After her drive back down what she now dubbed Garrett’s mountain, Cora went to pick up Milo from the daycare center on Vine Street. It was still in the touristy section of town, enough so that locating a parking spot for her minivan in a nearby public lot was problematic and took longer than she would have liked. At least her cousin had the foresight to have a designated gated parking lot for employees at the club and Teton Cowboy. Spencer had pulled some strings for her so that she could utilize the daycare whenever she needed it during normal business hours. Since she was working mainly at night, she didn’t need to use it much. But it would help when—if—she got a job during the day.

Thank God for Spencer. They were cousins on their mothers’ side. When they were kids, they had lived on the same street, just four houses apart from one another, until Cora’s dad had been offered a job in Seattle. She’d been twelve when they’d moved away. But in those early years she and Spencer had formed a bond, even though he was a few years older, and they had managed to stay in touch. The years he’d served in the army, Cora had sent him care packages each week to wherever he was stationed. He tended to act more like her big brother than her cousin.

And Spencer had been the first one she’d called when Jeff died. Not her parents, not Jeff’s parents, but Spencer. Because she’d known he would help her handle everything, and he had. The man had been on a plane to Seattle inside of two hours, had stepped in and overseen the arrangements for the funeral and all the fallout surrounding his death. Cora wouldn’t have survived the first two weeks afterward without him. He’d even taken her to prenatal checkup and ultrasound appointments.

Cora had to admit it was a tad bizarre that she was back in the town where she had gotten her start. Nor had it been the homecoming she’d envisioned. It was funny but she remembered Jackson Hole as this magical place, probably because the last time she’d been here, she’d been a kid, carefree and unfettered by responsibilities.

There was a ton of nostalgia as she drove through the streets, seeing the familiar sights next to new stores and restaurants. Some of her fondest memories as a child were of this town. And she wanted that for Milo: the community, the memories, and being this close to nature. He was a mite young to be taken on some of the hikes and trails, but she was looking forward to instilling that love of physical activity. Her son definitely had the energy for it. If only she could bottle his energy and sell it to adults, she’d make millions.

The Teton Tykes Daycare Center’s glass door was decorated with their emblem, a colorful image depicting five kids holding hands. She stepped inside and was bombarded with the sounds of children laughing and talking.

Beyond the sign-in desk and coat area were tables with arts and crafts, a reading corner, a toy section and then, farther back, they had an entire indoor playground. Milo loved it here. Considering he was a font of nonstop energy, the number of activities and chances for him to play were perfect.

“Mama!” Milo cried with joy when he spied her, his tiny legs racing toward her with his arms outstretched for her to pick him up. His blond curls bounced as he ran.

“Hi, baby. Did you have fun playing with the other kids?” She caught him up in her arms and settled him on her hip.

“Yep.”

Cora glanced at Sally, the owner of Teton Tykes, and asked, “How was he?”

Sally wore a tranquil expression on her angelic face. She was a natural blonde and a veritable font of calm, cool energy. Cora didn’t know how she managed this many children and remained sane. Sally replied, “Well, he wasn’t bad, for the most part. But he does have a propensity for putting things in his mouth.”

Yes. Yes, he did. It was a little factoid about him Cora knew very well and had warned Sally about from the start.

“What was it this time?” Cora asked. Please let it be nothing disgusting.

“Nothing bad, just a crayon. Although the other kids thought it was a brilliant idea and copied him. It’s safe to say we’ll be buying new crayons for the center now,” Sally remarked with an amused expression.

A crayon? That was it? Phew!

Then she winced. The daycare had to buy all new crayons because of her son. At least they weren’t an expensive item for her to replace.

“I’m so sorry. I can pay for you to replace the crayons. Just let me know how much and I will reimburse you,” she offered. Milo was going to be a leader among his peers, if she could just get him past his propensity for mischief, everything would work out fine.

“It’s not a problem. They were just crayons,” Sally said with a smile, like she had seen it all when it came to kids—which, considering she ran a daycare, she probably had.

“Thank you so much. I will pay you for those.”

“You’re fine. Milo, it was great to see you today. You come back and see us again, okay?” Sally said with a gregarious smile at Milo.

Milo nodded with a grin on his face.

“See you next time,” Sally said and then walked back into the thick of it.

As much as Cora loved Milo, she had to admit the woman was a saint with the number of kids on hand. It was hard enough being a single parent with one kid, let alone two dozen.

“So what should we do today?” Cora asked as they exited Teton Tykes.

“Ice cream.” Milo pointed at Dream Cone Ice Creamery three doors down. They had a big, four-foot sidewalk sign. The top half depicted an ice cream cone covered in rainbow sprinkles. On the board beneath the cone was the day’s special ice cream flavor—today was mint chocolate chip.

Her son had a one-track mind. She’d promised him if he was good, they would go for ice cream. Milo loved ice cream. If she allowed it, it would be the only thing he would eat. And to be honest, she didn’t consider him putting a crayon in his mouth being bad. Just Milo being Milo.

“All right, we’ll walk down to the ice cream shop and then go to the park for a bit to let you run off all that energy before your nap.”

“No nap, Mama,” Milo said with a shake of his golden head.

“Not right now. We’ll get ice cream first.” And then hopefully she could figure out what she was going to do to make money since the posh job at the ski resort was a no go.

They ambled down main street, her son’s hand clutched in hers. His joy at spying the bright colorful window displays and toys warmed her. Even when her day had turned rotten, all she had to do was look at her son, the golden curls on top of his head and his blue eyes, so like Jeff’s, for her day to magically improve.

At the ice cream shop, she got Milo a single scoop vanilla cone. He’d be wearing half of it by the time he finished. But he happily sat in his chair as he ate.

“Hey there, love. Who have we got here?” a deep voice said.

She glanced up and spied Matt. Gone were the jeans and flannel he wore at the club, in their place were one of those iron man workout tank tops in gray and a pair of black athletic shorts. The tank top displayed his sleek, muscular physique. She couldn’t deny that Matt was an attractive man. Nor did she miss the way his smoky gaze gave her body the same assessment—but in that masculine, he’d be interested in seeing her out of her clothes type of way. Granted, the simple A-line navy blue dress and heels she was wearing were a far cry from her outfits at the club.

Cora smiled. “Fancy meeting you here. This is Milo.”

“Hey Milo, it’s good to meet you. Yours?” he asked with a raised brow.

“Yep. What are you doing here?” It was beginning to get a little crowded with the men from the club whom she kept running into. She wasn’t ashamed of her job, but it did bring home just how small of a community this town was and how big a mistake she’d made last night.

“Just grabbing some coffee before my next training client.” He indicated the to-go cup in his large, tanned hand.

“That’s right. You work at a gym, right?” she asked, keeping an eye on Milo and the vanilla ice cream coating his chin.

“I own the gym, actually. Two doors down on the other side of the El Arroyo Mexican restaurant. Mountain Top Fitness.”

“You wouldn’t happen to need a yoga instructor, would you?” she asked blithely. Her life had seemed to consist of one professional mistake after another. Not the jobs, per se, but her chosen professions. In college she had studied banking and finance, hoping to go into the financial sector after graduation. She even did an internship with a prestigious bank in Seattle that held the promise of a position once she graduated. Then the big market crash happened and the sure-fire job she thought she would have vanished like smoke on the wind. But that had led her to get her yoga certifications and she didn’t regret those.

“What?” Matt asked, studying her.

“Never mind. I had an interview for a job as a yoga instructor this morning and it didn’t go well. If you hear of anyone looking to hire an instructor, I have multiple certifications in the various practices, from hatha to hot yoga and more,” she explained. It never hurt to let people know you had qualifications. The jobs she had been able to acquire in Seattle had been via word of mouth.

Matt cocked his head to the side, his gaze assessing her, and said, “Well then come work for me. I’ve been wanting to expand on the classes offered to draw more female clientele in the doors. I know you have a solid work ethic after seeing your work at the club.”

“Don’t have enough female flesh at the club?” she teased.

He flashed her a heart-stopping grin and gave a manly shrug, like he wasn’t going to apologize for appreciating the opposite sex. “When Milo’s done with his cone, why don’t you both come over and you can check out the space? The pay wouldn’t be much, to start, and would be on a per class basis, but we can work it out.”

Matt waited for her response. The ‘not much’ she could work with when it came to the pay, especially since she had the job at the club.

“All right, I’ll come take a look.” What could it hurt? And a little money was better than no money.

Once Milo finished demolishing his cone—and he did finish every bite of that ice cream with the exception of what ended up on the outside of his body—Cora took him into the restroom for a quick clean-up of his hands and face. The shirt was a loss, the bright blue shirt depicting a robot was stained with drops of ice cream and would need to go into the laundry basket when they made it home.

They exited Dream Cone Ice Creamery hand-in-hand and walked the short distance to Mountain Top Fitness. Unlike most of the rest of the shops and restaurants, the front entrance of the gym was fairly nondescript. Just a bank of windows and a glass entry door. She pulled it open, ushering Milo inside. It was larger inside than she would have guessed from the sidewalk. Rows of cardio machines, from treadmills to ellipticals, stair steppers and more graced one wall. Weight machines dominated the center, where a person could work everything from glutes to hamstrings to biceps and everything in between. Along a bank of mirrors was an entire section devoted to free weights. There were currently a few uber-buffed guys, with arms the size of tree trunks, currently spotting each other.

Beyond the gym equipment there was an illuminated fitness room, a glass wall separating the two rooms, with a step class in full swing. The gym was well lit, and clean. She noted the women’s and men’s locker rooms in the far back, as well as a few other doors she was sure were most likely for storage and the like.

“You came. I wasn’t sure if you were going to back out on me,” Matt said, coming out from behind the sleek modern black front desk.

“Yes, sorry. Milo ended up wearing half of his ice cream. So we had a bit of clean-up to do,” she explained as Milo stared wide-eyed at all the equipment. She was waiting for the sugar rush of the ice cream to hit and could only hope they would make it out beforehand.

“Follow me and I’ll give you guys a tour,” Matt said.

With Milo’s hand clutched firmly in hers, Cora followed as Matt proceeded to show her his gym.

“So how long have you had this place?” she asked.

“Couple of years. I don’t just do training, I’m also a licensed physical therapist. I tend to get a lot of referrals from doctors in the area. It keeps me busy and this place open.” He opened a door to a room which held massage and therapy equipment, along with a steam room.

“I bet.” The next room he showed her was full of spin bikes. “You do spinning classes?”

“We used to. I haven’t had an instructor here in a year. You certified in it?” he asked, almost like a dare.

“Actually, I am. All my certifications are up to date and valid in the State of Wyoming too.”

“Are they now? What type of yoga classes have you instructed?”

“A bit of everything, from hatha to power yoga to vinyasa flow to bikram. I can give you the full list.”

As they’d toured, the step class had ended and he led them into the now empty fitness studio. The room with special pinewood athletic flooring could easily fit twenty-five to thirty people for a yoga class. Matt closed the door behind them. Milo tugged his hand free of hers and started running in circles around the room. Since he had no way of escaping and there wasn’t anything visible she could see that he could put in his mouth or pick up and hurt himself with, she let him have at it. Milo’s sugar rush was fully engaged and it would be best for him to run it out.

“If you want to come work for me, I’m game. I pay all my instructors a hundred a class plus ten percent from the cost of the class for each patron. We have a drop-in price of ten bucks a class to get the tourists at the local resorts and hotels. Then, for the residents, we have class package prices. But for accounting purposes, I consider it ten bucks a person. So basically, you will make a hundred a class, plus a buck per person.”

“And how many people tend to show up for classes?” she asked, doing the calculations in her mind.

“On average, twenty or so, depending on the class. To start, I’d want to give you ten classes a week. We can work out a schedule since you’ve got that one around. What does his father do?” Matt asked, glancing at her hands. She taken off her wedding ring a year ago. But there were times when her hand felt naked without it.

The pain came swiftly, as it always did. She shook her head. “His father’s not around at all.”

“I see. Well, I can work with you as far as scheduling goes. I’ve already seen your work ethic at the club. So the job is yours if you want it,” Matt offered with his arms crossed in front of him.

Ten classes to start? She did the calculations in her head. Between her haul each night at the club and now this, she just might make it.

“I’ll take it,” she said, feeling a bit of relief for the first time since she’d moved them here. Her plan might just work after all. If not, there was always Arizona with her parents. But the thought of being thirty-one and living with her parents did not fill her with joy. She loved her parents and they her, but over the last few years she had really struggled to maintain her independence, even with everything she had faced. It wasn’t that anyone would think less of her, because they wouldn’t—nor did she particularly care what other people thought. But she would feel like a failure, as a mother, and as an adult, that she couldn’t provide for her son without assistance. She knew it was pride and just how stupid pride could be, but damn it, that was all she had at times, and it was what had kept her pushing through instead of caving and giving up.

Matt smiled. “Good. Let’s head to my office so we can get the paperwork done, hash out a tentative schedule and then I can let you two be on your way.”

“Sounds good. Milo, want to play some Angry Birds on my phone?” she asked. Her son stopped in his tracks, squealed delightedly, and raced over to her on his short little legs. She scooped him up and followed Matt to his office.

While it wasn’t the posh job at the ski resort, she’d gotten this job on her own terms, her own steam, and that was something she could be proud of, and that Milo one day could be too.

And, as an added bonus, she hadn’t slept with the owner.