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Faye laughed again. “You’ll like this one. Every time you start to retreat back into your shell or shy away from doing something, I want you to ask yourself, ‘What would Sassy do?’”
What would Sassy do?
She thought back to the scene she’d written that morning where Sassy Scott strode confidently up to the dark-haired, steely-blue-eyed hero, Duke Ramsey, and gave him a piece of her mind.
Sassy wasn’t intimidated by anyone. Not even the handsome Duke, whose muscled forearms stretched the sleeves of his faded blue T-shirt as he tipped the front of his black Stetson toward the feisty heroine. Duke was the epitome of every hot cowboy Kaylee could put together in her mind: tall, sandy brown hair worn just a little too long, strong jaw covered in just a shadow of whiskers, with a cowboy boot saunter and a flirty grin that could charm even the hardest of hearts.
But Sassy was immune to his charms, at least for the first third of the book. Kaylee often tried to imagine herself as the confident redheaded barrel-racer, envisioning herself doing the courageous acts she wrote for Sassy.
She groaned. “You know I’d love to be as brave and daring as Sassy. Too bad I’m afraid of horses and haven’t done a courageous act since middle school when I decided to get bangs.”
“You can do this,” Faye told her, dismissing her concerns. “The town is right ahead of you—you’re almost there. I believe in you. And just remember—whenever you start having doubts or feeling like you can’t do this, I want you to channel your inner Sassy and do what she would do.”
Kaylee took a deep breath and pushed her shoulders back.What would Sassy do?She sure wouldn’t be sitting in her car pulled over on the side of the road trying not to cry over a spilled coffee or a new opportunity on a ranch. “Okay,” she said, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice. “I’ll do it.”
“Thatta girl. Now I want you to lift your chin up and get back on the road. Oh, and I was going to tell you to stop at the grocery store on your way through town and grab yourself a snack and a twelve-pack of Diet Coke. I know how you love that stuff, and I doubt there’ll be any on the ranch.”
“Thanks, Faye.” Kaylee took a deep breath and pulled back onto the highway. Other than the semi, not a single car had driven by her while she’s been pulled over. She slowed as she got to the grain elevator, and sure enough, therewasa turnoff. And Faye was right. The road led her down into a valley where a beautiful little town was nestled against the river.
Bartlett, Montana appeared to be five blocks wide and about fifteen blocks long. Kaylee could see a park in the middle of town and the steeples of at least three churches. The sun sparkled off the river as she drove down the main street marveling at the quaint storefronts, barrels of bright flowers spilling over their edges, and streetlights fashioned to resemble old-fashioned gas lamps. American flags waved proudly from their perches in front of the shops, and window fronts gleamed as they showed off their displays. It was as if Kaylee had driven into a charming slice of Americana. She just hoped the reality lived up to the illusion.
She found the grocery store and pulled into a spot, leaving the windows rolled down for Gladys. “I’ll just be a minute,” she told the corgi.
The heels of her fancy boots clacked against the tile floor as she headed to the soda aisle and grabbed a twelve-pack of Diet Coke. In the bakery section, she paused, thinking it might be good to show up with a dessert in hand. She peered over the array of glossy fruit pies and chocolate cakes.Which one? She chewed her lip, the weight of the decision bearing down on her shoulders.
Come on. This isn’t rocket science. Just pick a dang cake.
A gorgeous carrot cake with swirls of whipped cream cheese frosting was sitting closest to her. It was already packaged in a box. Perfect. She tucked the soda carton under her arm, then grabbed the box and took it with her to the register.
After she set her items on the conveyor belt, she tossed a package of peanut butter cups down with them. She told herself the cake and some chocolate was enough, but her traitorous hand grabbed a Snickers and a bag of Cheetos and added them to the pile.
The cashier was a woman about her own age, but with sleek dark hair pulled up into a perfect ponytail. As she rang up the purchases, she said, “You must be the author.”
Kaylee looked down at herself, as if her profession were showing like the hem of an untucked shirt. “How can you tell?”
The woman gestured to Kaylee’s car. “Rental car with out-of-state plates. We don’t get a lot of visitors around here. Especially famous ones.”
Kaylee ducked her head. “I’m hardly famous.”
“Sure you are. We carry your books in the store, and I’ve read every one. I love them. The whole town knows you’re coming.” She pointed to her name tag. “I’m Marnie, by the way. You just get here?”
Kaylee nodded. “Just pulled in. Nice to meet you. I’m Kaylee.”
“I know.” The cashier laughed, but Kaylee wasn’t sure if it was with her or at her. “You heading out to Dusty Acres now?”
She nodded again, her cheeks warming. This was just the kind of thing she’d been worried about—small talk with strangers. How much information was too much, and how much was not enough? She often used small town gossip as a plot device in her books, but she had no idea how often it really happened, if at all.
Marnie paused to holler toward the back of the store. “Hey Caleb, bring me a box of Lucky Charms, would you?” She turned back to Kaylee. “Luke’s out of cereal. And Lucky Charms are his favorite.”
“Oh, okay. Good to know.”
Before she could think of anything else to say, a teenage stock boy ran out from one of the aisles and dropped a box of cereal on the conveyor belt. “Here you go, ma’am.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled as Marnie ran the box across the scanner and dropped it into her bag. She passed the cashier her debit card, her ears warm as she tried not to think about how the pretty cashier knew not only that her new host was out of breakfast cereal, but also what kind was his favorite.
“See you around,” Marnie said as she passed her back the card with her receipt. “Tell Luke I said hey.”
She stuttered another “thank you” as she grabbed the bags and the cake box and hurried out of the store.
