Page 50 of Her Saltwater Cowboy

“Who doesn’t love a bowl of mac ’n’ cheese?”

“I don’t think dogs do.”

Willow chuckled. “Pretty sure they do.”

Her mother thought about that.

“Well, Mom, you’ll be happy to know that I have a much more sophisticated palate now.”

Her mother leaned forward conspiratorially. “Are you sure?”

“I am. I even made okra last week!” She didn’t mention that she had to throw the rest of it away after the hands ignored the dish. Even Brandy at the neighboring ranch raised her brows at the offer of leftovers. (She took them to be neighborly, though.)

Her mother wrinkled her nose. “I wouldn’t eat that.”

Willow laughed again.Get in line, mama.“Tell me about your favorite meal here? What does the chef make?”

She clapped her hands together and listed off several menu items consisting of old-fashioned comfort foods like roast chicken, buttered beans, mashed potatoes and gravy.

“Sounds like you have really good food here. I make all of that for the ranch hands too.”

“You do?”

“Yes, and they gobble it up too.”

“Oh.” Her mother was beaming. “I want to go there sometime.”

“To the ranch?”

“Yes. Maybe I could stay overnight.”

Willow swallowed back the lump forming in her throat. One place she could never take her mother would be the ranch. Another fun fact she had yet to face: When her mother was released from parole, she’d need to find another place for her to live.

The catch-22 kept her up at nights. She longed for her mother to be free from the constant scrutiny of her parole officer, and yet … she’d yet to save enough for her to live as well as she was now.

The soft whiffle of her mother’s snoring gave her some relief from talking more about the future. For the next twenty minutes, Willow sat in a nearby chair, holding her hand as she drifted in and out of sleep. In her moments of wakefulness, her mother’s mind appeared sharp, showing little sign of the confusion that had brought her here, nor the trouble brought on by her brother.

It was both hopeful and perplexing. With no sign of waking, Willow stood. Then she bent forward, kissed her mother on her forehead, and whispered a promise to return soon.

* * *

Chance hopped out of the truck and came around to open the door for her. “Everything go okay?”

She nodded. “They’ve all seen his picture, and the authorities have been notified.” She climbed inside the cabin and waited for Chance to join her. “Mom surprised me. She was in pretty good shape today, even a little chatty.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Willow gave a half-smile, trying not to think about the new thought her mother had left her with, not to mention Margie’s cryptic warning.

Chance put the truck in reverse, drove past a dusty old sedan parked near the edge of the lot, then eased them back onto the road.

“By the way,” he said, “I saw no sign of the guy.”

“I’m so glad.”

“Anything else happen?”

Willow shrugged slowly. “I mean, just the usual. They told me she’s doing well, but if there are more outbursts like the other day …”

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