Page 22 of The Lost Book of First Loves

Loretta smiled with a trace of sadness. “My boy did tend to bring home strays, didn’t he?”

Their house had always been filled with struggling writers and artists, trying to find their way in the world.

“Yes. You can think of Juniper Connelly as one more stray.”

“This is your home. You can bring anybody to stay here that you want, honey.”

“I hear a bigbutin your voice.”

Loretta frowned. “But I still don’t understand why you invitedher, even if you did save her life. From everything you said, I didn’t get the impression you loved your internship working with her.”

That was definitely true. Thank heavens she didn’t have to go through that again.

“It’s not for long. Only two or three weeks while she rests and recovers. Before we know it, she’ll be heading back to Seattle and will forget all about us and The Painted Sky.”

She truly hoped that wasn’t the case, though she was fully aware that June might not want a relationship with her at all when she found out they were half sisters.

“We’ll make her as comfortable as we can during that time, then.”

“Thanks, Grandma.”

She hugged her grandmother again, feeling so very grateful for Loretta. After Sarah Wells died, Loretta had quit her job, packed up her whole life in Wisconsin and had moved here to help her only son with his daughter.

She had been tough and loving and always there for her with supportive words and a warm embrace.

Alison hated keeping secrets from her but she reminded herself that for now she didn’t have any other choice.

Chapter 10

Juniper

If she had been looking for quiet and solitude when she came to Wyoming, the cacophony that greeted the break of day her first morning in the cabin would have quickly disabused her of the notion.

June sat before dawn on the porch of Carson Wells’s writing cabin, listening to the sounds of the mountain waking up. Somewhere in the distance, a rooster crowed, a horse whinnied and a couple of dogs barked.

Closer to her temporary home, she heard the sharp piercing cry of a hawk circling above the trees, joined by the chittering of squirrels and the morning song of dozens of birds flitting through the treetops.

It was worlds away from the city sounds she was used to.

Steam swirled up from her tea into the cool morning air that smelled sweet and clean.

She hadn’t slept well the night before. She didn’t know if it was from the unfamiliar surroundings or from the low edge of anxiety that seemed to simmer just below her skin.

Her entire world seemedwrong, somehow, and she wasn’t doing a good job of adjusting to the changes.

She lifted her face to the sun slanting in from the treetops.

She would have loved a big cup of coffee. Or two or three. She had never been much of a breakfast eater, preferring coffee and the occasional piece of toast. Her doctor had warned her against too much caffeine, though, and she couldn’t have toast without a smear of butter, which her doctor had also warned against.

The kitchen had been stocked with all kinds of food: fruit, vegetables and other heart-healthy options. With all the restrictions Dr. Singh had given her, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to eat.

Good thing she didn’t have much of an appetite.

She wanted to bury her head in the sand and forget about everything. It would be so much easier if she could pretend her cardiac arrest had never happened.

She didn’t have that luxury, though. Her life had changed, whether she liked it or not. She would have to figure out how to go on from here.

The mountains beyond the cabin stretched toward the sky, rugged yet somehow comforting, too. She had a sudden fierce longing to explore them, to discover all the canyons and peaks and plateaus of the terrain that Carson Wells had described in his writings with such evocative grace.

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