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Prologue

From the diary of Eleanor Chance

August 15, 1990

WHEN YOUR CHILD MARRIES, you instantly become related to a whole lot more folks. Sometimes that’s a lovely thing and sometimes it’s not. But in the case of our only son, Jonathan, marrying Sarah Gillespie eight years ago, we lucked out. Judy and Bill are salt-of-the-earth.

When I told Judy that, she called it a supreme compliment. She’s lived in Shoshone for more than thirty years, but some locals still think of her as an uppity Easterner. I admit when she first arrived she caused quite a stir, and people around here have long memories.

She blew in from New York City, flush with money from her modeling career and wearing pricey designer outfits. She immediately bought a small ranch and hired one of Jackson Hole’s most eligible bachelors, Bill Gillespie, to help run it. We all predicted they’d get married, which they did, and within a year little Sarah was born.

But then Judy made the mistake of announcing she’d only have one child in order to keep her figure. That didn’t sit well with the town busybodies. Personally, I didn’t give a hoot. She had the right to make that decision for herself.

I liked her from the get-go. She was generous with her money, always willing to support local charity efforts, and she worked right alongside Bill as they turned their place into a cute little guest ranch. She worked hard to make the place cozy and profitable until they chose to sell and move into town.

Judy came over today so she, Sarah and I could have a confab about Jack’s twelfth birthday party next month. Judy keeps trying to get that boy to warm up to her, but Jack’s a funny one. He’s never quite recovered after his mother left when he was a toddler.

Consequently he got it into his head that because Sarah is not his “real” mother, he has no right to claim Judy as his grandmother. He thinks his brothers are the only ones who deserve that privilege. No amount of reasoning works with him. Next to the word stubborn in the dictionary is a picture of my grandson Jack.

But Judy keeps trying, and the birthday present she’s bought for Jack is a perfect example. She asked a rare book dealer in New York to track down an autographed copy of one of Jack’s favorite Louis L’Amour titles. I don’t even want to know what she paid for it, and Jack won’t realize the effort and expense involved, but I’m sure he’ll treasure the book. Maybe someday he’ll realize what a gift of love it is.

In any case, I’ll be forever grateful that Judy chose Wyoming as her landing spot after she left modeling. Besides giving birth to the amazing Sarah, she’s also been an asset to the community. In my opinion, we could use a few more Easterners blowing into town to shake things up and keep us from getting too set in our ways.