Page 1 of The Cowboy's Country Charm

Chapter 1

“You want me to do what?” Rusty Russell shook his head at his youngest sister, Junie, a lock of auburn hair falling over his brow. He wasn’t used to longer hair after the air force buzz cuts, but that was all the more reason he was determined to grow it out. Not super long, just enough so someone would notice he at least had hair. “If Parker is sick, let me stay with him and you go meet with this event planner.” That was the sensible thing.

His sister pulled off her work apron and hung it up on the hook by the back door of the small shop. Of the three siblings, Junie was the only one with blond hair, like their mother, and the only one of average height. He, along with his middle sister, Lexi, had their father’s reddish-auburn hair, and Rusty had surpassed his father’s six-two height during his senior year of high school. But they all had blue eyes, and there was definitely a family resemblance in the prominent cheekbones and heart-shaped face they all bore.

The long worktable in the back of Junie’s floral shop was strewn with hacked-off flower stems, fading petals, and cast-off sprigs of leaves as the mingled fragrance of multiple flower types scented the room.

Junie looked pained. “His nursery school teacher said Parker is asking for me. When he’s sick, he always wants me with him. And she said he has a fever. I wouldn’t feel right leaving him.”

“What about Mom? Make use of the fact she’s up here now.” His parents were back in Gillette—from New Mexico, where they’d retired—precisely to spend more time with Parker during the summer months.

“Mom and Dad are having lunch with some friends in Casper today.” Junie reached across the worktable and touched his arm. “This event planner said she’s only available today. If you can take this meeting for me, I have Sandy, the high school girl whose been helping me, coming in to mind the shop. Please.”

He took a step back and peeked through the doorway into the front of the retail space, crammed with flowers of all shapes, sizes, and colors sitting in vases, in bowls, tucked in refrigerators. How could he say no? Especially since he had nothing better to do. Still…

“I don’t know anything about flowers, Junie. When I said I’d help out during these summer months, I was thinking more of making deliveries.” At thirty years old, he was a little long in the tooth to be a delivery boy. But after leaving the air force in January, finishing up some college credits this past semester, and applying for a civil service position, he did have time on his hands while he waited to hear about his acceptance into the police academy.

“All you have to do is show her my portfolio, contained in this notebook.” She thumped the binder on the table. “This way she can see my work. Tell her she can keep the portfolio and I’ll phone her tomorrow to follow up on pricing. Please, Rusty. For your little sister. For Parker.”

He heaved a sigh. He could never refuse either of his sisters. Or his little nephew. He grabbed the binder off the table and tucked it under his arm in a sign of surrender.

Junie winked. “And I hear she’s single, so who knows.”

Since he’d gotten out of the air force, his sisters had been trying to fix him up. Trouble was, all the women he met were looking for a commitment, and he wasn’t a candidate for a happily ever after. Never would be. “How do you know she’s single?”

She tilted her chin up. “Social media.”

Of course. Everyone’s life was chronicled on the Web. He would probably regret this. Nothing could come of it anyway. “You owe me a home-cooked meal.”

“Isn’t Lexi having the family over tonight?”

Lexi had married the rancher next door to their former family ranch.

“Never enough home-cooked meals when you’re a bachelor.”

“You’ve got Mom and Dad staying at the house for the summer. You hardly need my cooking.”

“Well, you owe me one once they leave.”

“For sure.” She leaned over the table, stood on tippy-toes, and kissed his cheek. “Rusty to the rescue.”

He smiled. That was what his air force buddies used to say.

***

Kristy set her phone down just as the buzzer for the office door sounded. She checked her watch. Flowers by June was on time at least. She pressed the buzzer, rose, and placed a check mark next to a name on the copious to-do list that rested on her desk. Lisa Wilson, whom the phone call had been from, had chosen An Affair to Remember as her day-of wedding coordinator. It wasn’t as big a job as if the bride had booked with them from the outset, but at least it would be something. The company’s first Gillette contract since Marcia Graham, Kristy’s boss and the owner of An Affair to Remember, had snagged the largest event in this town—its charitable foundation gala. As Gillette was far afield from the company’s headquarters in Denver as well as the Cheyenne office, which Kristy usually worked out of, taking on the gala had necessitated opening a new office in Gillette, at least temporarily.

The new office could become permanent, along with Kristy’s long-awaited promotion to manager, if Kristy could secure more business in the area. Marcia had also dangled a 10 percent stake in the business if Kristy was successful.

Kristy gulped air into her lungs as if that would relieve the pressure she felt. Not only for her own ambitions, but she’d convinced her talented cousin, Ariel, to join the firm as the event designer for the Gillette location. But it all hinged on a triumphant gala and substantial new business. Despite several years working under Marcia’s tutelage, Kristy couldn’t shake the fear that she wasn’t ready for the responsibility.

She’d read about imposter syndrome, and she had it bad. Courtesy of a father who thought he knew best. About everything. Including Kristy’s career path.

She stepped toward the door. A key element for meeting Marcia’s goals for the office was to secure quality local vendors, especially for the gala. Hence the meeting with Flowers by June.

Kristy opened the door to the waiting area and walked out, expecting to meet the blond-haired, blue-eyed woman whose profile picture was on the Flowers by June website. Instead, a red-haired cowboy had folded his considerable height onto the two-cushion waiting room sofa. He was holding a white cowboy hat between his jean-clad legs, and a large notebook lay beside him on the seat.

What was a good-looking hunk of a cowboy doing in her waiting room? “May I help you?” Maybe he’d mistaken the An Affair to Remember sign on the door for something else entirely and had wandered in by mistake.

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