Page 15 of A Cowboy to Call Her Own

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Outside the Galloping Fork, Kelley checked for traffic as if she were back in New York, then crossed the empty street at a pace more consistent with the townsfolks’ preference to leave the racing around for the horses. She walked the one block to the corner of Hitch Post Avenue and Derby Hollow Road where the Lucky Lane Tavern had sat for almost a century.

Kelley stepped inside, waved to the hostess and scanned the bar area. She spotted Pauline Riggins propped on a bar stool right smack in the middle of the long, wide old-fashioned bar. Pauline was a former professional dancer on Broadway and now managed several dance studios closer to Louisville. She was a self-proclaimed designer cowgirl with the fashion sense to back up her claims and always seemed the most comfortable when she was center stage. At just shy of her fiftieth birthday, Pauline was age defying with an air of mystery about her.

Pauline caught sight of Kelley and waved her over, then patted the empty bar stool beside her. “I’ve got your seat saved.”

Kelley slid onto the stool and twisted to face her enigmatic boss.

“I was in the mood for light and fruity.” Pauline lifted a tropical cocktail and grinned. “If only we were meeting at the beach instead. What can I get you?”

“I’m good. Thanks,” Kelley replied. “I need to get back to the diner.”

“Well, if you change your mind, my tab is open,” Pauline offered then checked her rose gold-colored watch and mused, “If I’m not mistaken, your shift is over.”

That it was. Kelley said, “I told Hayes I would be back.”

“You’re a good one, Kelley Munroe,” Pauline said and sighed, then lifted her cocktail in a toast. “Mama T knew it and so do I.”

Was this that opening Hayes challenged Kelley to look for? Kelley was not sure this was the swing she even wanted to take. The melancholy in Pauline’s usually vibrant brown eyes caught her notice. Kelley left her purse and the notebook inside untouched then asked, “Are you okay, Pauline?”

“I’m fine.” Pauline gave a quick shimmy on the stool as if shaking off her mood, then focused on Kelley again. “We should probably get straight to the reason I asked you to meet me.”

Kelley searched Pauline’s face, yet her pretty features gave nothing away.

“Mama T raised me to stretch my wings beyond Gold Finch. She’d tell me:You go on and soar, Pauline. Don’t ever come down unless you want to.” Pauline stretched her arms out to either side and pulsed them in a rather elegant slow wave as if she was the fairy queen in the ballet. “Mama did the same with you, too. You were always more like a granddaughter to her.”

Kelley smiled. She attended culinary school thanks to the encouragement from Pauline’s mom, Trudy, and Kelley’s grandpa. Kelley would always be grateful Trudy took a chance on her when she was just a shy, quiet teenager whose imagination soared in the pages of books and in the kitchen.

“You know what I’ve realized recently?” Pauline lowered her arms then plucked the maraschino cherry off the paper umbrella in her drink. Her gaze sparkled once again. “I’ve realized that mamas are always right.”

In Kelley’s case, it was Grandpa who was always right. Kelley’s mom always wanted Kelley to follow in her librarian footsteps. It was years in the making, however, Kelley finally won her mom over with her literary-themed desserts she provided for her mother’s weekly book club meetings.

“I’ve realized something else, too.” Pauline leaned forward, clasped Kelley’s arm then said, “We don’t belong here.”

Not Kelley. She intended to move on. But Pauline… Kelley asked, “What about the diner?”

“Oh, I’m selling it.” Pauline plopped the cherry into her mouth and smiled as if she hadn’t just tossed a conversational jaw-dropper between them.

“What about preserving everything your mother built here?” Kelley asked around the sudden buzz in her head.

“I’m what my mother built.” Pauline pressed her palm over her heart and tipped her chin toward Kelley. “I don’t need the diner to know where I came from and where I belong.”

Okay. But sell the diner?Kelley curved her fingers around the glass apothecary jar, shook the snack mix inside onto her palm and worked to collect her reeling thoughts. Finally, she asked, “Do you have a buyer in mind?”Not me, of course. Or maybe me.No. Never mind.Would that be a step forward or not?

Purchasing the diner made Kelley’s temporary move home more permanent. Definitely not what she wanted, right? Surprised. That was all Kelley was. And she knew all too well the folly of impulse responses when in a startled state.

Marry me, Kelley, and our dreams will have to come true.If only Kelley hadn’t gotten swept up in that moment. If only she had pressed Pause and gotten her head and her heart aligned.

The diner was being sold. An end of an era for certain. But change wasn’t always welcome or easy, and most of the time it didn’t ask for an opinion or feedback. Kelley tossed the snack mix into her mouth and crunched down on a spiced nut.

“There is no buyer as of yet, but I’m sure my Realtor will find someone meant to thrive in a quaint small-town diner.” Pauline’s gaze fixed on Kelley, her mouth twisted to the side. “That’s not you, by the way, if that is what you’re thinking.”

Kelley coughed and pushed the apothecary jar away.

Pauline patted Kelley’s knee and said, “Darling, you need to get to baking your return into your ex’s heart and then you can get your beautiful life in New York back. Everyone knows that’s where you belong anyway.” Confidence was there in Pauline’s tone and expression. “It’s time for you and me to stop hiding out here.”

Talk about stuff to unpack. Where to begin? Kelley decided to start with the most obvious misconception. She cleared her throat and said mildly, “You know I’m a trained chef. I graduated from culinary school.”