The Baby And The Cowboy Seal. Laura Marie Altom

her dirt road met the two-lane highway leading to Eagle Ridge, Macy took a left toward downtown. It had been a while since she’d seen her friend Wendy—at least six months, which was way too long. Macy scolded herself for accusing Wiley of being too prideful when she was no better.

      Since the divorce, she’d hidden herself on the mountain, not speaking to anyone but her parents. For as long as she could remember, her biggest dream had been to be just like her grandparents in living a simple country life, raising kids and livestock and letting the seasons dictate her work schedule as opposed to a time clock. Sure, she had all of that now, but by only half. Without love, she felt empty inside. Rex’s cheating had been an awfully low blow.

      She’d been too naive to have even seen it coming.

      Wendy, her best friend from elementary, middle and high school, had been the one who’d told her to wake up and face reality—her husband wasn’t working twenty-hour shifts at the Boise Pepsi plant. He was working that dirty blonde down at the Lookyloo Tavern, and Macy wasn’t just talking about the woman’s hair color.

      For months after Rex left, Macy had been too embarrassed to stop in at Wendy’s bakery and coffee shop, but having her behavior mirrored by Wiley didn’t show her in a flattering light. Wendy deserved an apology. And after that, she’d hopefully be willing to offer advice over the new dilemma Macy faced with her neighbor.

      On this sunny summer day, Eagle Ridge’s Cherry Street bustled with not only locals, but the tourists staying at the campground and cabins at Blowing Cavern Lake. The old mining town was decked out in all its seasonal finery and with the Fourth of July right around the corner, red, white and blue bunting had been hung from the historic redbrick buildings’ porch rails. A wide wood-plank boardwalk lined both sides of the street and hanging baskets of petunias and lobelia and ivy decorated every lamppost and column.

      With no parking to be had near Wendy’s shop, Macy pulled in front of the candy shop, hopped out, then took Henry’s stroller from the truck bed so she could plop him into the seat. She rolled him closer to the taffy-pulling machine hard at work in the candy store’s front window.

      It seemed like a hundred years ago that she’d stood with Wiley in this very spot. Her grandmother had forced him to hold her hand so she wouldn’t get lost. Now, after smelling booze on his breath twice at odd times of the day, Macy couldn’t shake the feeling that he was the one who was lost—only in a much more serious way than running off to the far end of the boardwalk.

      Henry giggled at the machine’s gyrations.

      “Funny, huh?”

      He clapped.

      She wished the sweet moment could be shared with his father, but then what would that have accomplished? She couldn’t make her ex love their son any more than she’d been able to make him love her. Last she’d heard, he’d run off with his gal pal to Florida, which left Macy feeling broken and not good enough—a bad place to be when she had such a blessing in her son. For him, she needed to be strong. While she would never forget what Rex had done, or understand how he could live with himself for abandoning his only child, she had to at least learn to place the blame for their breakup on his shortcomings rather than her own.

      Past the bookstore and three antique shops and a T-shirt shop that also sold assorted souvenirs and sundries, Macy stood outside Wendy’s pride and joy—The Baked Bean. A year earlier, Macy had helped her friend load the flower boxes and put a fresh coat of yellow paint on the wrought-iron tables and chairs. On a busy day like this, Wendy would have called for emergency help, and Macy would have run right down to make mochas and lattes and double-shot espressos.

      Today, however, she stood on the threshold, unsure about even going in. The inviting smells of coffee and fresh-baked cookies and scones tempted her, but it was Wendy’s surprised gasp upon seeing her and Henry that drove her inside.

      Upbeat bluegrass played over the shop’s sound system, providing the perfect soundtrack for the way Macy hoped the reunion would go.

      Wendy passed a tray of chocolate cupcakes to her part-time helper, Alice, then darted between customers to give Macy a much-needed hug. “It’s about time you came to see me.”

      “I’m sorry, I...” Tears stung her eyes at the memory of their ugly last exchange of words.

      How dare you accuse my husband of cheating? The only reason you’re saying any of this is because you’re jealous I got married and had a baby first.

      Shame flushed Macy’s cheeks. Where did she start to make amends for the horrible, unfounded accusation?

      “Look at you...” Wendy took Henry, holding him out for a better view.

      He’d always been a happy baby, and he grinned now with Wendy’s light jiggles.

      “You’re so big, and have your mommy’s pretty blue eyes.”

      “Wendy,” Macy said. “I owe you a huge apology, and—”

      “You don’t owe me a thing. I’m sorry your fairy-tale prince turned out to be a royal scumbag.”

      That made Macy laugh and hold out her arms for another hug.

      “I still have Henry’s playpen in back. As you can see, Alice and I are swamped. Mind helping out for a bit, and then we can talk?”

      Just like that, their friendship was back on track.

      With Henry content in a sunny corner, alternately cooing over the toys Aunt Wendy had long ago bought him and charming the customers, Macy worked the coffee machine, filling orders as quickly as they came in. Within thirty minutes, the crowd thinned to a manageable trickle, at which point, Wendy passed Alice the reins, then tugged Macy to the backroom to make more cookies and have a proper chat.

      Henry had fallen asleep, and Alice promised to let Macy know the second he woke.

      Once Macy and her oldest friend caught up on each other’s family news and town gossip, she wasn’t surprised when Wendy broached the subject of Macy’s pesky neighbor.

      “Well?” Wendy asked after popping a cookie tray in the oven. “Are you ever going to tell me about your reunion with Wiley?”

      “I’d hardly call it a reunion—more like a catastrophe.” She delivered the short version of their encounter. “I get that he’s hurting, but he acts like a grumpy old bear with a thorn stuck in his paw.”

      “Then you’re not back to practicing writing Mrs. Macy James like you used to in tenth grade?”

      “Um, no. He’s horrible. Just when I think we could at least be civil, he goes and says something even more outrageous or offensive than the last time we talked. My dad thinks I should give him a wide berth.”

      “And your mom?”

      Macy rolled her eyes. “Already picking wedding invitations.”

      Wendy winced. “It’s a little soon for you to be back at the altar, isn’t it? How long has your divorce been final?”

      “Six months, but our marriage was over before then. And thank you for taking my side. Even if I was in the market for male companionship, Wiley is the last man on earth I’d choose.”