Chapter Thirty-One
Her mother was pouting. She could hear it over the phone. “I don’t know why you and your sister are so against the Posse doing something for you,” Dottie groused.
Lydia rolled her eyes as she wove through the crowded exhibition hall in Miles City, Montana. “How about you hold a luncheon at the diner? Now that you have a back room, why not break it in?” She still missed the Formica counter and vintage booths of the old diner, but when her mother had rebuilt after the tornado, she’d done it with an eye toward the future.
“When will you be home?”
“We’ll be home late tomorrow night. Colt’s last ride is this evening.”
“Then three days from now will be okay?”
“Colt’s insisted I take the week off from boot making. Something about him being worried my hands will be too swo
