Chapter 13
Juniper
She had no idea what to do with free time.
What a strange realization.
June gazed down at the stack of books she had randomly pulled from the shelves of Carson Wells’s writing cabin. They were
an esoteric lot, everything from the history of Wicca to a philosophy book to an in-depth look at water use in Western Australia.
All seemed interesting when she had spied them among Carson’s library. She had wondered with each book her fingers had trailed
over on the shelves why he had purchased this particular title. For book research, for general interest or on a whim?
She had paged through several of them and couldn’t seem to settle on one that held her interest long enough to dig any deeper.
The past few days had been that way. She had taken a leisurely walk to the horse pasture and back. She had answered a few
emails. She had tried, and failed, to take a nap. She had attempted to stream a movie she had heard good things about but
hadn’t made it past the first fifteen minutes before she had lost interest.
She had even broken down and called the office, only to be told by both Jason and Margaret in the same apologetic tone that
they were under strict instructions from Adam not to take any calls, texts or emails from her for at least the next three
weeks.
Three weeks. What was she supposed to do during that time? The idea of that much leisure time left her vaguely panicky.
Her entire adult life, June had been grinding and pushing and planning. Longer, even. Back to the days when she had been a grief-stricken teenager in a situation beyond her control, June had focused on making plans.
From high school onward, she had done her best to study hard so she could earn top marks in school and had filled every available
moment she wasn’t studying with part-time jobs or volunteer work.
When you fail to plan, you plan to fail. It had been one of her mother’s favorite phrases. Yes, it was a cliché. But Elizabeth Connelly had lived by those words and
had carefully mapped out their future.
As a working mother raising June on her own, what other choice did she have?
She supposed her mother had laid out the pattern June had ended up following. Elizabeth had taken few moments of relaxation
for herself, except at night when she would curl up in her favorite chair and escape into books.
Her mother had always worked two jobs to support them. She had taught high school English during the day and had a second
job as a freelance proofreader for various local businesses that filled many of her evening hours.
She had saved all the benefits she had received as a military widow in an account for June.
They never had much money to spare, but they always had enough for books.
Her mother would have loved this writing retreat, with its walls of books and its comfortable chairs and its cozy vibe, especially
knowing it had been the place where Carson Wells had created many of his most iconic works.
What would Elizabeth say about June staying here? She couldn’t even imagine.
Her mother had been gone nearly twenty years and she still found herself wanting to call or text her something every single
day.
June set down the books. She wasn’t in the mood to read, though she still didn’t know what she did want to do.
She was tempted to take the path between here and Beck Hunter’s place to see if he had finished the table he had been making.
Watching him the other day had been a strangely visceral experience. She still didn’t understand why it had impacted her so
much.
No. She wasn’t ready to see the man again. Not until she had a chance to build up more immunity to him and remind herself
why she didn’t like him.
That didn’t mean she couldn’t still take another walk. The Painted Sky ranch had several scenic walking trails. From what
Alison had told her, Carson would sometimes walk for hours along the same paths when he was trying to figure out a particular
plot point or character arc, his own sort of meditation circle.
She decided to follow the creek and see where she ended up.
The afternoon was lovely, with a few scattered clouds and a light breeze that rustled the leaves of the undergrowth. She couldn’t
get enough of those mountains that loomed beyond the ranch.
It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen mountains before. Seattle had lovely green hills. On a clear day she loved seeing them from
her penthouse yet somehow, these Wyoming mountains seemed more wild and rugged.
A narrow path followed the creek, which was no wider than six or seven feet across, and she enjoyed picturing a famous writer
trying to work out his plot problems here.
Something silvery and fast glinted in the sunlight. Was it a trout? Ali had told her the creek was teeming with them and was
famous for fly-fishing.
She leaned over for a closer look, grabbing hold of a tree branch so she didn’t slip into the water.
When she straightened, she felt that odd flutter in her chest, a reminder of the device that was ready to shock her back to life if necessary.
Panic spurted through her and for one terrible moment, she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Bark gouged her fingers as she
gripped the tree limb tightly.
She hated this. She wanted her life back. She wanted herself back!
She closed her eyes and tried to center herself. It took a good five minutes before she felt as if she could return to the
safety of the cabin.
With sweat crawling down her spine like she was running a long race on a humid summer afternoon, she made her slow way back.
She had covered maybe half the distance back to the cabin when she heard someone calling her name. Alison, she realized.
Sweet relief poured through her. She was still panicky, but at least she didn’t have to be afraid she would die alone here
on the trail.
“I’m here,” she called back. “On the creek trail.”
A moment later, she spotted the younger woman coming toward her.
“Is everything okay?” Alison asked. “You look pale.”
“I’m fine. I might have overdone things a little.”
“I’m glad I found you. I was worried when you didn’t answer your phone.”
“I must have forgotten it,” she confessed. As if she needed more proof that everything was upside down in her life right now.
She never went anywhere without her phone.
“You should always keep your phone with you if you leave the cabin, in case you need help or something.”
“I’ll do that,” she said, feeling chastened, but still grateful for Alison’s concern and her generosity in sharing her family’s
ranch. June still didn’t quite understand why Alison was being so kind to her, but she had decided to simply accept it.
She drew in another deep breath, feeling more centered now that Alison was there.
“Was there a reason you dropped by?”
“Nothing major. I wanted to see if you would like to come up to the house for dinner. It won’t be fancy, only salmon and some
early vegetables from the garden, but Jo, our housekeeper, is a great cook and so is my grandmother.”
Her instinct was to refuse the invitation, unsure if she was up for an evening of making small talk with Alison and the grandmother
she had yet to meet. But how could she refuse, when they had so kindly offered this comfortable, restful place to recuperate?
“That would be nice. What time?”
Ali checked her watch. “Anytime. Grandma is home from the bookstore and is working on a salad. She likes to have dinner early.”
In her Before life, June would still be working at this hour, with a few more hours left at her desk before she grabbed a quick sandwich
and another coffee on her way home to continue working until bedtime.
Right now, the thought of that life completely exhausted her.
“Sure. Now is fine. I don’t have any other plans.”
Alison smiled. “Great. Grandma will be happy.”
“I should grab a sweater and run a brush through my hair.”
“Sounds good.”
They turned together and headed back toward the writing cabin, with its green roofline and river-rock chimney.
“I’m glad to see you out exploring the area. Have you done much hiking?”
June remembered that uncomfortable spurt of fear on the trail. “Not really. I went to the horse pasture earlier today and
tried to walk along the creek just now, but didn’t make it far.”
“You will. Don’t be discouraged. You’ve been through an ordeal. It takes time to recover your strength.”
“I suppose. I have to admit I’m struggling with the inactivity. I’m not used to doing so much... nothing.”
Alison laughed. “I know exactly what you mean. I keep having this nagging feeling between my shoulder blades that I’m forgetting
to do something important. I’ve only been out of school since April and still can’t shake the feeling I should be studying
for a test or writing a paper or something.”
“You are studying for the bar, though.”
Alison sighed. “I know. That gives me plenty to do. I just have to push myself to get going.”
The clear reluctance in her voice made June frown. Why did she sound so conflicted? She would have thought Alison would be
eager to take the last step to becoming an attorney.
At the cabin, June washed her face and brushed her hair, then changed into a fresh shirt.
As they walked the short distance to the ranch house, Alison chattered about her day spent at the bookstore and about Xander
Scott, the friend she’d gone to lunch with in town.
“I’m sure you’ll get the chance to meet him,” Alison said. “We’re in and out of each other’s houses all the time. He and I
might be taking a horseback ride into the mountains sometime this summer. Will you be okay if I’m not around for a few days?”
Why wouldn’t she? “You’re not responsible for my health, Alison.”
“Will you please call me Ali? Everybody does except my grandmother. When you call me Alison, I feel like I’m back at the Move
Inc offices being reprimanded for not speaking up about something in the marketing meeting.”
“Was I really that terrible to work for?”
“Not at all. I simply wasn’t cut out for the management internship.”
“Why did you apply in the first place?” June asked. “I’ve been trying to figure that out. It seems an odd choice for you.”
Alison hesitated. “I can’t really tell you. I guess it was a fluke, really. One of those random decisions we don’t always understand. I heard about it and for some reason I was intrigued.”
What was that evasive note June heard in her voice?
“I had heard good things about you and about your management training program,” Alison went on. “I thought I might be a good
fit. I was obviously wrong, but if I hadn’t been there, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we?”
That was true on many levels. June could only be grateful for whatever twist of fate had brought them together that day so
that Ali could save her life.
“Oh, look. Beck is here. Great! Grandma didn’t tell me she was inviting him, too.”
June looked quickly up at the house, where she saw a man walking in.
So much for avoiding him. That might be difficult when they were seated at the same table, sharing a meal together.
When they walked into the ranch house, he greeted them, looking dark and gorgeous in tan slacks and a casual blue shirt.
June was uncomfortably aware of a sudden thrum of awareness that took her completely off guard, as if she had accidentally
touched an electric fence.
When was the last time she had reacted physically to someone? She honestly couldn’t remember. She hadn’t dated anyone in more
than a year and hadn’t really missed it.
That was definitely a tingle, though. Maybe the kick-start to her heart had also started something in her hormones, a side
effect the doctors hadn’t bothered to mention.
“Hey, Beck! I didn’t know you were coming to dinner.” Alison smiled broadly.
“It was kind of a last-minute thing. I was about to make a sandwich when Loretta texted to invite me a half hour ago.”
“I always make too much when I grill salmon.” An older woman joined them. “We have plenty. You know what I always say. The
more, the merrier.”
When she smiled, Alison’s grandmother’s entire face seemed to light up from the inside. “Hello, my dear. I’m Loretta Wells. I hope you’re enjoying your stay here at The Painted Sky.”
“I am, thank you. I’m grateful for your kindness in letting me stay.”
“Of course. Of course. It’s no trouble at all.”
There was something familiar about this woman, but June couldn’t put her finger on exactly what that might be.
“Is everything all right for you down at the cabin? Jo and I tried to fill the pantry and the refrigerator with anything you
might need, but please let us know if there’s something else we can get you.”
“You’re very kind. Thank you.”
“I tried to persuade Alison you would be more comfortable here at the house, but she insisted you would enjoy the cabin more.
I hope you know that if you ever get lonely down there and need company, you’re more than welcome to move up here. We have
plenty of room.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
Loretta made a dismissive gesture. “Nonsense. Any friend of Alison’s is a friend of mine.”
Were she and Alison friends? June shifted her gaze to the other woman, who was chatting with Beckett about one of the ranch
horses. Somehow, they had become friends over the past few weeks and not only because the other woman had saved her life.
She liked her. When not worrying about her job performance, Ali was funny and warm and smart. She had also been incredibly
supportive to June after her cardiac arrest.
“This is almost ready. I only have to take the salmon off the grill.”
“I appreciate you going to so much work.”
“Jo did most of it. All I had to do was throw together a salad and toss the salmon on the grill. Why don’t we eat out on the
deck? It would be a shame to waste such a lovely evening.”
“Great idea,” Ali said. “How can we help, Grandma?”
“You can move everything outside for me.”
Together, they grabbed plates, glasses, cutlery and several bowls of food and carried it all out to a covered deck that overlooked
a small lake—more like a pond—edged with a thick stand of pines and the grand mountains soaring to meet the setting sun.
“Oh,” June exclaimed. “How beautiful.”
“The house was built on this exact spot to take advantage of the view,” Ali explained. “Dad loved to sit out here in the evening
and read a book.”
When they had carried all the dishes out to the cedar-plank table, Loretta flipped a switch that illuminated sconces along
the walls and the pillars holding up the roof over the deck. She also switched on a gas fireplace, more for the mood than
for heat, as the evening was mild.
June wasn’t sure if it was the setting or the company, but the meal was delicious. The salmon was flavorful and the salad
tasted fresh and delicious.
Since her cardiac event, the flavor of everything she tasted seemed enhanced.
She enjoyed listening to the easy camaraderie among Beckett, Alison and Loretta. The man seemed more like family than merely
a neighbor.
“We are monopolizing the conversation,” Loretta said after they had nearly finished with dinner. “How rude we are, talking
about people our guest doesn’t know. I’m sorry about that, Juniper. Why don’t you tell us about yourself. Where are you from?
Do you have a big family?”
June thought she saw Ali and Beck exchange an odd look, one she couldn’t quite interpret. “I’m afraid not. I don’t have any
family.”
“None at all?” Loretta’s eyes widened with shock and something else that looked like pity.
“None at all,” she confirmed. “My father died when I was only a few months old. My mom raised me by herself. It was always just the two of us.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been incredibly difficult for her. But at least she had you.”
June blinked, her eyes suddenly burning. “Yes. We were very close.”
“Were?” Loretta asked with a sympathy in her expression that almost made those tears spill out, much to June’s dismay.
“She died when I was fifteen.”
“Oh, no. I’m so very sorry. You poor thing. What did you do?”
“I was lucky enough to be placed in a loving foster home in a California beach town for my last few years of high school.
I still keep in touch with them.”
“That is lucky. I hear so many horror stories about the foster care system.”
June would be forever grateful for Stella Davenport and the nieces she had raised on her own, who had opened their home not
only to June but also many other foster children over the years. Stella still ran a charity event in Cape Sanctuary to benefit
other foster families, and June donated generously to support her work.
“Well, now you have another family here in Wyoming,” Loretta said with a sincerity that touched June all over again. “Alison
saved your life so that makes you one of us.”
Ali and Beck, she saw, were exchanging another one of those looks June couldn’t quite interpret. Ali spoke up quickly.
“Grandma, June is looking for a project while she’s staying at the cabin. Is there anything she could do while she’s there?
I had the idea that maybe if she wanted to, she could help us sort through some of Dad’s papers that we plan to donate to
the university special collections in Laramie.”
Loretta made a face. “Oh, she wouldn’t want to go through all those dusty boxes. He never threw anything away.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” June said quickly. She would love poring over the papers of Carson Wells to see into the inner workings of his mind.
“She and her mom were both big fans of Dad’s work,” Alison said.
“Do you have any training in document preservation?” Beckett asked in a doubtful tone.
“Not a bit,” she admitted.
“We might be better off letting the Special Collections department handle the boxes. His papers are already a jumbled mess.
We might take a chaotic situation and make it worse.”
Ali’s expression mirrored June’s own disappointment. She had been warming to the idea. How could she argue, without sounding
ungrateful for all that everyone had already done for her?
At least she was grateful for one thing—Beck had reminded her that she had good reason to dislike him.