When I first started this book written by a fellow Virginian, whom I had just met, I wasn't sure I was going to like it, but boy, was I wrong. Honenberger pulls you right into the middle of this father/son relationship and keeps you turning the pages! Her description of Rhue's love of horses is so intense you feel it. His abandonment of wife and baby, and subsequent sad, broken relationship with his grown son, Ford, is the theme of the story.

We meet the 40-year-old Ford in NY city at the same time he's meeting a new love, Evie. Through their poignant relationship, both afraid of commitment, Ford discovers he is ready to forgive his father for abandoning him years before. And Rhue, after meeting up with a series of most unlikely characters who lead him through a series of experiences that only an old waltzing cowboy could tolerate, manages to find his way to his son's door. Although the climax is thumbnail, it is enough. A good read and a happy one. ( )

Sarah Collins Honenberger has an amazing skill with first chapters. It was reading the first chapter of “White Lies” online that persuaded me to buy her first book. And the first chapter of “Waltzing Cowboys” has a similar effect.

I’ve never ridden a horse, nor even really wanted to. Yet Sarah brings me alongside her aging cowboy, Rhue, and I hold my breath, trying to keep silent, as he stretches out his hand to the palomino. I want to feel that soft breath in my own palm, and I keep my eyes almost closed as I read, so as not to disturb her.

There’s a theme established in that first chapter, and the rest of the novel stays true to it, eventually coming full circle with Rhue re-entering the broken relationship of his past. And I hold my breath again.

Rhue’s story is interwoven with that of his grown-up son. Rhue’s love is seen through the eyes of a fascinating cast of characters, looking back on their own families’ pain. And Rhue’s quest becomes a journey as full of pitfalls as an old man’s stumbling in a crooked pasture.

There were places where the coincidences seemed a little too contrived in this story, but their contrivance contributed to a beautiful picture—New York as wonderful as the Montana plains—and each new event became part of an intricate dance. Full of glorious images and people and phrases, this book was a waltz with my own soul, through the footsteps of another, and I really enjoyed it. ( )