Page 1 of The Devil in Blue Jeans
Prologue
“Charly, if you take another step up this mountain, I will shove you over the edge.”
Halfway up the Absaroka Mountains, Charly Henwood glanced over her shoulder. Her best friend, Aubrey Hale’s blue eyes glared in warning as she panted heavily, sweat dampening her shiny blond hair.
“We’re not even at the top yet,” Charly pointed out. “Just take a few breaths and we’ll be done soon.”
“I hate you,” Aubrey groaned.
Charly fought her laughter as she glanced to the third member of their trio, Willow Quinn. She shifted the large backpack around her shoulders with her usual sweet smile in place and adjusted her messy side braid of strawberry blond hair, her twinkling green eyes gleamed subtly. “Oh, stop whining,” Willow said to Aubrey. “It’s not so bad.”
“Liar,” came the muttered reply from behind Charly.
Charly laughed as two backpackers walked by looking ready to call it quits.
Willow raised her arm in encouragement. “You’re almost there,” she shouted.
“That’s another lie,” Aubrey said, scoffing.
After the couple smiled and thanked Willow, she turned back to Aubrey and said, “That’s not lying. That’s cheering people on.”
Aubrey grumbled something incoherent beneath her breath, and Charly just shook her head, chuckling to herself as they continued. Here were her two closest friends since kindergarten—Willow was like sunshine while Aubrey was always its shadow. They’d experienced it all together while growing up with their families in Ann Arbor, Michigan—joyful moments, sad moments and everything in between.
Five minutes later, Aubrey barked out a curse. “That’s it. I’m done.” She dropped her backpack to the ground and sank onto it. “I wanted to explore Rome, soak up some culture and history, but instead we ended up here in Montana, on this stupid mountain.”
Charly took in the view, realizing they were close enough to where she needed to get them. She shrugged off her backpack, not really blaming Aubrey for her less-than-thrilled mood. Aubrey wasn’t a hiker. The trip had been a graduation present to themselves before they started their adult lives and moved away from each other in hopes of catching their big dreams.
Aubrey pulled out her water bottle, taking a big drink before speaking again. “So, we’ve hiked through forests, camped under the stars and seen erupting geysers and hot springs. Explain to me why this place beats Rome.”
Charly smiled as she sat down on her backpack next to Aubrey, then pointed down at the valley below them. More importantly, the small town. “We’re here forthat.” Timber Falls was north of Yellowstone National Park, along the Yellowstone River, with a population of a little over seven thousand. Nineteenth-century brick buildings lined the two-lane street, which housed art galleries, bookstores and boutiques that displayed an Old Wild West ambience amid homestyle eateries, with a stunning view of the mountain range at the end of the road.
She glanced to her friends. “Do you remember the pact we made when we were thirteen?”
Willow scanned the town below before scrunching her nose. “What are you talking about?”
“This,” Charly said, pulling a piece of paper from her pocket. She unfolded it, revealing a drawing that was identical to the small town nestled in the valley they were overlooking. “When I was researching different wineries and breweries in search of the best booze on the market, I found this place.” Timber Falls was known as a filming spot for many movies and brought in artists and writers in droves. Now Charly understood why. There was something magical about this place. Something far past beautiful. A pulsating energy that was as warm and welcoming as it was peaceful. “When I saw it, I almost fell out of my chair.”
Aubrey accepted the paper, her gaze glued to the page. “The similarity is a bit eerie.”
“Right?” Charly agreed. None of them were particularly talented artists, but the picture created the unmistakable impression of a Main Street with an Old West vibe and mountains at the end of it. They used to fantasize about staying together forever in this small town they’d created, just the three of them, and falling in love with rugged cowboys.
“You kept this drawing all this time?” Willow asked as Aubrey returned the paper to Charly.
Charly nodded. “I found it when I was packing.” They all lived together in a small apartment in Berkeley while she and Willow attended the University of California together and Aubrey attended the Culinary Institute of America. But their lease was up, and their lives were about to change forever.
“Incredible,” Aubrey said.
Charly agreed with a nod. “After I found it, I got to thinking. When we leave here, we’re all going our separate ways.” She looked to Willow. “You’re off to Portland for your new fancy marketing job.” Her gaze fell to Aubrey. “You’re heading to Atlanta working beneath Chef Bisset. And I’m moving to Phoenix with Marcel to open the nightclub.” She’d met Marcel in her freshman year in a philanthropy course. He’d swept her right off her feet, and even though it took another two years for them to get serious, she knew he was her one and only. “The world is our oyster now, but I don’t want us to forget what we once dreamed of having together.”
Aubrey tilted her head, and the flush of her cheeks faded away gradually. “What exactly are you proposing?”
Charly flashed them a smile. “I’m suggesting that we come up with a contingency plan—just in case the plans we have don’t work out.”
Willow scrunched her nose in confusion. “I still don’t get it.”
Charly gestured to the paper. “When I found the drawing, and then discovered this town so randomly, I figured it had to be a sign. So, that’s why I brought us here.” After they’d hiked out of Yellowstone Park, they had lunch in town. Sitting outside on the patio of a hundred-and-twenty-year-old restaurant, she loved everything Timber Falls had to offer with all its rustic heritage. They had spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the two-laned Main Street, before setting out on their final hike up the mountains. “I wanted to see if this town was as magical as I was hoping it’d be—”
“And it was,” Willow interjected softly.
