Reunited With The Cowboy. Claire McEwen

Jace landed a punch to his shoulder. “Ouch. I thought you were a pacifist now.”

      “Mostly. But as your friend, it’s still my duty to hit you when you’re being an idiot.”

      “Then I guess you’ve got yourself a new punching bag.”

      “You’ve got to grow up. I’m serious.”

      “I’m grown. I promise.” Caleb followed Jace back into the bar, knowing his friend was right. Adam was right. He had to stop fighting. He had to stop drinking so much. But if he did, what would he have left?

      Nothing but troubles he didn’t know how to solve and memories he didn’t want to face.

       CHAPTER THREE

      MAYA HEAVED HER backpack through Grandma’s front door, inhaling the scent of the lavender sachets Grandma put in every drawer. It was the same smell Maya had noticed when she’d first come to live here as a scared, sad five-year-old. Peace. Comfort. Safety.

      Funny how Maya hadn’t noticed the lavender when she’d stopped by briefly on Monday. She’d been too busy trying to figure out how to get away from town again, as fast as possible.

      She unlaced her dusty hiking boots and set them back outside on the porch before stepping inside and closing the front door behind her. “Grandma, are you here? I’m home!”

      “In the living room!” Grandma Lillian’s voice was light with laughter, and suddenly the meaning of all the cars parked in front of the house sank in. It was Wednesday evening. Grandma’s book club was here. “Come on in and say hello to The Book Biddies,” Grandma called.

      Glancing down at her dusty clothes and scraped-up legs, Maya winced. She needed a shower desperately after spending two nights and days on the trail. “I’m really dirty!” she called back.

      “Ooh most people don’t admit that outright,” came a sardonic voice Maya didn’t recognize.

      A roomful of giggles followed the quip. They must have busted out the drinks already. So many of Grandma’s stories about The Book Biddies involved alcohol, Maya teased her that they should change their name to The Booze Biddies.

      “I’m going to shower first!” She made it to the first landing on the stairs before Grandma appeared at the bottom, hands fisted on her hips.

      “Maya Burton, are you hiding from a bunch of old ladies?”

      “No.” Her face heated. “But I’ve been camping for two nights. I need to get cleaned up.”

      “Come say a quick hello. Everyone is so excited to see you. It’s been thirteen years.”

      “Exactly. So can’t we wait twenty minutes more? I look terrible.”

      “No one cares how you look. And we’re going to get into our book talk soon. Just come?”

      Maya’s feet were reluctant weights as she stomped back down the stairs. “I’m probably covered in poison oak and ticks.”

      “Then a few of my friends shouldn’t scare you.” Grandma folded her arms across her pink-flowered bosom and set her lips in the stubborn line Maya recognized as the ancestor to hers. “I know you’re anxious about being home again. But my book club is the perfect place to dip your toes in the water.”

      “I’m not ready to dip my toes anywhere but the shower.”

      “Don’t be silly,” Grandma said and turned around with the confidence that Maya would follow.

      Which she did. This was Grandma asking, so she’d do what would make her happy. As she followed her grandmother down the hall, Maya noticed how light on her feet the older woman was. Grandma wore hip fake-leather leggings today, a top covered in pink flowers and sparkly flat shoes. She moved like a much younger woman. Why had she stopped traveling? Why hadn’t she wanted to come see Maya anymore?

      Maya had assumed it was because her grandmother was slowing down physically. But she sure didn’t seem slow. She was practically skipping. And judging from the laughter in the next room, Grandma wasn’t lacking in friends. She didn’t seem lonely or depressed.

      Just before they reached the living room, Maya paused, heart thumping against her ribs, the air suddenly thin. It was one thing accidentally running into Caleb; it was another to deliberately meet a bunch of people who all knew her past. Maya had never had to do it before. Leaving town so soon after the accident had given her a fresh start where no one knew her story. No one knew that her bad driving had killed her boyfriend’s sister, the town’s sweetheart, Julie Dunne.

      Of course Maya knew. Shame and regret ate at the edges of even her best days, and devoured her entirely on others. But she’d never had to be around anyone, except Grandma Lillian, who also knew.

      Her heart kicked up another notch, and Maya inhaled a shaky breath, trying to calm down.

      Grandma must have heard, because she paused, her face set and stern. “Chin up,” she said softly. “You can do this. It’s time to stop hiding.”

      Maya wasn’t sure about that last sentence. Hiding had served her pretty well for over a decade.

      But her grandmother had been so devoted over the years, traveling to see Maya wherever she was. The very least Maya could do was meet her book club friends.

      Grandma took Maya by the hand. Wrapped in her soft grip, Maya trailed into the living room behind her, feeling like the lost kid she’d been when Grandma had taken her out of foster care and given her a home.

      Once inside the doorway, Grandma released her hand and Maya stepped forward on her own power. She was instantly met with a chorus of “There she is!” and one “Oh my goodness, what happened to you?”

      Maybe she should have showered first.

      Heart thrumming an uncomfortable bass in her chest, Maya broke through the wall of exclamations. “I’ve been out hiking the past couple of days.” She looked around the room, recognizing most of the women sitting on Lillian’s comfortable sofas but feeling suddenly shy about greeting them. “Hello.”

      Grandma gave Maya’s shoulder a quick, bracing squeeze. “Maya was out tracking mountain lions.”

      “Why in the world would you want to do that?” A woman in a red sweaterdress, her platinum hair coiled in a perfectly styled chignon, raised her penciled eyebrows.

      Grandma gestured in the elegant woman’s direction. “This is Monique Lawrence. She owns Monique’s Miracles. It’s a wonderful salon.”

      Not that Maya spent any time at salons. But Grandma was forever hopeful.

      “Nice to meet you, Monique,” Maya said.

      Monique gave her a beautifully manicured wave. “So nice to finally meet you.”

      “Maya!” Mrs. Axel, Maya’s former teacher, heaved herself out of Grandma’s coziest armchair. “How wonderful to see you!”

      Maya went to Mrs. Axel and hugged her gingerly, trying to keep her dusty clothes away from the other woman’s flowered cardigan sweater. Mrs. Axel had always been small, but she felt frail now, and that one change drove home all the other changes Maya must have missed while avoiding Shelter Creek. Changes that Grandma had experienced, without her, because Maya had been too scared to face her past. She cleared the lump of guilt in her throat. “It’s great to see you too.”

      Mrs. Axel held her at arm’s length, her pale blue eyes swimming with tears. “Look at you, all grown-up.”

      “Grown-up and absolutely beautiful!” The exclamation came from Kathy Wallace, Grandma’s next-door neighbor, who’d babysat Maya and been on hand for every one of life’s occasions, from dance recitals to holiday meals. “It’s amazing to see you again,” Kathy said, reaching out her arms. “The