Remember Me, Cowboy. C.J. Carmichael

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      Wasn’t it her luck that just as things were starting to work out for her careerwise, something would happen to set her back?

      Not for the first time, she wished Winnie was here with her, which was silly, because if Winnie were able to stay in Coffee Creek and work at the café, then Laurel would be back in the city living in her cute, if miniscule apartment, working her butt off at her new job.

      But even if she’d left for New York the day after the wedding, as originally scheduled, she’d still be pregnant.

      Oh, Lord, she just had to talk to Winnie.

      Once she was satisfied that the café was clean and ready for the next day, Laurel went down the hall. To the left was the customer restroom. To the right, a door that led to a staircase and the second floor of the building.

      She was barely in the door of the one-bedroom apartment when the phone started ringing.

      Laurel kicked off her sandals—oh, that felt good!—then dashed for the receiver, hoping it would be Winnie. “Hello?”

      “Hey! How are you doing?”

      Her friend sounded stronger. More like herself. “I’m fine. How about you?”

      “I had a good day today. Really. Got out of bed. Showered.”

      Her tone was self-deprecating, but Laurel understood the effort that had been required. “That’s good, Winnie.”

      “I gave myself a talking-to last night. Decided this baby was going to be a mental case if I didn’t get a grip on myself.”

      “No one can blame you for grieving. It’s only natural.”

      “It’s not like I’m forgetting about Brock. That’s not even possible. But I have to start facing a future that doesn’t include him. Mom got me started on a knitting project. That probably sounds lame. It’s really helping, though.”

      “Are you kidding? Knitting is cool.” Laurel went to the sofa and settled in for a long chat.

      “So how are things going at the Cinnamon Stick?”

      “Pretty good.” Laurel gave her the cash register totals for the past week, then filled her in on some of the day’s highlights, omitting, for the moment, the visit from Corb and Jackson.

      “That sounds great. I can’t thank you enough for all you’re doing for me.”

      “You’d do the same for me. You know you would.”

      “But you can’t keep putting your life on hold. You have to book your plane ticket home. Tonight. I’m serious.”

      “And what about the Cinnamon Stick?”

      Winnie sighed. “We’ll just have to close it until after the baby is born. My doctor is saying work is out of the question for me. Maybe if I had a desk job. But I can’t be on my feet all day long. It would be too much of a strain.”

      “I’ll vouch for that.”

      “Oh, Laurel. It’s exhausting you, isn’t it?”

      Yes. But for reasons she wasn’t quite ready to explain. Not until she knew more about Winnie’s plans.

      “Are you going to stay with your parents until the baby is born?”

      “It’s looking that way.”

      “Well then, maybe you should rethink telling the Lamberts about the baby in person. Jackson and Corb were in town today and I felt awkward when they asked about you. They should be told. I mean, this kid is going to be their nephew.”

      “Yes. And Olive’s grandchild. Believe me, I know.” Winnie sucked in a long breath. “And I would tell them if I hadn’t had such an awful relationship with Olive.”

      She’d complained about Olive before. And while Laurel agreed that Olive wasn’t the warmest person, she did think Winnie was exaggerating.

      “How can anyone not like you? I mean, you’re so easygoing, without any strong opinions on anything.”

      “Exactly. I’m perfect, but Olive doesn’t appreciate that.”

      They both laughed. Then Winnie continued, “According to Brock, my first faux pas was serving Maddie Turner at the café.”

      “Maddie’s one of your best customers. Why wouldn’t you serve her?”

      “Because.” She paused dramatically. “Maddie Turner and Olive Lambert are sisters.”

      Mentally Laurel compared the two women. “Impossible.” Olive was fine-boned and elegant, while Maddie was sturdy and down-to-earth.

      “Yes. Estranged sisters. I guess it’s an unspoken rule in the Lambert family that no one is to talk to Maddie or even acknowledge the fact that she exists.”

      “How bizarre. What happened to cause the rift? Did Brock ever tell you?”

      “He didn’t even know. It’s like some big family secret.”

      “And is that the whole reason Olive Lambert doesn’t like you? Because you dared to serve coffee and baked goods to her sister?”

      Winnie laughed. “Not hardly. Olive had someone else in mind for Brock. A daughter of one of her bigwig ranching buddies. It made her crazy that he picked me instead.”

      Laurel never knew whether to believe Winnie when she talked about Olive this way. “Is it really possible, in this day and age, that a mother would think she had the right to arrange a marriage for her son?”

      “It sounds crazy. Yes. But you have to see her in action. She never raises her voice or argues—she has this passive-aggressive way of getting her way. Her

      children—in particular, her sons—can’t seem to jump high enough trying to please her.”

      Laurel didn’t doubt that Winnie believed what she was saying, but at the same time she suspected that Winnie’s point of view was biased. Because Winnie also had a very strong personality. And it was possible that they had suffered from a clash of personalities.

      But how unfortunate that they hadn’t been able to move past their differences after Brock’s death. The two women who had loved him most should have been able to share their grief.

      “Have you considered selling the Cinnamon Stick and moving closer to your parents permanently?”

      “I have,” Winnie admitted. “Mom and Dad have been pushing me to do just that. But this morning I called the real estate agent who sold me the property. Unfortunately, the market has softened in the past year. Even if I was lucky enough to sell the place, I’d never get back what I put into it.”

      Laurel took a moment to absorb this. “So you’re stuck here?”

      “Pretty much.”

      “Then you’ve got to make peace with СКАЧАТЬ