“Darla? Is that you?” Josie Wilken lumbered up the concrete steps from the basement meeting room. “I thought I heard the door.” Her smile went broad, the ends of her mouth accented with crescent-shaped dimples. Like everyone else in the group, Josie had gray hair, though she always wore it coiled on top of her head in a carefree knot that bobbed to one side and then the other when she walked.
“You’re late,” Josie announced with a glance at her watch. As the group’s fearless leader, she’d always been a stickler for time. “You missed refreshments.”
Darla grinned at her and fluffed her hair back into shape. “I don’t need refreshments. I own a confectionary.” She had a little too much access to refreshments, if you asked her. Her quality control procedures kept her about ten pounds heavier than she’d like to be.
“Speaking of…how’d the new recipe turn out?” Josie was always giving her ideas for new combinations to try. “For the lavender-infused truffles?”
“They turned out unbelievable.” Darla unearthed a small box of them from her purse. “Seriously. I never would’ve thought to try it, but once again, brilliant.” She handed the box to Josie.
“I knew it would turn out!” The woman opened the box and popped a truffle into her mouth, closing her eyes in obvious rapture. “Damn, I’m good.”
Darla laughed and linked their arms together, guiding her friend back down the steps to the basement. “So how’ve you been?” Seeing these friends only once a month meant there was always plenty of gossip to catch up on. In fact, that’s really what the group had turned into—a place to talk about life with people who knew what it meant to live with a missing piece.
“It’s been a boring month,” Josie complained. “The kids at school are doing all this crappy testing, so I haven’t even been able to do any fun projects.” As the art teacher at a local elementary school, fun projects were Josie’s specialty. “What about you?” Her friend paused outside the door of the community meeting room. “How’s your month been?”
Darla gave the same answer she usually did. “Good. Busy.” Though she would’ve liked it to be busier. Topaz Falls didn’t exactly see many tourists October through November. Things didn’t usually pick up until the ski season started, and even that had been slower with the warm, dry winters they’d had the last few years. “Hopefully we’ll have a busy Christmas season this year.” God knew the town needed it. They’d already lost three businesses over the last several months.
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about Christmas.” Josie rested her hand on Darla’s shoulder, giving it a compassionate squeeze. “You’ll be comin’ up on the big one-zero this year, huh?”
Darla was only half paying attention. Inside the room, she could hear Peter, Ralph, and Norman discussing Peter’s latest date. “One-zero?” she asked, still trying to eavesdrop on the men’s conversation.
“Yeah.” Josie steered Darla’s gaze back to hers. “You know, the ten-year anniversary.”
The realization of what her friend meant sent her heart skidding. “Oh. Right.” December 23. Ten years since Gray had died. “I guess I haven’t really thought about it too much,” she lied. The closer the holiday got, the more that date seemed to cross her mind.
“It’s a tough one. That ten years,” Josie said solemnly. She’d lost her partner twelve years ago, so she always liked to keep Darla informed on what to expect as time went on. “I don’t why, but that one hit me the hardest. Almost had me a mental breakdown, I did. Made me reevaluate everything in my life.” Josie and Karen had been together for almost twenty years, which was more than triple the time Darla had shared with Gray, but somehow that didn’t seem to matter. A soul mate was a soul mate whether you’d spent six years with them or twenty.
“You got a plan for how you’re gonna get through it?” Josie was big on plans.
“Like I said, I haven’t thought about it too much,” Darla said, brushing the whole thing off. “It’s always such a busy time of year. And I don’t usually mark the anniversary.” In fact, she did everything she could to keep herself too occupied to think about it at all. That was her plan: avoidance through escapism. So far, it had worked pretty well for her. In fact, it could work for her right now. She peeked back into the meeting room. “We’d better get in there before we miss all the juicy details about Peter’s date.”
“What? That scoundrel! I told him to wait until I got back!” Josie took the bait and charged into the room with Darla at her heels.
“Hello, gentlemen.” She dug into her purse and retrieved more boxes of truffles, handing one to each man.
“My god, I wish I was thirty years younger.” Norman gave her a scandalous hug. At eighty, he was the oldest in the group, but also the most handsome, she’d say.
“Lookin’ good, doll.” Ralph took his turn next. “Thanks for the chocolate. You’re my dream girl.”
Darla smiled and placed a kiss on his cheek. Come to think of it, this could be why she hadn’t left the group yet. It was good for her self-esteem.
“They’d have to fight me for you,” Peter told her, forgoing the hug completely to give her a quick smooch on the lips.
“All a bunch of playboys,” Josie mumbled behind them.
“And I love them.” Darla gave her friend a wink. These men were actually decent and kind, and still loyal to the loves they’d lost. Not to mention, they all had the most wonderful distinct smell—Norman’s with hints of pipe smoke in his sweater, Ralph’s like the Tabasco sauce he poured on everything, and Peter’s like cheap aftershave. There had been plenty of others in the group who had come and gone but the five of them had a special bond.
“What took so long?” Peter demanded, munching his way through his third truffle. “What were you two talking about in the hallway?” Chocolate crumbs sprinkled his chin.
“Darla’s coming up on her ten-year,” Josie informed the others.
Groans went all around.
Seriously? It was that bad? Dread crammed itself tightly into her chest. “It’s really not a big deal.”
Peter finished off the last truffle. “Oh, it’s a big deal all right.”
“There’s something about a decade that makes you rethink your whole life,” Ralph added.
Josie’s head bobbed in a self-important nod. “That’s exactly what I told her.”
“And I’m telling you all, I’ll be fine.” She didn’t want to hear any more about how hard it would be. This year was like any other. She had her business, she had her friends, and she’d plan a whole lot of festive events to keep her moving from one thing to the next.
Darla took Peter’s hand and led the way over to the circle of chairs they usually sat in for their discussions. “Now how did that date go last month?”
For the next hour they discussed poor Peter’s disastrous date. The woman had brought her cat to the restaurant in her purse. Peter had been caught unawares when the cat climbed up his leg and started to nibble. When the poor man had jumped out of his chair, the entire table had flipped over.
“I wish you’d agree to go out with me,” he said to Darla as they were wrapping up.
“Sorry, Pete. You know I don’t date.” She went out with men—and sometimes hooked up with the very tempting specimens—but as far as a traditional dating relationship—that had always been off the table.
Josie sent a look to the others and at the exact same time, they all opened their mouths. “Ten years,” they said in a chorus.
“Wow, did you guys practice that?” Darla stood and folded her chair. “Is that what you were doing before I came? Rehearsing?”
“Sorry, love.” Norman swooped in and put her chair away for her. “We just don’t want you caught off guard. It’s better to be prepared.”
“And anyway, I don’t understand why you don’t date,” Josie said, supervising while Norman took care of the rest of the chairs. “If your loss is no big deal and all.”
Darla gave her a look. “Wow, it’s such a bummer we’re out of time t
onight. Guess we’ll have to save that topic for another time.”
“Another time never comes,” the woman muttered, but Darla pretended like she hadn’t heard. “Can I give you a ride home tonight, Ms. Josie?”
That perked up her friend’s sullen expression. “Sure.” She never could resist a ride in the Roadster.
They all walked up the stairs together, filing out onto the street while they pulled on hats and gloves and coats. Darla went ahead and stuffed her wig and sunglasses into her purse since it was dark outside. Everyone exchanged more hugs and a few stolen kisses—Josie nearly slapped Peter when he snuck one onto her lips. After the hearty goodbyes, Darla and Josie crossed the street.
“Poor Peter. I was dying when he told us how the cat jumped the waiter.” That had to be one of the best date stories Darla had ever heard.
“That’s what you get when you use those online dating sites,” Josie said. “A bunch of weirdos.”
“And you wonder why I don’t da—” A spray of ice-cold slush hit Darla’s upper body seconds before a truck blazed past. Cold. She gasped and sputtered, trying to mop her face with the sleeve of her coat, which had been soaked clean through. Oh god, it was freezing. She glanced at Josie, who by some miracle had been spared. “Who the heck—?” The truck in question pulled over next to the curb ahead of them and stopped just behind her car.
It was a big truck. A black burly diesel extended cab with a familiar pro-rodeo bumper sticker.
Uh-oh…
“I’m sorry.” Ty Forrester got out and came jogging down the sidewalk. “I didn’t even see you there until it was too late.”
Darla stopped dead in her soggy tracks. No. Not Ty. Anyone but Ty. “It’s fine,” she called, lowering her voice so he wouldn’t recognize it. “No worries.” Leave. Turn around and get into your truck. But Ty was a cowboy and if there was one thing a cowboy couldn’t stand, it was leaving a damsel in distress.
“It’s not fine,” he said, making a fast approach. Of course he had to look good. Ty always looked good. He wasn’t tall, but his upper body had a lot of brawn, which didn’t seem to fit the classically handsome structure of his face. Maybe it was the perfect angle of his jaw or the inviting curve of his mouth, or the magnetic energy in his deep-set blue eyes. Yes, those eyes. They happened to be the perfect contrast to his dark hair.
“You’re soaked—” Ty’s eyes went wide when he stopped two feet away. “Darla? Is that you?”
Leave it to her to try to hide right under a streetlight. Now she wouldn’t be able to vanish into the darkness like a mysterious mirage.
“Damn, it is you,” he said when she remained silent. “I thought that looked like your car. What’re you doing here?”
“Noth—” she started, but Josie butted in.
“We just finished our bereaved spouses’ support group meeting,” her friend offered. “I’m Josie Wilken, by the way. And you are?”
“Ty. Ty Forrester. I’m a friend of Darla’s. From Topaz Falls.” He quickly wriggled out of his winter coat and wrapped it around Darla. “I’m sorry. Did you say bereaved spouses’ group?”
“Yep. As in dead spouses,” Josie said helpfully.
“Spouses?” A look of pure shock bolted his gaze to Darla. “Wait. You were…? You’re a…?”
“Yes,” she huffed through a put-out sigh. And that overly sympathetic look on his face was the exact reason she didn’t talk about it with anyone back home. Most of her friends knew she’d been married, but she hadn’t offered many details.
“Wow.” Ty diverted his disbelieving stare to the ground. “I’m so sorry for your loss. I had no idea.”
“But you said you were a friend.” Josie turned to Darla and crossed her arms. “Surely you tell your friends about your dead husband.”
“Friend can mean a lot of different things.” In her and Ty’s case, it was a bit more complicated than she’d like. He happened to be one of the more tempting varieties of men. Combine that with the fact that he was single, she was single—and it was slim pickings in Topaz Falls—so of course certain things had happened between them. A few times. Isolated incidents, if you will. Until she realized she’d started to like those incidents a little too much, to think of him a bit too often. Then she’d shut it down. “I was married a long time ago,” she informed Ty. “And I was a completely different person back then.”
That didn’t seem to alleviate the concern that pulled at his mouth. He was likely cataloging back through their sexy encounters to figure out how he’d missed the fact that she was a widow.
“She’s coming up on her ten-year anniversary,” said Josie, aka the informant. “I was telling her that’s one of the toughest.”
Aaannd that was her cue. “Josie, why don’t you go ahead and get into the car?” Darla found her keys and hit the UNLOCK button. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Right.” Her friend suddenly seemed to realize she’d overstepped. “Nice to meet you, Ty,” she said as she scurried away.
“Yeah. Nice to meet you too.” He didn’t even look in Josie’s direction. The man was obviously trying to wrap his head around the new information he’d learned, but Darla would stop him right there.
“You never said what you’re doing here.” Other than ruining a perfectly good secret eight years in the making.
“Oh.” Ty seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts. “I had to get a part for my truck. This was the only location that had it in stock.”
Of course it was. The universe loved her like that. “So what’s it going to take for you to keep this quiet?” she asked, getting down to business.
“Keep what quiet?”
“The bereavement group. No one knows and I’d like to keep it that way.” If her friends found out, they’d think she wasn’t over her past. Then they’d wonder why she didn’t talk to them about it, so they’d start trying to talk about it all the time.
Ty continued to stare at her with that damned frown. “I won’t tell anyone, Darla.”
God, even the way he said her name had changed. It was so solemn. They used to joke around, poke fun at each other, banter back and forth, but now he obviously felt sorry for her.
“I know you’re surprised, but it happened a long time ago.” In another life, it sometimes felt.
“You still attend a support group,” he pointed out.
“Because they’re my friends.” She didn’t know why she even tried. There was obviously no talking him out of the sympathy he suddenly felt for her. Which meant she would simply have to work hard to convince him—and everyone else—she was fine.
About the Author
Sara Richardson grew up chasing adventure in Colorado’s rugged mountains. She’s climbed to the top of a fourteen-thousand-foot peak at midnight, swum through Class IV rapids, completed her wilderness first-aid certification, and spent seven days at a time tromping through the wilderness with a thirty-pound backpack strapped to her shoulders.
Eventually Sara did the responsible thing and got an education in writing and journalism. After a brief stint in the corporate writing world, she stopped ignoring the voices in her head and started writing fiction. Now she uses her experience as a mountain adventure guide to write stories that incorporate adventure with romance. Sara lives and plays in Colorado, where she still indulges her adventurous spirit, with her saint of a husband and two young sons.
You can learn more at:
SaraRichardson.net
Twitter @SaraR_Books
Facebook.com/SaraRichardsonBooks
Instagram @Sarar_Books
Also by Sara Richardson
Heart of the Rockies Series
No Better Man
Something Like Love
“One Christmas Wish” (short story)
More Than a Feeling
“Rocky Mountain Wedding” (short story)
Rocky Mountain Riders Series
Hometown Cowboy
Comeback Cowboy
Renegade Cowboy
True-Blue Cowboy
“Rocky Mountain Cowboy Christmas” (short story)
ACCLAIM FOR
SARA RICHARDSON’S
PREVIOUS NOVELS
TRUE-BLUE COWBOY
“This well-plotted and expertly characterized trip to small-town Colorado…is a sweet, refreshing summer treat.”
—Publishers Weekly
RENEGADE COWBOY
“A beautifully honest and heartwarming tale about forgiveness and growing up that will win the hearts of fans and newcomers alike.”
—RT Book Reviews
“Top Pick! An amazing story about finding a second chance to be with the one that you love.”
—HarlequinJunkie.com
COMEBACK COWBOY
“Richardson’s empathy for her protagonists shines through every page of her second Rocky Mountain Riders novel, making their long-awaited reunion into a sweet tale that will easily win readers’ hearts.”
—RTBookReviews.com
HOMETOWN COWBOY
“Filled with humor, heart, and love, this page-turner is one wild ride.”
—Jennifer Ryan, New York Times bestselling author
“An emotional ride with characters that come alive on every single page. Sara brings real feelings to every scene she writes.”
—Carolyn Brown, New York Times bestselling author
Colorado Cowboy - Includes a bonus novella Page 26
