“And that, my dear, is the secret to a long-lasting relationship,” Dolly said. “Harold was my husband for thirty-nine years, but he was my best friend for forty-five.”
Harold passed away a year ago, and Alice could see the loneliness in Dolly’s eyes. What if all of the irritating little pop-ins weren’t really to check on the cat? What if Dolly was really looking for human companionship?
Alice’s phone chimed with an email notification. She glanced at it and oh! It was from the Austin Public Library. She opened it, right there in front of Dolly.
They wanted to set up an interview! For Friday afternoon!
Her mind raced. What did she have going on this Friday? It was rude to stare at her phone in front of Dolly, but she couldn’t help it. Her calendar showed a meeting in the morning, but Janie could handle everything in the afternoon . . .
“Is everything okay?” Dolly asked.
Alice looked up. “Yes. Everything’s fine. It’s just an email.” She couldn’t tell Dolly about the interview. The rumor mill would be cranking before she was even done with her run. “It’s work related.” That was technically true.
“No wonder we have the best library in Texas. Our librarian never stops working.”
Alice’s phone, which she was still staring at, suddenly lit up with a call. It was Beau! She didn’t want to answer it in front of Dolly.
“Well, I’ve got to run,” she said as Gaston pulled on the leash. “Literally.”
“Okay,” Dolly said. “But I wanted to tell you that there’s a hairless cat conference next month. I thought maybe we could go together. And also, I ordered a pirate ship for Sultana.”
“A pirate ship?”
“It’s cardboard. Four feet long! She’ll love it.”
“Where will I put a four-foot pirate ship? I might have to get rid of my couch.”
“It comes with a little pirate hat.”
The phone stopped ringing. Dang it.
Dolly clipped a pink rose and handed it to Alice. “Enjoy your run. We’ll talk pirate ships when you get back.”
Soon, Alice was at the end of the block, drenched in sweat with a cramp in her side, dying to see if Beau had left a voice mail. “Hold on,” she said to Gaston, who’d apparently assumed they’d go farther than a block (he was wrong about that).
Yes! Beau had left a voice mail. She put the phone to her ear, and as soon as she heard his voice—Hey, Allie Cat—she broke out in goose bumps, despite the humid heat.
I’m going to be hauling cattle all week, so I can’t get together for tutoring. But I promise to keep working on my own. And speaking of getting together . . . I had a great time last night. It was the best pasture party I’ve ever been to.
There was a bit of silence, and Alice thought maybe that was all he was going to say. But then:
I hope you had fun, too. So . . .
Another stretch of silence.
I guess I’ll see you soon. And I, um . . . I have a few more ideas for the bucket list.
Alice’s heart was pounding. Had she really made out with Beau Montgomery? Did she really have a job interview in Austin? And what the heck did Beau want to add to her bucket list? Holy guacamole, she might have to amend the contract.
Chapter
Twenty
Alice had been super busy all week, but not nearly as busy as Beau, who’d been driving back and forth to the Rockin’ H Ranch, which the Kowalskis had bought.
They hadn’t seen each other in several days, but they’d texted. Which was absolutely wonderful because it was fun, but it also meant Beau was reading and writing. Their texts were silly stuff mostly; outrageous links and memes suggesting things to add to her bucket list.
Spend the night in an ice cave!
I hear roach milk is the new superfood!
Glamping in a yurt!
Nothing remotely sexy or flirtatious had been exchanged, and Alice was reminded that what they’d done in the bed of Beau’s pickup was probably not all that out of the ordinary for Beau. Maybe when he’d suggested adding things to her bucket list, he really had been thinking of yurt glamping.
This morning, he’d texted to cancel their tutoring session tonight. Bryce’s last night in town. Going out with the boys.
She’d been disappointed, but she’d texted back that she understood, because she did. And then Beau had sent a picture captioned Blast from the Past!
It was a photo of her sitting on the Montgomerys’ front porch. She looked about fourteen—braces, glasses, confused facial expression—holding a book. She vaguely remembered the boys pestering her with a camera that afternoon. Ugh. Why had Beau sent that? She’d responded, Yikes. How do you even have this?
Beau hadn’t answered. In fact, he hadn’t texted since. Which was fine, because she’d had her job interview today, and she was certain she’d blown it. She’d been anxious and awkward and weird—more so than usual. There was no way she’d get the position.
It sure was a gorgeous library, though. After the interview was over, the director had given her a tour and introduced her to a few people. There was someone to do every job that Alice typically did. They’d had a children’s librarian, a resource librarian, a social media manager, and a program director, among others. It seemed like the only tasks left for her to do were the things she didn’t enjoy all that much. Mountains of paperwork. Reports. Preparing for board meetings.
But still. If by some miracle they offered it to her, she’d be an idiot to turn it down, right?
She went into the kitchen with the intention of making tea and got down a wineglass instead. She had several of those tiny bottles of pinot grigio—single serving size—in the fridge. She grabbed one, unscrewed the lid, and poured it into the glass.
She kind of missed the Strawberry Hill.
And Beau’s lips.
Sultana wove in and out of her ankles, purring. Gaston, who was
