Page 11 of Awaiting the Storm (Wildhaven #1)

T he pharmacy smells of floor wax and antiseptic spray.

I stand across from an older gentleman, who is arguing with an employee about the price difference between name-brand joint cream and the generic version.

I patiently wait, browsing the selection of shaving supplies, when I hear a familiar voice coming from one aisle over.

“No, if she tries to wear those old boots, we’re not letting her step foot in The Soused Cow. Shelby and I are on a mission to get her drunk and find her a sexy cowboy to spin her around that dance floor.”

I glance over, and sure enough, there’s Charli Storm, all confidence and sass in a faded ball cap and fitted jeans, leaning against the pharmacy counter. She’s talking to one of the girls who works here—Elise, I think—who’s trying hard not to burst into laughter.

Charli pulls a sheet of paper out of her pocket and waves it. “Also picking up blood pressure meds. And these.” She sets a jumbo box of condoms on the counter.

Elise snorts, covering her mouth. “Charli!”

“What? Better to have them and not need them than need them and not have them, right?”

Elise turns bright red, and I nearly choke on the breath I’m holding.

The old man continues to gripe about his ointment, and I give up on getting any help.

I grab the sandalwood shave soap, a shave brush, a bowl, and a set of five stainless razor blades, and I jump in line directly behind Charli.

I glance at her items and can’t stop the laugh that slips out.

“That’s quite the combination,” I say.

Charli turns around and gives me a slow once-over. “Well, look what the wind blew in. Caison Galloway. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Just purchasing some supplies,” I say, lifting the items in my hand. “ I should probably grab some protection too—better to have them and not need them and all.”

She grins wide. “Always be prepared. Didn’t they teach you that in college?” she asks. “Although something tells me you probably need them.”

I shake my head, chuckling. “So, what’s this about The Soused Cow?”

“Oh, eavesdropping, are we, Mr. Galloway?” she says. “It’s a big night. Wildhaven Junction is playing, drinks are flowing, and Matty is wearing lipstick. Shelby and I managed to get her to agree to come out of her barn-shaped cave for the night.”

I try not to let my eyebrows lift, but they do. “Matty’s going?”

Charli’s eyes narrow a little. She’s not stupid; she picks up on the interest in my voice right away. “Why? You planning on being there?”

“I might be,” I say casually, though I know damn well I will be now.

Charli crosses her arms, box of condoms tucked against her side like it’s a six-pack. “You into country music, Galloway? Or something else?”

“I can two-step with the best of them,” I assure her.

“Oh, I bet you can.” She tilts her head and studies me for a long moment. “You interested in my sister?”

I hold her gaze. “She’s … something.”

Charli snorts. “She’s something all right. Sleep-deprived and allergic to fun.”

“Fun’s good for the soul,” I muse.

“Tell her that. Or better yet, show her. Lord knows she could use it,” she challenges.

Elise, behind the counter, is pretending not to listen to our conversation, but her eyes are huge, bouncing between the two of us like she’s watching a ping-pong match.

“I’ll think about showing up,” I say.

Charli gives me a slow smile. “Well, if you do, first round’s on me. And don’t worry about protection.” She holds up the box and winks. “I got you covered, cowboy.”

Elise breaks, bursting into laughter and nearly dropping her scanner.

I rub the back of my neck, grinning despite the heat climbing up my neck. “You always this subtle, Charli?”

“Subtle’s overrated. I prefer a straight shooter.”

She pays for her items and gives me a wink as she heads for the door .

“See you tonight, Elise. You too, Galloway.”

I watch her go, and I swear she walks a little slower just to make sure I’m still looking. The door closes behind her, and Elise is still giggling when I step forward.

“You’re in for it now,” she says, shaking her head.

I just smile and set my purchases on the counter. “God help me, I think I might be.”

The sun’s dropping behind the Tetons as I pull into Ironhorse. Creating a crown of brilliant colors that spill across the pastures and hills. It’s the kind of view that makes people fall in love with Wyoming. The kind of view that makes it hard to remember why anyone would ever want to leave.

I park next to the barn, kill the engine, and climb out, stretching my back and rolling my shoulders.

Lunch with Albert is still playing through my head like a scene I’m not done editing.

The man was gracious. Wary but willing to hear me out.

And offering his support. Which was more than I could have hoped for.

He obviously loves his ranch, his family, and especially his oldest daughter.

I head toward the main office, pushing open the door and finding Holland behind his desk with a cup of coffee in one hand and his computer mouse in the other.

“Hey,” I say. “You got a minute?”

He looks up, eyes flicking to the clock on the wall before coming back to me. “For you? Always.”

I take the chair across from him and lean forward on my elbows. “I ran into Albert Storm today.”

That gets his attention. He sets the mouse aside. “Yeah?”

“Saw him heading into Blackey’s Barbecue. Figured it was too good a shot to pass up, so I sat down with him. Talked to him about the land.”

“And?” Holland’s eyebrows are in his hairline as he watches me closely.

“He’s not opposed. Said he doesn’t like the idea of Matty running herself into the ground, and he’s open to whatever could ease some of that pressure. He told me if I put a fair proposal in front of her, he’d back it. ”

Holland lets out a slow whistle and sits back in his chair. “That’s a big win.”

“It’s a start,” I correct. “He made it clear that Matty’s the one with the final say. And I’ve got a feeling she’s not exactly the type who’s gonna jump at the chance to hand over Storm acreage to some outsider.”

He nods. “You’re probably right. But if Albert’s behind you, she’ll listen differently. She won’t like it, but she’ll listen.”

“Maybe.”

We fall quiet for a moment.

Holland takes a long sip from his mug before setting it down. “I’m almost finished here. Want to grab some dinner and discuss your next move?”

I clear my throat and rub the back of my neck. “Actually … I’m calling it early tonight.”

His eyes narrow, curious now. “That so?”

“Ran into one of Matty’s sisters—Charli—at the pharmacy. She invited me out to The Soused Cow tonight.”

His grin spreads slow and wide. “Well, well, look at you, Mr. Social Butterfly.”

“It wasn’t exactly an engraved invitation.

Hell, I might have invited myself now that I think about it,” I say, laughing.

“I overheard her telling another girl that Matty was going, the band Wildhaven Junction is playing, and it sounded like the kind of event that gets half the valley drunk and dancing.”

“That’s because it is,” Holland says, pointing at me with his mug. “Locals live for a Friday night at The Soused Cow. Beer’s cheap, and the music’s good.”

“Sounds like a party,” I say dryly.

“It’s more than that,” he says. “It’s the perfect opportunity to get close to Maitland. She’ll have her guard down. Might even be in a good mood for once.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” And now that I say it out loud, something about that doesn’t sit right with me. I frown and shake my head. “I’m not trying to catch her in a vulnerable moment, Holland. I’m not playing with her.”

“You’re not playing with her,” he says. He sits back in his chair, and his eyes meet mine.

“But don’t kid yourself. You’re not just going to The Soused Cow to shake your ass and sip a light beer.

You’re going because she’s going. Because you want her to see you when her defenses are down. To like you.”

I stare at him, and for a second, I don’t answer. Then I exhale and stand, dragging a hand through my hair.

“I want to get to know her and to understand her. That’s not the same thing.”

Holland nods, expression unreadable now. “All right. Just don’t forget why you’re here. You’ve got a job to do.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

But as I step out into the crisp air and glance toward the horizon, where the sky is just starting to blush pink and orange, I’m not thinking about acreage.

I’m thinking about Matty in something other than work boots.

I’m thinking about the way her voice softens when she talks to her horse.

I’m wondering if she laughs like her sister does—sharp, unapologetic, honest.

I want to be the one to make her laugh.

And that’s not the kind of thing you can file under business.

I head to my truck and drive back to the cabin to clean up.