The Virile Cowboy

Chapter 1

© 2022 by Sara Leanne Adams

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Warning: this book contains sexual content not suitable for persons under 18 years of age.

This is a three-part excerpt. The remainder of the book can be found on Inkitt.

https://www.inkitt.com/stories/romance/893029

Jillian

I stared out the window at the flat, barren landscape between Red Deer and Rocky Mountain House. The fields were covered in a light dusting of snow, the trees still naked from a long Alberta winter.

I smiled sadly when the familiar wooden sign came into view, welcoming visitors to my cozy hometown, nestled east of the Rocky Mountains. You could just barely make out the peaks on a clear day.

The main drag had changed a lot in the twenty years since I left. I shook my head as I passed a Tim Hortons, a Boston Pizza, and hotels that weren't there the last time I was home, two years before.

I pulled into the driveway, my tires crunching on the gravel. A wave of sadness hit me like a tsunami.

Her red 1979 Volkswagen Beetle Convertible was still parked in the driveway. I hated that car. She bought it brand new and had black polka dots painted on it to make it look like a ladybug. It was embarrassing to ride in. Especially for an introverted teenager, who preferred to hide in the shadows.

Everybody knew when Dot Jennings was at the grocery store, or anywhere else in town. I never got my driver's licence until I left home, because I wouldn't be caught dead driving that car.

"Oh, Grams," I whispered, wiping away my tears with the back of my hand. "I'm so sorry I gave you such a hard time about your car."

I took a deep breath before opening the door and climbing out of my F-Pace. My Jaguar SUV looked out of place in the neighbourhood I grew up in.

Most of the houses on the street were older bungalows, with faded siding and plastic on the windows to keep the heat in. Many of my Grandma's neighbours had lived there for years. Hardworking Canadians, struggling to get by. But they always seemed happy. Just like my Gram. They were thankful for what they had, and they didn't place a lot of value on material things.

I opened the hatch and reached for the handle of my suitcase.

"Jilly!"

I glanced to my right at the woman waddling across the lawn with a toddler on her hip. My childhood best friend, Deanne Simpson, still lived next door. Except she was Deanne Dunkley now. She married her high school sweetheart. They lived with her parents until they passed away a few years back. I'd lost track of how many kids she had. Her husband worked on the pipeline, so he was away a lot.

"Deanne! You're pregnant!"

"Oh yeah," she laughed with a shrug.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought I mentioned it in a text."

I smiled at my old friend. She was dressed in faded overalls, her dye job clearly out of a box. Her minivan was missing its hubcaps, and there was a massive dent in the bumper. But her wide smile reached her eyes. Deanne was happy.