“Howdy Stranger,” she cooed. Lester whistled, but Cotton ruffled her feathers and harrumphed away. “Trust me, I get it, girl.” Abby touched a fingertip kiss to the slender bars. “Hey, Abbs.” Karla waved, her face filled with understanding sympathy. But she only knew half the story today. Abby cemented her shallow smile into place, un-slumped her shoulders, and wished the blended aromas of savory chicken soup, sweet apple pie, and strong coffee were remotely enticing. She hadn’t come in to eat; she’d come to avoid going home. To hide out. Fortunately, in the mid-afternoon lull, only the predictably unremarkable Sisters, on their daily visit, occupied the café. “You look beat.” Karla’s eyes offered empathy, and she led Abby to her booth. A cup brimming with coffee/furniture-stripper appeared on the table. “Sit. I’ll be right back. The last pie is due out of the oven.” She waggled her slender brows.
What do You think about The Rancher And The Rock Star?
