two daughters alone. Of course, his circumstances had recently changed, now that he’d met and married Kate Sullivan, but Becca’s point had been made.
“You’re taking this remarkably well,” Hadley said, her tone admiring. “I was so mad that on the drive over here, I was imagining far-fetched schemes to have Truitt disgraced. One of them involved costumes and code words and his ending up in a South American prison.”
Becca shook her head at the younger woman. She’d wanted the librarian on her campaign because Hadley was bright and creative, but sometimes her imagination went to weird places. “We don’t need elaborate schemes—”
“Code names could be fun,” Sierra said.
“—when we have talent and skill,” Becca finished. “Truitt is shortsighted. He can create unnecessary obstacles, but I’ll look twice as good to voters when I overcome all of them.”
Sierra tapped her index finger against her chin. “Only if the general populace knows about the behind-the-scenes obstacles. If you talk about problems that crop up, you risk sounding whiny. But the rest of us can strategically spread the word. Manuel and I make all kinds of small talk with our patients while trying to distract them from the pain of their workouts. And Kate’s grandmother Joan can casually mention your committee progress at her quilting club and weekly senior-center poker games.”
Becca nodded, although she temporarily lost her train of thought when she heard a vehicle engine outside.
Hadley cocked her head, her expression shrewd. “Everything okay? That’s the third time tonight you’ve tensed when a car passed by.”
“It is?” Damn. Becca had impressed her friends by being unfazed by Mayor Truitt’s shenanigans, yet she was as high-strung as a horse during a thunderstorm when it came to the idea of her new tenant returning.
True to his word, Sawyer had been gone when she got up this morning. She had no idea when to expect him back—or if she’d even encounter him, given his private access to the attic. The big problem was that she hadn’t informed the other two women of his presence. Earlier, she’d almost told them that she’d rented the room, but realized they’d ask to whom. She’d balked at admitting it was Hadley’s “hot cowboy in the tight jeans.”
Better get it over with it. This was Cupid’s Bow. She was lucky they hadn’t heard about Sawyer already.
Sierra laughed. “She’s probably just listening for Marc to come home and you’ve found some way to turn it into a mystery.”
“Actually, I was listening for my new tenant.” Becca stood, giving the explanation casually as she carried their empty snack tray toward the kitchen. “I finally rented out that attic apartment. I told him he was welcome to use my kitchen for dinner, but I’m not sure when—or if—he’ll be in tonight.”
Both women were right on her heels as she refilled the platter with cheese, crackers and grapes.
“He?” Sierra asked. “Somehow I always imagined you with a female roommate.”
Me and you both, sister. “Maybe I’ll rent to a woman next. He won’t be here long.” Just a few weeks...although if she stayed this antsy the entire time, it was going to feel like a lot more.
“Who is he?” Hadley asked.
“A friend of Brody Davenport’s. He’s going to help with the centennial trail ride, and in the meantime he’s writing some travel articles about—”
“Whoa!” Hadley’s dark eyes were huge. “You don’t mean the guy who was with Brody yesterday at The Smoky Pig?”
“Um, yeah.” Becca cleared her throat. “That’s him. Sawyer.”
“I can’t believe your luck!” Hadley said.
Frowning, Sierra leaned on the kitchen counter. “I’m not sure if this is good luck.”
“Are you kidding me?” Hadley demanded. “She’s got the hottest cowboy since your man living under her roof.”
Sierra smiled faintly at the reference to her boyfriend, Jarrett, but her tone remained wary. “You guys know I love my adopted hometown.” She’d moved to Cupid’s Bow from Dallas almost a year ago. “But people here can be a little...old-fashioned in their thinking. The worst of them question whether a woman can do the job of mayor—which, hell, yes—and even the well-meaning worry about her juggling the demands with being a single mom. How is it going to look that said single mom is shacking up with—”
“Hey!” Becca objected.
Sierra waved her hand in an impatient gesture. “I’m not implying a damn thing. But you know how gossip flows in this town.”
Faster than champagne at an open-bar wedding.
“Well, then you should introduce him to me,” Hadley suggested with a cheeky grin. “If he and I are dating, it removes you from any speculation.”
Sierra snorted. “Way to take one for the team.”
“Okay, I’m not subtle,” Hadley admitted, “but we don’t all have gorgeous ranchers in our lives.”
Sierra grinned. “Jarrett is gorgeous. And sweet. And more sensitive than he wants anyone to know.” Her expression glowed. Witnesses would be able to tell from twenty paces that she was in love.
Had Becca looked like that in the early years of her marriage? When she was the happiest she’d ever been and fully expected that happiness to last the rest of her life? She drained her glass, trying not to feel bitter as she listened to Sierra joke about Jarrett’s latest attempts to get her to try camping.
“He knows I’m not outdoorsy,” Sierra was saying, “but the idea of cuddling in a sleeping bag with him does have merit.”
“Aren’t you going on the centennial trail ride?” Hadley asked.
“Nope. I’m all for celebrating the town’s big anniversary, but I’m not a native. I’ll celebrate from indoors with cake. And air-conditioning.” She checked her watch. “Speaking of Jarrett... I told him I might be home early enough for us to watch a movie.”
“A movie, huh?” Hadley smirked. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
“Smart-ass.” Sierra lightly shoved the other woman’s shoulder. “How would I know what the kids are calling it? I’m older than you are.”
As the only woman over thirty in the room, Becca rolled her eyes. “Neither of you are allowed to use the word old.”
“You’re not much older than we are, but you’re definitely wiser,” Sierra said. “One of many reasons why you’ll make a great mayor. Do you want to work on revamping the celebration budget? I can text Jarrett that I’ll be late.”
“Thanks, but no. You go home to your rancher, and let me crunch the numbers.” The funny thing about Truitt trying to rattle her with a reduced budget was that nothing he threw at her could be as big a shock as her husband leaving and Becca suddenly finding herself the head of a single-income family. Before that were the years she’d tried to cobble together a grocery budget for a large family out
