Page 5 of Huckleberry Hill (Saddles & Spurs #1)

Chapter Four

Town

“Hadley Powell!”

I turned at the screech and smiled as a dimpling woman with wrinkles at the corners of her eyes came out from behind the counter.

“Hi, Lucy,” I said as the older woman embraced me.

“Your daddy was in here the other day, and he said you were headed off to Italy,” she said as she pulled back. “That’s so glamorous.”

I held in a sigh. “Change of plans. I came home for a bit.”

“Hmm.”

“I just stopped in to buy some socks,” I said, wanting to change the subject away from Italy as soon as possible. “And then I’m headed over to Sweet Teeth.”

“Oh, we just got a bunch of socks in. My favorite are the ones with campfires and s’mores on them. Cute as can be.” She hiked up her jeans to show off her ankles.

“They are cute,” I agreed.

“Let me show you all the new socks and then you let me know if you need anything else.”

“I will. Good to see you, Lucy.”

General Merc was the town’s one-stop mercantile shop for farm and hunting equipment.

They sold raw milk and local eggs, too, but for actual groceries you could either go to Dusty’s or to Silver Springs, the next town over.

For any serious farm equipment or replacement parts you either had to order it or make the forty-five-minute drive to Coeur d’Alene.

I was in the middle of perusing the socks when I heard the heavy clomp of cowboy boots across the wooden floor.

“These are so you,” Declan said, reaching in front of me to grab a pair of socks with a pink cow print.

“What are you doing here?” I asked with a frown.

“Connor asked me to pick up some trail cams. For the bear.”

“Oh,” I said.

“You buying socks?”

“Yep. I forgot to pack them,” I said.

In my haste to leave New York, I’d thrown a bunch of clothes into my suitcase without much thought.

“Uh-oh,” I murmured.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

He raised his brows. “Not nothing.”

“Can you go over there?” I asked, pointing to the other end of the store.

“Why?”

“Because I just realized that I also forgot to pack underwear,” I mumbled. “And I need to buy that too.”

He let out a low chuckle, but thankfully he didn’t say anything flirty. Instead, he sauntered up to the counter and began talking to Lucy.

I snatched a few pairs of socks, along with two packages of plain white undies and headed to the register.

“Welcome to Huckleberry Hill, Declan,” Lucy said. “Here, have a candy.” She held out a glass dish that had saltwater taffy in it.

“How did you know I have a thing for sugar?” Declan asked, looking at me and winking.

I rolled my eyes.

Lucy laughed and then glanced at me. “I can put your things on your father’s tab.”

“Nah, I’ll pay,” I said. I reached for my purse and then realized I didn’t have it on me. “Never mind. I forgot my wallet.”

“Tab it is then,” Lucy said. She took my purchases and placed them in a brown paper bag and attempted to hand it back to me, but Declan took it before I could, adding it to his bag.

Lucy’s sigh was dreamy as she looked at Declan. “Have a good day.”

“We will.” Declan winked again and filched another piece of taffy.

We stepped out of General Merc onto the sidewalk. As I headed in the direction of the bakery, Declan kept pace with me. The sun beat down on my face and I breathed in the crisp, cool air.

“Where to next?” Declan asked.

“Sweet Teeth,” I said. “The bakery. You been yet?”

He shook his head.

“Gracie’s a friend from high school. Her husband’s family owns the bakery,” I said. “I was going to stop in and say hi.”

“I’m yours to command,” Declan joked. “So, Italy . . . why were you going to Italy?”

“Italian food,” I quipped.

“I’ve noticed you divert people’s attention with humor when you don’t want to answer a question.”

“Astute of you to notice.”

“So, Italy?” he pressed.

“Why so curious?”

“Why so secretive?” he pushed back. “Just trying to get to know you, buddy.”

“Inquisitions aren’t the way to do it, friend .”

Declan opened the door to Sweet Teeth, and I walked in first. The bakery didn’t look at all like a bakery. It had a rustic, cozy cottage vibe, with heavy wooden tables that were much more suited to a beer hall, several plants hanging from hooks, and a skylight in the A-line roof.

I took out my phone and did a quick video, landing on Declan.

“Say hi.”

“Who am I saying hi to?”

“My sister and my friends,” I said.

“Hi ladies,” Declan drawled.

I ended the video and shot it off to the group text. “Thanks. My roommate Poet loves places like this. I wanted to show it to her.”

“Ah.”

We stepped up to the counter to order. I didn’t recognize the young barista.

“Hi,” I greeted with a smile. “Is Gracie here?”

“Who’s taking my name in vain?” Gracie yelled from the kitchen.

“The friend that kept your hair out of the toilet on prom night,” I called.

A moment later, my old friend popped out from the back, her cheeks pink from the bakery oven and her blonde curls a riotous mass.

She came around the counter and quickly embraced me. “I didn’t think I’d see you until Christmas.”

I didn’t say anything as she released me.

“You have time for a coffee and a chat? Or are you just stopping by?”

“I have a few minutes,” I said.

“Excellent.” She turned her attention to Declan. “And who are you ?”

Declan grinned. “Declan Brewer. The new wrangler for Connor Powell.”

“Wrangler, huh?” Gracie smiled.

“Just started,” Declan confided. “Still getting the lay of the land.”

“Well, your first order is on the house as a welcome gift.” Gracie looked at me. “Yours too.”

“But I’m from here,” I said with a smile.

“I insist,” Gracie said. “Coffee, Declan?”

“Can’t. I rode my motorcycle to town. So I’ll take a donut to go, please. Thanks, Gracie.”

“Motorcycle?” I asked.

He looked at me, blue eyes twinkling. “If you can ride a Harley, you can ride a horse.”

Ride ? I wanna ride . . .

I gulped.

He extracted my bag and handed it to me. “Here’s your underwear.”

“ Declan ,” I hissed, causing him to laugh.

“I’ve got your donut,” the barista said to Declan. Her cheeks were pink and they turned a deeper shade of red when he shot her an easy grin and dropped some cash into the tip jar.

“See you later,” he said to me.

The three of us watched him saunter out of the bakery.

“Wow,” Gracie remarked.

“Yeah,” the barista sighed. “Major wow.”

“He’s not that wow,” I lied.

“Uh-huh,” Gracie said. “Sure. What do you want to drink?”

“A London Fog, please.”

“What the hell is a London Fog?” Gracie demanded.

“You know what? How about a chai tea?”

“Coming right up. Abby, will you take care of that?”

“Sure thing.”

“And bring an assorted plate of pastries, will ya?”

“Absolutely.”

Gracie waved me toward the farthest table tucked back into a corner. “Okay,” she said after we sat down. “First of all, did your fiancé come home for a visit with you?”

I rubbed my third eye. “I don’t have a fiancé anymore. Gianni and I broke up. That’s kind of why I’m home for a bit. To get my bearings, you know?”

“Oh.” She frowned. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

Nodding, I also shrugged.

“Are you thinking of rebounding with Declan?”

Abby set the pastries and chai down on the table. “You should totally rebound with Declan.”

“I’m not rebounding with Declan,” I said adamantly.

“Then what was with all the flirting?” Abby asked.

“He flirts with everyone,” I remarked.

“Yeah, maybe,” Gracie allowed. “But you flirted back.”

“I didn’t!”

“You so did,” Gracie said. “Plus, he flirted differently with you.”

“Yeah, he did,” Abby agreed.

“Flirted differently? What does that even mean?” I demanded.

“If you can ride a Harley, you can ride a horse?” Gracie repeated. “Come on. That’s so hot.”

“Yeah.” Abby fanned herself. “If you don’t want him, you mind if I ask him out?”

I gritted my teeth and then forced a smile. “He’s a little old for you, don’t you think?”

Abby lifted her brows. “I’m twenty-one. How old is he?”

“Thirty-two,” I said.

“Huh. I’ll take him for a test drive. Gotta see about his stamina, you know?”

Her words made my vision flash red. The lizard part of my brain sparked with jealousy. I curled my hands into fists and shoved them into my lap before I did something stupid like wring her neck.

The front door opened and a trio of customers walked in, pulling Abby back to the counter.

“Easy, champ,” Gracie said with a wry smile. “Your cheeks are flushed, and you look like you’re about tackle my best barista to the ground.”

I swallowed. “She’s really your best barista?”

“Yes.”

“Damn it,” I muttered.

Gracie frowned. “You seem more upset about Abby asking Declan out than you do about the loss of your fiancé. Am I reading that wrong?”

“We broke up a week ago,” I said slowly, ignoring her comment about Declan completely. “I’ve already started the grieving process. Don’t want to look behind me and dwell.”

“That sounds healthy. Why does that sound so healthy?”

“Salem wanted me to donate all his clothes to the thrift store.” I grinned. “So when he comes home from Italy, he’ll have nothing. She’s feral. So, I have to be the healthy one.”

“I wouldn’t want to get on Salem’s bad side.” She cocked her head. “Did she come home with you?”

“She couldn’t. I took time off work because I was supposed to go to Italy with Gianni, but yeah . . . I came home instead.”

“Ah.” She pushed the plate of pastries toward me. “Your dad and grandmother must be happy to have you home.”

“They are.” I picked up a lady-finger-looking pastry and took a bite. “Oh, this is good. I promised my dad I’d bring home a grab bag of your pastries. So remind me before I leave to get a box.”

“Will do,” she said. “So, what’s your plan while you’re home?”

“Ride, spend time with my grandmother and father. Other than that, not much.”

Lick my wounds while trying not to lick Declan .

My spine snapped straight, and I forced that unwelcome thought out of my head.

“Well, you can’t head back to New York before the mushroom festival,” Gracie said.

“We’ll see.”

I didn’t want to commit to anything long-term. I’d had enough long-term to last me a while.

“So, tell me . . . how great is married life?” I asked.

“You think I’m going to talk about how happily married I am when you just ended an engagement?”

“I want you to,” I pressed. “I need to remember that there are people who get their happily-ever-afters.”

“If you insist, but I’m not bragging or anything,” she said with a grin.

“You can brag a little,” I said with a laugh.

She pulled out her cell phone. “We’re great, actually. I caught Bella napping on Cole the other day and I got a picture.”

Gracie swiped through her phone and then turned the screen to me. Her one-year-old daughter was asleep on her husband’s chest.

A pang shot through my heart.

“Adorable,” I croaked.

Gracie looked up at me, her gaze shrewd. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Emotion tightened my throat. “Just a reminder that I won’t have that with Gianni.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. I told you I didn’t want to talk about this.”

“No, don’t do that,” I stated. “I’m happy you’re happy. You’ve had enough shit happen to you.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Plenty of shit in this world. And we all go through it, don’t we?”

“Yeah, we do.” I sighed and looked at my phone, noting the time. “I better get home. Box me up your favorite pastries, will ya?”