Free Welcome to Paradise by Carol Grace Page B

see the difference in the place, but she did. She was looking forward to going to town tonight. Hearing the music. Eating something she hadn't cooked on a camp stove—like a steak from the Bar Z Ranch. Meeting some new people. Seeing some she already knew.
    All right, so she was looking forward to seeing Zeb. She'd missed him these past few days. He was amusing and entertaining. She never knew what he'd do or say next. But she couldn't expect him to come by every evening and entertain her. That's why she was looking forward to tonight After a hot soak and a change of clothes, she hiked out by the same trail she'd come in by. Was it only five days ago? It seemed like eons. The trail was a little shorter, maybe because it was all downhill. She didn't want to think about climbing back up to the springs later that night. Even with her flashlight it wouldn't be a picnic. Still, she had to go out. She had cabin fever.
    She never had understood what Zeb meant about the people in Powderkeg. If anything, they were friendlier than ever. Wilma waved to her from the window of the dry-goods store.
    “Looks like you could use a good pair of hiking boots,” she said when Chloe stopped to say hello.
    “That's right,” Chloe said, feeling a new blister on her heel. “It's a long walk out of the property to my car.”
    “Thought you'd be hitching a ride from Zeb,” Wilma said pulling some boxes down from a shelf.
    “Me? Oh, no. I...I hardly know him. Haven't seen him for days, have you?” Now why did she have to ask that? As if she cared.
    “Saw his truck go by just a few minutes ago. In the direction of the bar. Getting ready for tonight I expect. You're staying for the food and the music, aren't you? Everybody who's anybody will be there. That includes you,” Wilma said kindly, holding out a lightweight hiking boot for Chloe's inspection.
    Chloe flushed with pleasure. After Zeb's warnings, she was doubly pleased to be included in the category of everybody-who's-anybody. Wilma made her feel almost like she belonged. She bought two pairs of boots, some new stonewashed jeans, T-shirts, a hat and a pair of khaki shorts. All the while, she pictured the new business she'd bring to Wilma when she got her spa going. She'd bring her guests here and they'd go wild with the leather belts, cotton scarves and checkered shirts. After she stashed her purchases in the trunk of her car, she ambled down Main Street, looking in windows at tractors, tools and other heavy equipment
    It was way too soon to go to the bar, but she was happy to stroll along in her new boots, her blister covered with new moleskin.
    To her surprise, she came across a diner two blocks down the street. Where had that come from? Hadn't she asked about a place like this ? She was beginning to wonder if anything Zeb Bowie said was true—including the story of his broken engagement. It could have been a line to gain her sympathy, though why he'd want that she didn't know.
    Like the bar, the place was right out of a Western movie, with a long Formica counter, checkered tablecloths, flowered curtains at the windows and the smell of coffee in the air. Chloe took a stool at the counter and looked around at the other late-afternoon customers—a solitary cowboy at the end of the counter and a couple at a table in the back—until the waitress approached with a green order pad in her hand.
    “What'll you have, hon?” she asked.
    “Coffee and a piece of that pie. Have you been here long?”
    “Who, me?”
    “I mean the diner.”
    “Only about thirty years.”
    “I see,” Chloe said, seething inwardly. But there was no coffee shop in town, according to Zeb Bowie.
    When the waitress brought her order, Chloe swallowed her anger and allowed herself to admire the towering meringue on the lemon pie. So much so she almost didn't notice the two men outside the window until the waitress waved to them. Her heart lurched. Even though she knew he was in town, she wasn't prepared to see Zeb