Seventeen-year-old Chloe Matthews is done with guys, done with her ex, and done with the cowboys of the Grand Teton Mountains. She refuses to get hurt again.
All that matters now are the horses. Every horse Chloe helps is another piece of herself pu...
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All I had to do was get out of my house undetected. Gabi was waiting for me. We were moving Penny at midnight. I tiptoed out of my bedroom and down the hall, but there was rustling from the kitchen and the light was on.
"Yes," Mom said into the phone. Bills were spread out on the table in front of her. "I'll send the payment tomorrow." A pause. "Thank you, sir." She hung up and sighed.
Mom had never gotten bill collector calls in Temecula. Now she was stuck in Wyoming worrying about money. Because of me.
"Mom." My voice cracked as I sank into the chair next to her. "I get paid Friday. I'm giving it all to you."
She looked up and smiled, but her eyes were tired. "No. That money is yours, sweetie."
"I want to." I motioned to the bills. "You gave up your job, your friends, your home." The guilt made my tongue thick. "You don't have to do everything by yourself."
"Chloe." She touched my hand. "Don't you know how glad I am that we moved?"
I tilted my head. She was just trying to make me feel better.
"I was so bored with my job. I was ready for a change." She gestured to the table. "This is just a bump in the road. Things are going to work out." She gave my hand a little squeeze. "I love it here. I love the challenge of running the café, this beautiful place, all the new possibilities."
"Really?" I really wanted to believe her.
"Yes." She held my gaze. "Really."
I slumped down in the chair. "I hope it wasn't all for nothing."
"I'm going to make sure it wasn't," she said. "The sheriff's been giving me self-defense lessons."
"What?" That didn't sound like my mom. At all. Wow. She and the sheriff were spending time together. Tara thought there was something going on, but I couldn't even go there.
My eyes widened. "Is he teaching you how to shoot?"
"Maybe." She studied the bill in front of her.
"That's what I need."
"No, you don't."
"Lame, Mom. All the kids here know how to shoot. It's like a birthright or something."
"Handling a gun comes with huge responsibility." She started gathering the bills. "There are laws, techniques, and lots of training."
"I'll do it. Anything. I need to know how to defend myself."
Mom shook her head again.
"Mom. Please." I grabbed her arm. "I'm tired of being a victim."
"I'm not ready to let you do that."
"You think I'm too fragile." I jumped out of my chair. "That I'm not mentally stable enough to handle it."
"That's not what I said, and you know that's not what I mean." She stood up. "And I am done talking about this."
