Page 7 of A Cowboy to Call Her Own

“He oughtta be.” Lynette waggled her eyebrows at Kelley. “You two got what they called chemistry back in my day. It’s not only good for the dance floor, either.”

Chemistry wasn’t sustainable for more than a night out on the town or perhaps through the honeymoon phase. Kelley learned that much with her ex-husband, and they had shared a lot more than chemistry. Kelley held on to her grin and greeted Lenny Culver with a quick apology for the delayed opening.

“As long as the coffee is piping hot, there is nothing to apologize for.” Chuckling, Len headed for his usual seat at the end of the counter and asked, “Are you going to tell us who your cowboy suitor is, Kelley? Or are you going to make us guess?”

“Don’t tell us,” Lynette said and plopped onto the stool between Len and her sister. Her gaze gleamed. “We could use a good mystery to spice things up around here.”

That earned a hum of agreement from both Beatrice and Len.

Kelley kept silent. The mystery wouldn’t last much past their first cups of coffee. Someone was bound to recognize Asher Blackwell when he walked outside to his car. The cowboy was hard to miss and even harder to mistake. Asher might have been out of sight for the past eight years but he was far from out of mind for the locals. It seemed everyone had a take on what drove Asher out of town for good all those years ago. Those stories had picked up steam again after the death of Walter Blackwell when none of the Blackwell sons returned.

But now Asher Blackwell was home. And the town was sure to be abuzz all over again.

Coffee and tea mugs filled and the dining area put back to rights, Kelley stepped through the swinging doors and stopped short of stepping back into her cowboy’s arms. Whether to warn him or protect him, she wasn’t quite sure. She swallowed and said, “There’s room at the counter for you.”

“My uncle is expecting me for breakfast at the house. Frannie got me the caffeine boost I stopped in for.” Asher lifted a to-go cup toward her and added, “But I appreciate the coffee and dance.”

“Anytime.” She was surprised to realize she meant it.

Asher arched an eyebrow.

She lifted one shoulder and worked to keep her expression and words casual. “What can I say? It was not the worst way to start my morning.” There was only one way it could have been better. A good-morning kiss with a cowboy.Her cowboy.

“Until next time, then,” he said, his grin one-sided. At the exit, he glanced back at her and added, “Save a space on your dance card for me, Ms. Kelley Munroe.”

There would have been a time she would have saved her entire dance card for a cowboy like him.

Except Asher Blackwell was a city cowboy now.

And Kelley left those behind when she signed her divorce papers, headed back home and hung up her heart for good.

CHAPTER TWO

Inside his rental SUV, Asher took a sip of his coffee and sighed. Proper temperature, full-bodied yet balanced, not too bitter or too sweet. It was official. The Galloping Fork Diner still served the best cup of coffee from here to the east coast. It was good to know some things had not changed in Gold Finch after all.

As for things that were better than Asher remembered, well, the sunshine in a certain cowgirl’s laugh was a rather refreshing surprise. Not that Asher could linger, even if he wanted to. He wasn’t home to make new memories, especially not with the former wallflower turned colorfully carefree chef, Kelley Munroe. Besides, no amount of sunshine could possibly blaze through his dark cloud of cynicism.

A few miles outside downtown, Asher drove by a set of ornate glossy steel gates with a striking polished steel sign overhead that read Blackwell Stables. Towering wide, square twin stone columns added to the grandeur of the stable’s main entrance along with the sturdy triple post fence bordering the property that at last count totaled more than two thousand acres. Top-of-the-line stables, state-of-the-art indoor and outdoor practice tracks and well-tended pastures were not only the core of the impressive horse farm. They were also the first things visitors saw when they arrived.

You get one first impression, boys. Make a statement and no one will doubt you ever.

Ironic that Asher always wondered what exactly he could have done differently at his own birth. He was the second-born twin, and his birth order had seemed to make the wrong sort of statement with his father. When it came to his dad, one thing was clear to Asher. Walter Blackwell always doubted Asher.Mark my words, son. You are nothing without the Blackwell name. You’ll realize that soon enough.

Asher stepped on the gas and avoided that potential pothole. For the past eight years, Asher and his dad shared nothing more than silence. He had no intention of arguing with his father’s ghost now. Instead, he opened the call log on his phone and pressed the first name on the list.

His boss answered before the second ring and as was Pierce Rylan’s way, Pierce skipped straight to the point and said, “If you’re calling because you are locked out of the company network, I already know. I told the IT Department to do it.”

“You can’t do that.” Asher frowned at the cell phone. “I’ve got clients and deals in the pipeline. You can’t just cut me out completely.”

“It’s not permanent so don’t be getting any ideas in your head,” his boss replied then added softly, “This is for your own good.”

Asher doubted that very much. Work was what Asher did best. Where he felt his best. “How long are you blocking me?”

“Seven days,” Pierce said, his words curt. “Business days.”

That was the rest of the week and all of the following one, too. Asher flexed his fingers around the steering wheel and turned onto a private road a few miles past the stable’s main gates. He drove through the nondescript wrought iron gates and followed the curvy one-lane road.

“Now go vacation like my wife tells me to do.” Amusement smoothed the edge from Pierce’s words. “Reconnect with nature or some such thing. You’ll be better for it.”