Page 1 of The Cowboy and His Beauty
Chapter 1
Sky
Welcome to Walker Lake, Texas!
The sign coming into town looks the same as when I was a kid, although the original was replaced following a storm when I was in high school.
Country, Cowboys, and Community.
Established In 1882
It's comforting to know nothing has changed because everything has changed in the world outside of my small Texas hometown.
But I can't think about that right now. I have to be the perfect peppy daughter coming home for some vacation time to see her parents, not to tell them she failed at being an adult.
Walker Lake is different from most Texas farm towns. The lake separates two distinct classes of people in town. The cowboys on the outskirts of town with big ranches and the wealthy people with fancy lake houses who move here for the small-town charm only an hour outside Amarillo.
My parents own a lake house but my best friends are on the cowboy side of town. Even my high school boyfriend's family were ranch owners. They’re just more down-to-earth.
That's why I could never tell them I quit my job. They wouldn't care that the startup I was working for kept cutting my pay but expecting full-time hours or more. They wouldn't care that the company was getting ready to go under and I got out while I could. All they’ll care about is what it looks like for their daughter to leave a job with the big-time tech guy they loved to brag about. All they’ll care about is what it looks like for their daughter to be without a job. Because all they care about is appearances.
That’s the life I grew up in, but it's not the life I want. I want a much simpler way of life, the way my friends grew up on the ranches outside of town. Getting there is the hard part.
The comfort of home is sadly lacking as I pull up in my parents’ driveway. Yes, this is the house I grew up in, but it never felt like home. I grab my purse and suitcase before checking to ensure I didn't leave anything in my car when I loaded the stuff I was keeping from my Dallas apartment into the storage unit a few towns over. I figure it's close enough to get to if needed, but far enough away that word shouldn't get around town.
"I'm home!" I call as I walk through the front door. I know they’re home, and they know I'm here. Seems they can’t be bothered to greet me.
I set my suitcase on the floor by the stairs and head toward the large family room in the back of the house overlooking the lake. This is where my parents spend most of their time and, of course, this is where I find them.
"Hello, darling. We expected you a few hours ago," my mom says without looking up from her tablet.
"I told you I'd be closer to dinner. I had a few things to take care of before I could get on the road," I tell her as I lean in to kiss my dad on the cheek.
He gives me one of his soft smiles before turning back to whatever he was doing on his phone.
I offer my mom a hug, but her eyes never leave the tablet in her hands. I sigh. What was I expecting?
I turn to stare out the large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lake and try to release all the stress. I can't tell my parents what’s going on yet. They think I'm here on vacation for a week.
I'm hoping to figure things out this week. If not, I can head back to Dallas and stay with my best friend and her husband for a bit. Sarah and Mac have so much space and said I could stay for months if needed. Not that I would. I need a new job before my parents figure out I'm jobless and now homeless.
I've never been more thankful that I was good with money and saved up a several-month emergency fund while I was working. With no rent now, it will last even longer.
"Did you hear me, Sky?" my mom asks.
I turn to face her to see she’s finally set her tablet down and is staring at me. "No, sorry. I was lost in the view. It’s always been relaxing."
"I asked if you could swing by the store and pick up a few things for dinner. There is a list on the counter. Maria won't be back for a few days."
"It’s Martha, Mom. The girl who cooks for you guys is Martha," I remind her.
Mom waves her hand like it doesn't matter. Martha has been with my parents for almost ten years and my mom never gets her name right. It seems my parents decided what they wanted for dinner and that I’ll be cooking it since my mom never learned. Thankfully, Martha taught me, so I could fend for myself when I moved out.
If I weren’t here, they'd go out to eat in Amarillo. My parents aren't dinner people, so eating in Walker Lake wouldn't work for them.
"Yeah, I can do that. Let me take my bag upstairs and get unpacked."
"Sounds good, dear," Mom says, already engrossed in her tablet again.
