Page 59 of Home to the Cowboy

Normally, he loved being out on his horse, working out under the clear skies, but lately his mind wasn’t on his work. To make matters worse, all Willow could talk about during dinner were the illustrations she was going to do for June’s book.

Of course, he wanted to hear about June, and of course he was happy Willow was excited, but damn it, it was hard constantly hearing June’s name when he was struggling to stop thinking about her.

Kicking the front door closed behind him he opened his phone. His heart leaped. It was a text from June.

“Willow is doing the illustrations for Pepper’s story! ”

Sighing, he sat down on the couch. Daisy sensing his strange mood, joined him and put her head on his leg.

“She’s happy. Of course I’m glad for her, but when will I stop missing her?”

Whining, Daisy moved closer.

“I know. Probably never, right?” He texted back.

“We’ve heard. Willow is very excited.”

Three dots appeared, faded. Nothing. After long minutes, his phone bleeped again.

“Tell Daisy I miss everyone in the house.”

Grinning he texted back.

“Daisy says to tell you everyone in this house misses you too.”

He stared at the small screen, willing the three dots to appear, but there was nothing. Feeling hollow and down, he put on his television. Fact was, he wasn’t going to forget about June any time soon, he might as well watch a few more of her rom-com recommendations.

Chapter Nineteen

End of June

Monday afternoon, a month later, June was in her office trying to focus on the Zoom meeting she was having with Carson Weston.

It had been a strange month. Dylan and she had texted daily, talking about their work and life in general. They’d discussed movies and music and their favorite books. She’d discovered the cowboy loved thrillers and crime stories, genres she steered clear of, but what they had in common was that he also enjoyed the classics.

To Kill a Mockingbird, was one of his favorite books. Apparently, he had a few editions of it. He’d dutifully watched some of the rom-coms she’d recommended, and she’d steeled herself to watch some of his film suggestions. He’d sent her a link to the song they’d heard at the picnic and danced to at the ball in The Graff. She’d cried as she listened to it, remembering every moment she’d spent in Dylan’s arms.

She’d found herself checking her phone every so often during the day to make sure she didn’t miss any of his texts. Over the last week, though, she hadn’t heard from him at all.

“… think it can work?” Carson’s words finally registered.

“Yes,” she nodded. “I really love the idea of using your photographs capturing the different seasons,” she said.

“Great, I was hoping you’d say that.”

For another few moments she explained the rest of the process until the book would be released.

“So whenever you’re ready, you can send me what you have, I can’t wait to work on your book.”

“Will do. How does it feel being back in Seattle?”

“Fine, thanks. I’m very excited about my children’s story and Willow’s illustrations. I’m really looking forward to having a copy of the book in my hand.”

“And how are you?” Carson asked, a slight smile on his face.

“Still missing Marietta, but I’m okay. How is everyone?”

He grinned. “Everyone is fine, except for Dylan.”