Read Online Her Cowboy Soldier by Cindi Myers - Free Book Online Page A

and you’ll write a great story. End of discussion.” Not waiting for her answer, he turned and strode back to his office.
    Amy stared after him, frustration choking off any further words of protest. She couldn’t do anything about Ed—he was her boss and if he wanted her to go to the prom, she’d have to go to the prom. But Charla was her friend. She wasn’t supposed to be conspiring behind Amy’s back, and Amy could definitely do something about that.
    In Hartland, three people waiting in line at a business constituted a rush. That was the number of patrons crowded around the front counter at Cookies and Cups when Amy jerked open the door, setting the string of sleigh bells attached to the doorknob jangling.
    “Hey, Amy!” Charla waved from her post in front of the espresso machine. “Be with you in a sec.”
    In closer to five minutes, Charla had distributed coffee orders to the waiting patrons and Amy approached the front counter. “We need to talk,” she said.
    “Uh-oh.” Charla set aside the carafe in her hand. “The prom, right?”
    “Yes, the prom. Ed said you talked him into ‘volunteering’ me as a chaperone. How could you go behind my back like that?”
    “That is not what happened.” Charla moved from behind the counter and took Amy’s arm and led her to a table in the corner, away from the other customers. “I went into the office to see if Ed would run a free ad asking for volunteers to chaperone. He’s the one who brought up your name—not me.”
    “But you didn’t bother to mention I’d already turned you down.”
    “Wrong. I told him you weren’t interested and he’d need to find someone else. But you know Ed—once he has an idea in his head, he won’t listen to anyone.”
    “You’re right.” She slumped in her chair, feeling worse than ever. “And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have accused you.”
    “It’s okay.” Charla patted her shoulder. “I’d have thought the same thing. And at least you rushed over to confront me, instead of avoiding me and holding a grudge.”
    “I know everyone thinks I’m being silly, not wanting to do this. I just...since Brent died, I haven’t felt much like celebrating or socializing.”
    “Maybe this is a good start. Nonthreatening. Low-key. And you don’t have to think of it as celebrating or socializing. You’re working.”
    “Yes, but...” She ran her thumb along the metal rim of the tabletop. She’d already falsely accused her friend of betraying her; she owed Charla the truth. “Josh will be there, and every time we see each other things are so awkward.”
    Charla tilted her head to one side, curious and alert. “Why is that, do you think?”
    “He’s defensive because of the story I wrote about him.”
    “And how do you feel about him?”
    “You sound like a therapist or something.” In other circumstances, Amy might have been amused by the idea.
    “What are friends for?” Charla’s gaze remained fixed on her, steady and encouraging.
    “He makes me uncomfortable,” Amy said. Josh had a way of stirring up emotions, good and bad.
    “Because of his missing hand?”
    “That’s part of it—not because of the hand but because—well, it’s just one more reminder of Brent.” Of the things she and Brent would never be able to do. Of that last, unresolved argument they’d had. Of second chances not taken and dreams unfulfilled. “I know it doesn’t make sense.”
    “Grief doesn’t have to make sense. After my mother died, I couldn’t eat ice cream anymore. Not for two years. It was her favorite food in the world, and about the only thing she could choke down at the end.” She patted Amy’s arm. “I wish I knew how to help. But I do know something that will make you feel better.”
    “One of your mochas?”
    “That, too. But I was thinking of a shopping trip to Junction with me. After all, you have to find a dress for the prom, right?”
    “I could wear something from my closet.”
    “No, you can’t. This