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doing.”
    In his best John Wayne drawl he said, “Don’t you worry your pretty head about my cookin’, little lady. Everyone in these parts knows that Whit MacKenzie makes the best gall darned skillet taters in all of Montana.”
    “Skillet taters.” She nodded. “I like the sound of that.”
    “You writing a cookbook?”
    “Something like that. Actually, I’ve been dreaming of having a book published for most of my life.”
    “What kind of book?”
    She chewed her lip, aware that she’d revealed more than she’d intended. Now she was forced to plow ahead. “An illustrated children’s book about a girl growing up in a small town and her imaginary friend, who is really a magical flying horse.”
    He thought about that a minute. “Sounds like something every kid dreams about. I always wished I could fly. What’s the title?”
    She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve played with so many titles, you can have your pick. Adventures with Arac . The Great Horse Caper . And my favorite, Arac and Her Magic Horse .”
    He laughed. “And you think they’re original?”
    “Yeah. I hear you. But whenever I think about titles, I get stuck.”
    “So, your amazing brain can’t come up with a simple, catchy title?”
    “I could always call it Home on the Range .”
    He rolled his eyes. “Were you planning on growing a bushy beard and signing autographs from a rickety wooden wagon?”
    That had her laughing. “Yeah. I guess it’s a little too corny.”
    Whit used a hot pad to remove the skillet from the fire and place it on the wooden table set for two. “I made coffee if you’d like some.”
    “Thanks. I’ll get my cup.” She stood and stretched before crossing to the table.
    “You looked really comfortable in that chair.”
    “It was a perfect nap. And what a great way to wake up.”
    “You mean, seeing me next to you?”
    “I was talking about this.” She spread her hands to indicate the fried potatoes and ham-and-cheese sandwiches, melted to perfection, laid out on the table.
    “The story of my life. I come in second to a ham and cheese.”
    She was laughing as she turned. “Want some coffee?”
    “Sure.”
    She filled two mugs before taking her place across from him. As she bit into her sandwich, she couldn’t help the sigh of pure pleasure. “Oh, this is even better than it looks.”
    “Thanks, I think.” He grinned at the compliment before taking a bite of fried potatoes. “Hey, for something that came out of a box and was freeze-dried, these aren’t bad either.”
    Following his lead, Cara spooned the potatoes and onions onto her plate and tasted.
    As they enjoyed their meal, Whit glanced over. “Now, about your book. What are you planning on doing with it?”
    She blushed. “That’s one of the things I need to figure out. So here I am.”
    “You’re up here hiding from the world to figure out your life?”
    She stared hard at her plate, avoiding his eyes. “It’s really hard to let go of a lifetime dream. But a…person recently let me know that I’m only fooling myself if I think I’m good enough to be a published author.”
    Whit arched a brow. “Could this person be a guy?”
    Her head snapped up. “I didn’t say it was a guy.”
    “You didn’t have to. Now, about the book? How did it come about?”
    Cara was relieved. She would much rather talk about the book than about the guy who’d caused her to question her long-held dream. “I grew up in my gram’s house in Minerva. She was strict and tough, but she taught me how to read and write and to work hard to follow my dreams. And though she was tough, she loved me unconditionally. And when I finished high school, she pushed me to search for every tuition grant available so I could be the first in my family to go to college.”
    “And did you?”
    Her smile was quick and bright. “Yeah. At first I did it for Gram. And later, for myself.”
    “I bet she’s proud of you.”
    Her smile faded. “Gram passed away while I was in