Recipe for Romance: Mug Cakes

Persia Walker stared at the online announcement of the public planning commission meeting. It wouldn’t be bad if it was in somewhere like wine country in California or near Aspen, Colorado.

But no, the uber wealthy newspaper tycoon wanted to build it in Wyoming, at the foot of Deadman Mountain in Sublette County. The town had a population of five thousand, making it one of the larger settlements in the state, but still not populous enough to support the staff needs of a snooty rich people’s resort. It would drive up the property taxes and push out the locals, making it impossible for ordinary people to live there.

As if they haven’t already done that to Jackson Hole.

Persia scowled at the announcement, which included a map of the proposed location of the expansion. She traced the West Washakie River until she reached Little Blind Bear Creek and froze. The proposed site would cover not only both sides of the river, but it would encompass all of Blind Bear and Little Blind Bear creeks, decimating the fossil site she’d been guarding for millennia.

“No. No fucking way.” She brought out her phone and took a photo, then headed down the sidewalk toward the little café that had the best peppermint tea this side of the Cretaceous.

Once she had her tea, she headed out to the little sitting area in the front and claimed a bench that could take her full, but muted weight. She set her tea down beside her and pulled out her phone. She hadn’t spoken to Professor Nozomi Shimizu in a couple of months since the end of last year’s field season, but she’d kept the professor appraised of anything going on near the site. She dialed the university and waited to be connected.