Reunited With The Cowboy. Claire McEwen

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Reunited With The Cowboy - Claire McEwen


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      “I’m sorry that I haven’t been in touch,” she managed to say. “It’s so good to see you, Kathy.”

      When they pulled apart, Kathy’s cheeks were pink and she dabbed at her eyes. “Now, let’s not get all weepy. I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty. It’s just wonderful to see you again. It’s been so many years, I thought... Well, never mind what I thought. It’s just so good to have you home.”

      Maya tried to tamp down the emotion threatening to overwhelm her. “I know it’s been a long time. But Grandma was always so great about coming to see me, I guess I never needed to come home.” It was a weak lie and as soon as it was out, Maya felt like an idiot. “But I should have,” she corrected.

      “Well, you’ve always given me a reason to have an adventure somewhere new,” Grandma chimed in, kind as ever. “There are benefits to having a granddaughter who won’t settle down.” Grandma gave Maya a glass of white wine and a quick kiss on the cheek. “Still, it’s very nice to have you home.”

      “It sure is.” Annie Brooks rose from where she’d been sitting in the far corner, by Grandma’s piano. Annie had been a close friend of Grandma’s since the two of them were rivals for Miss Shelter Creek Rodeo, back when they were in high school. Now she came forward and clasped both of Maya’s hands in her own. “Welcome home, Maya.”

      “Thank you.” Annie’s face was the same, with just a bit more weathering from all the time she’d spent out on her ranch. Her hair had more salt than pepper, but her warm smile hadn’t changed. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

      Annie just nodded, gave Maya’s hands one more gentle squeeze and then retreated to her seat. She never was a person to express her emotions in words, but Maya had always loved her. Annie had taught her to ride horses, had encouraged her passion for the outdoors and had shown her an example of what a strong woman in a nontraditional job was like.

      Maya took a sip of wine to soothe the roughness in her throat and perched carefully on the arm of the sofa next to where Grandma sat down. Hopefully her dusty clothes wouldn’t do too much damage.

      “How was your hike, dear?” Kathy asked. “Did you see any lions?”

      “I saw one in a tree, early yesterday morning. I got a few photos, actually. And I set up several motion-sensitive cameras in the area. Hopefully I’ll catch some more photos with that.”

      “Did you hear that?” Mrs. Axel waved her wineglass at the group. “I was her teacher, you know. And third grade was a big year for studying animal habitats.”

      Maya laughed. Mrs. Axel had been a great teacher, taking the kids on nature walks and getting them excited about the local flora and fauna. “It’s true. Grandma, next time you get mad at me for chasing lions, you can blame Mrs. Axel.”

      “You should call me Priscilla.” Mrs. Axel poured herself a generous refill of wine. “And I’m proud to play a part in your pursuit of lions.”

      “Well, then when she gets bit by one, I’ll know who’s responsible.” Grandma sighed. “Maya, when you became a biology major, I assumed you’d end up teaching at a university or working in a laboratory. Not crashing through the woods, searching for predators.”

      “I like the woods,” Maya said. “And predators.”

      “You always loved animals,” Kathy added. “Remember, Lillian, when she found those abandoned baby raccoons? And tried to raise them herself?”

      “Oh my goodness, I’d forgotten.” Grandma giggled. “And remember when she tried to pet an otter in the Russian River?”

      “Oh no.” Maya put her free hand up in protest. “Do we have to talk about that?”

      “Oh yes, we do,” Kathy said with a chortle. “That thing chased you all the way up onto the beach.”

      “I never knew otters had fangs like that,” Grandma added. “I thought it was going to bite you for sure.”

      “So did I.” Maya was laughing too. She’d been so silly, thinking somehow that just because she loved animals, they’d all want to be her friends. Grandma had probably let her watch Snow White too many times.

      “You know, a lot of locals aren’t happy to have so many mountain lions around here these days.” The speaker was a severe-looking woman with dark hair pulled back in a tight bun and purple reading glasses perched on her nose. “I’m Eva Rosen, by the way. We haven’t met. I’m pretty new to Shelter Creek. I own an art gallery in town.”

      Maya smiled at her, grateful for the change of subject, even if it wasn’t a happy topic. “Good to meet you.” It was so strange to think of art galleries in Shelter Creek. But she’d noticed several as she drove through town.

      “Eva is right, you know,” Grandma cautioned. “You may run into some unhappy folks while you’re doing this study.”

      Ha. She’d already met the unhappiest of them all. And he’d made it clear he didn’t want to work with her. Didn’t want her around here at all. “Well, it’s not like people in this town are going to welcome me back with some kind of celebration anyway.” Maya flushed at the hint of bitterness that had seeped into her tone and the silence that instantly coated the room in awkward truth.

      “Now, Maya.” Mrs. Axel broke the silence to offer comfort. “The accident was a long time ago. Most people probably don’t even remember it. They definitely don’t blame you for it.”

      “They did though,” Kathy said sharply. “All that nasty stuff about apples not falling far from trees. I gave a few people a piece of my mind about that.”

      “I’ve heard about the accident,” Eva said. “But I’m sorry—I don’t understand about apples. Unless I’m prying...”

      Grandma sighed. “It’s okay, Eva. It’s not a secret. Everyone knew that my daughter and her husband, Maya’s parents, were drug addicts. That’s why Maya came to live with me in the first place. After the accident, a rumor got started that Maya had been drinking when her car hit that tree.”

      “Oh no.” Eva looked at Maya, her dark eyes bright with compassion. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

      “Tests were done that night,” Grandma went on. “We proved there was no alcohol in Maya’s blood. The coroner ruled the death accidental.”

      “But rumors have a way of sticking to things,” Annie said. “While boring old facts just blow on by.”

      “Plus Trisha and Julie, the two girls riding in Maya’s car, had been drinking that night,” Kathy added. “So maybe that’s how the rumor got going.”

      “I didn’t live in town back then,” Monique said. “But once in a while, gossip resurfaces in the salon. I don’t think most people believe that old rumor now, Maya.”

      “Good to know,” Maya mumbled into her wine. Talking about all this was knocking her off-balance. They were all so casual, just chatting mildly about the thing that had shattered her heart and her world.

      “Most?” Grandma looked at Monique sharply.

      “Well, I’ve heard a few things I don’t like,” Monique admitted. “And I’ve always addressed it when I hear it. Unfortunately there are people out there who prefer their own version of things to the actual truth.”

      Her words settled like mud in the bottom of Maya’s stomach. She’d known, of course, that there were people who’d happily resurrect old gossip. It was a small town and they needed something to talk about. But somehow the fact that Monique had witnessed it made it a lot more real.

      “We need to help you face those people, Maya,” Annie said briskly. “We need to support you. I wish I’d supported you better back then.”

      Eva lifted her glass toward Maya. “I’m happy to do whatever I can.”


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