Page 8 of Home to the Cowboy

“That’s great.” Rose smiled. “The food stalls will be at the courthouse gardens where we’ll have a picnic around lunch.”

“I hope you guys will join us,” Hayden added.

“Ooh and there’s a dance at the Graff on Saturday night,” Laura said looking at her sisters-in-law. “What about a shopping trip to Bozeman?”

“I’m in,” Ellie said as she got up. “Hopefully we can persuade June to join us. And I hope she’ll come to our book club meetings while she’s here.” Hugging Becket around his neck, she kissed him. “Do you need anything from town?”

“So Dylan, Carson, what do you say?” Willow asked. “Will you join us? That is, of course, if you don’t already have hot dates.”

“You can leave Daisy with our dogs on Saturday night if you want to,” Cooper said.

Shrugging, Dylan got up. “Thanks, maybe.”

Carson was also already on his way out and with a nod, Dylan followed his brother outside.

June. The word conjured up images of ripe fruit, long, warm days, and cool mountain lakes. Suits her.

*

Whether it had been the strange bed or the handsome stranger she’d met the night before, June didn’t know, but her overactive mind kept her awake all night long.

She’d finally woken up around ten and gone for a run. After a shower, she was feeling more like a human being. Someone, probably Ellie, had filled the fridge with enough food to last her a whole month. It was a relief not to have to go shopping for food. She wouldn’t even know where to go anyway.

Late morning, she was in the kitchen having coffee when the sound of a vehicle pulling up penetrated her thoughts.

Heart racing, she looked out of the kitchen window. But it wasn’t Dylan’s truck as she’d thought for a moment. She recognized the five women who got out of the car immediately. Ellie and her sisters-in-law, if she wasn’t mistaken. The older woman was Becket’s mom.

Before they could knock, she was opening the door. It was lovely to see familiar faces. “I’m so glad to see you!” she called out.

Before she knew what was happening, she was enveloped in a group hug. For a brief moment, soft, feminine arms held her close in a shelter of flowery scents and laughter. Something warm opened up inside of her. She’d never been much of a hugger, but this group of women embraced her so warmly, so easily, she felt like crying.

“Hello!” Ellie smiled looking at her. “Mmmm, did you also struggle to fall sleep last night?”

June nodded. “Probably the strange bed.”

“Or maybe the handsome cowboy who gave you a lift into town?” Willow chuckled.

June’s eyes widened. “How …?”

Everyone laughed.

“Let me put you in the picture before you hear all the other wild versions out there.” Willow grinned. “Dylan, the cowboy you met last night and his brother Carson are our cousins. Apparently, our dad and their dad had a big fight ages ago and the ranch was split up. Growing up, we never visited them, but of course, we saw each other in school and in town. Now that the older generation have mostly passed away, Hayden had the idea to consolidate the two ranches again. Both Dylan and Carson liked the idea and have since moved to The Weston Ranch. They’re experts on seedstock production and know everything there is to know about breeding.”

“Initially they both stayed in Walker’s house,” Laura added, “but Carson recently moved into the house he built for himself. They both have their meals with us. Isabella’s cooking, as you will discover, is to die for. Carson’s also a great photographer, by the way. You should look at what he does.”

June struggled to process everything she was hearing. So Dylan was a Weston? No wonder his smile looked familiar.

Becket’s mother took June’s arm. “Let’s make tea, and I’ll tell you all about our family. If you’re going to be staying here for a while, you’re going to hear about the weird Westons, mark my words.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Weston.”

Momma Weston was already moving toward the kitchen. “Arlene, please.”

Minutes later they were all settled around the kitchen table, each with a cup of tea Ellie had made.

“You see, June”—Willow grinned—“some of us Westons have inherited more than just money from our Irish grandmother.”

“My mother was fey, you see,” Arlene said as if she was talking about something completely ordinary. “She knew when something was wrong and read our minds. Everything, and I mean everything we were thinking, she would know about. You can imagine how we hated that. I haven’t inherited it but Willow, like her grandma, can sense when something is wrong.”