A Cowboy At Heart. Angel Smits
“I’m so sorry, dear. That’s awful. I know you really liked that job.”
“I did.” Sadness swept through her. “I don’t know what I’ll do now.”
“Everything will be fine. You’ll get another job quick. I’m sure of it. You can always go back to Dusty’s.”
No way. No way was she returning to her old job. Not just because Jack was there, though that was part of it. It would mean admitting defeat. She might be down, but she wasn’t out.
“I’ll find something,” she declared.
“That’s my girl. I’m sure you’ll land something better.”
“I hope so. Thanks, Mom.” Her mother always had a way of making things seem much better than they really were.
“Lisa, the reason I called...” Her mother took a deep breath. “Have you talked to your grandfather lately?”
“Uh, no.” That was a bit out of left field. “Should I have?”
“No. But I haven’t heard from him and I’m a bit worried. I usually call him every Tuesday, but this week he didn’t answer, and he hasn’t phoned me back.”
“Do you think there’s something wrong?”
“I hope not. I’m sure Hap or the sheriff would get in touch with me if something had happened. No, I’m afraid he’s up to something and you know how that goes.”
She did. Everyone did. Grandpa was the king of schemes. He’d always been a dreamer. He’d been one of her biggest champions, encouraging her to follow her own dreams. Her mother and grandmother had talked of all the ideas he’d had over the years, few of which Grandma had ever let come to fruition.
“Maybe—”
“Maybe what?” Somehow, Lisa didn’t think this was a good maybe.
“Now that you’re unemployed for a bit, maybe you could take a trip up to Telluride and check on him.”
“Mom, I don’t have the time—”
“For your family?” There was an edge to Mom’s voice that made Lisa remember “the look” her mother had given her whenever she’d done something naughty. “I’d go, but you know your father and I are leaving for the cruise this week. Your sister can’t go because the kids have school, and your brother is working.”
Lisa sighed. Remind me to get a family and a job soon. “I’ll check on Grandpa,” she agreed, but not without a heavy sigh. The nagging bit of worry was only part of the reason she agreed.
“Oh, thank you, dear. You know I’d do it myself if I really thought it was a serious problem.” And she would. Mom was a great mother and a good daughter. Family was important to her.
As long as the dreams weren’t too big.
LISA SLIPPED HER PHONE back into her purse just as Trudy came out the front door. As Lisa had, she carried a battered box of belongings—the contents of her desk crammed into a single square foot of space. Her purse, the suitcase version, hung off her shoulder. Where was her coat? Did she even have one?
The older woman looked as lost as Lisa felt. Lisa couldn’t let her leave without a decent goodbye.
Despite the cold wind, Lisa climbed out of her finally warm car and hurried over to where Trudy struggled to heft the box into her trunk. A faded brown coat nestled on the floor of the trunk.
“Let me help.” The wind tried to rip her words away, but Trudy’s nod told Lisa she’d heard. Together, they managed to get the box settled in the trunk.
The older woman forced a smile through her slowly freezing tears. “Thanks, hon. I’m just so—”
“I know.” She got Trudy’s arms into her coat and helped her zip it up. “Where are you going now?”
Trudy shrugged and looked out over the nearly empty parking lot. Marco’s car was the only other one left. “I guess...home.”
“So, you do have one.” Lisa joked, trying to make the woman smile. It almost worked. “How about I buy you a coffee?” She pulled her own coat closer around her. “I’m—I’m not ready to be alone yet.”
Trudy appeared relieved. “Me, either. But I’ll buy my own. We’re both going to be without a paycheck soon.”
“Come on.” Lisa headed to her car. “I’ll drive.”
Trudy shook her head. “I’ll take my car.” She looked back over her shoulder. “I don’t want to come back here to get it.”
“I understand.” Lisa headed to her car and they each drove to the coffee shop down the street. Lisa pulled into her usual spot, her eyes taking in the familiar facade. How many times had she come here on break or for lunch? This might be her last visit. Lisa blinked her eyes. It wouldn’t do any good to sob in her coffee.
Trudy pulled up beside her, and they braved the weather again to step into the warm, coffee-scented café. It was busy—the whirr of the coffee machines, the soft conversations and the piped-in music filled the air around them. So familiar.
Trudy squared her shoulders and shoved the gigantic purse up more firmly on her shoulder. “I don’t know about you,” she looked sideways at Lisa, “but I’m going to just pretend this is my lunch break.”
“Denial sounds like a lovely plan.” Lisa nodded and followed Trudy to one of the back booths. It might be a long lunch break today.
“Hey, ladies.” Mindy, the young waitress who worked here most days, carried the coffee carafe to the table with a smile. “The usual?” she asked Trudy.
“I—I’m not sure yet.”
Mindy’s smile faded. “Are you okay?”
Trudy’s eyes filled with tears, and Lisa put her hand over Trudy’s. She looked up at Mindy. “Yes, the usual for Trudy. And I’ll take...” She glanced at the menu in front of her. “I’ll take a number three.” It was a big meal but why not? She had to eat today. They both did.
“Sure.” Mindy nodded. “I’ll get those started.” She left and headed to the kitchen.
“I’m sorry,” Trudy whispered. “I’m being silly. It’s not as if I can’t afford to retire or take some time off.”
That didn’t surprise Lisa. Trudy worked constantly. When did she have time to spend any of the money Marco had paid her? And he’d paid her well.
“But?” she prompted.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself.” She shrugged. “Work is all I have. My kids have scattered around the country. My husband is gone. I’m—” Trudy picked up her napkin and wiped her eyes. “I’m all alone.”
That explained why Trudy was always at work. “No, you’re not. You’ve got me.”
“Thank you, dear, you’re sweet, but you have your own life. You have things to do. I’m sure you’ll get another job soon.”
Mindy appeared just then, setting tall ice waters in front of them. Once she left again, Trudy tried to smile at Lisa.
“You’ll be busy job hunting yourself,” Lisa pointed out.
“I doubt I’ll have much luck. Few companies want to hire someone over fifty, much less over sixty.”
“There’s a lot to be said for experience.”
“I agree. But they don’t always think like we do.”
Trudy’s