Feeding the Heart (Serenity Stables Book 1): Falling in love over the healing of a horse.

by Wendy Nickel

  Fortunately, Pammy had gone back up to the house after they’d had snacks and some more water. She had kept it to texting for the rest of the day, and Josie was grateful for the personal space while still being in connection about the work details yet to be addressed.

  They kept on in a busy back-and-forth flow the rest of the afternoon. Grain, supplements, holiday orders, messages about the barn being closed, the basic million things that could easily unravel if they weren’t managed—not only the barn admin but the horses’ health.

  Josie was waiting for Pammy to double-check a date for the final brush-and-branch work party when she looked at her phone and saw a message from Cam.

  Hey. You okay?

  Josie did a double-take. Then a teeter-totter of emotions began to swirl up in her chest. Equal parts dread and embarrassment and elation and giddiness all coursed through her body and mind.

  She touched his name on her screen as she calmed herself and tried to figure out how she should respond. How sweet that he is checking in!

  And how rare. The level of sweetness she noticed in Cam was already off the charts compared with previous fellows she’d met in the dating arena. ‘Course, she hadn’t really dated since she’d gotten the full time gig at the barn.

  She didn’t go anywhere else, and she was too tired at the end of each day to consider braving new terrain with a whole new person in a social atmosphere.

  Movies, popcorn, hot chocolate, and laundry were more her speed when it came to downtime. She couldn’t imagine herself at a bar or out to a movie with someone so new.

  But Cam didn’t feel new to her, even though he definitely was. Josie absolutely knew how attracted she was to him, body and mind. But what about soul? Did the attraction extend to a deeper realm in her heart?

  It was too soon to tell, but the comfort she felt in his presence was already warming her to a soft sigh… and the possibility.

  Josie shifted in her seat and reached a hand up to rub her neck, sore from holding stress from the day. She subtly switched gears to answering this thoughtful message from a handsome man.

  A smile pulled her lips up and she ran a hand from her forehead back over the top of her head to smooth her hair, bringing her hand to rest her cheek as she gazed out onto the hill leading up to Pammy’s house.

  Better… Now. Thanks for checking in.

  She sent the message and let her smile grow to open her mouth.

  A moment later, a wiry twinge of self-consciousness twisted in to remind her what a fool she had looked like and how dumb it was to have passed out. This was the umpteenth billion time she’d replayed the whole scene out.

  It wasn’t helping with anything. There wasn’t anything she could do about it, except to continue to feel bad. Or think about something else, which just didn’t seem possible at the moment.

  I gotta go… now, she thought. Her belly rolled and grumbled, a reminder that dinner would need to be a thing soon. A grimace stole into the place that just briefly held a smile. It was still early on in the late afternoon. Probably not too crazy to get to the store and grab a couple of things for the fridge, and maybe even make up something extra for the freezer.

  When she was remembering to eat at all, Josie mostly just had a bit here and there or picking up prepared food on the way home so she could eat it alone. But her checks weren’t getting her as far along in the month by doing that, she realized with a sigh.

  Nope. Big girl grocery pants. Right now. Put ‘em on. Pull ‘em up and GO! The hundredth of many more heavy sighs escaped her as she surrendered to her task, swung her backpack up over her shoulder, and closed the barn gate behind her.

  Everyone on the afternoon crew was present and accounted for. They wouldn’t need her to bring in the horses from the paddock, and hay was already dropped in each stall for the horses’ suppers. Pammy always came down to give grain and a final tuck-in, so that was accounted for, too.

  She felt pulled to check her phone and swiped the screen to see if Cam had responded. Nothing.

  And another sigh. Disappointed, she went to pull her little orange list out of her back pocket, checking it partly out of compulsion, mostly out of habit.

  No. The word appeared in her mind and cut through to her awareness, almost like a sharp bell had chimed and woken her up. No? She thought. It took her just a moment to remember, Oh, yeah, I was leaving. That’s right… stop at the store.

  She fretted and mused all three miles to the store. Fretted and second-guessed herself at not receiving a text response, and mused about what to pick up in terms of ingredients.

  It was far too chilly for cold salads and those, even when she made a big bowl, just didn’t have as much fridge-life before they went bad. A warm dish would definitely be better.

  Soup? With cheese & crackers?

  Mmmmaybe.

  Chili?

  Love it… but that’d be a lot of plant fiber and gas potential. Maybe not a good idea just in case...

  Stew? Better…

  With biscuits? Even better.

  What about chicken and rice?

  She pulled up and stopped in her usual parking space. After checking her phone one more time, she grabbed a worn canvas bag from the backseat, threw her backpack on and slammed the car door.

  Just get it over with and get home…that’s all you gotta do. She coax-coached herself up to the sliding doors and felt the whoosh of air-conditioning as she stepped through. Really, air-conditioning now? Don’t they know it’s November?

  Josie glanced over at the hot deli and longed to just get a pint of mac and cheese…something that was hot right now, that she could get right now, and be done with this errand right now.

  Trouble was, spending on a whole pint of mac and cheese now would definitely mean she’d have to cook for the rest of the month.

  But there had been so much day in her day already. She just felt done.

  Mac and cheese. Mac and cheese. Mac and cheese. It was almost a mantra, cycling and looping inside of her. Get the mac and cheese. Emotionally, she had nothing to fight that thought. That urge. The force to get carbs drenched in cheese nearly overpowered her.

  You were going to cook, she reminded herself again. You have time. Just get a couple of things, and maybe a tiny scoop—three to four bites—of mac and cheese to eat here, as a snack before going home and cooking?

  That felt solid. That felt do-able. There was no denial and there was no overspending. When she got to the hot case, she asked for just a couple of bites.

  Snack size scoop, please, she’d said. But Casey, behind the glass in her red-and-white striped apron, spooned out a heaping sample-sized cup for Josie to eat on the spot.

  This was a completely new way to manage hunger around the hot case! Smaller, less expensive scoops! Way less expensive, in fact, considering that Casey had sold Josie the equivalent of her bodyweight in mac and cheese since she’d started working at the store last spring.

  I gotcha covered if you just need a snack, doll. Goodness knows you’re good for it!

  Josie smiled and said her grateful thanks. Casey shared kindness and warmth so easily, and it felt as restorative as the warm creamy/salty cheese and pasta.

  She scraped her paper spoon against the paper cup to get every drop of cheese sauce she could. She wanted all the warmth and was, in fact, hungry for it.

  She felt a nudge at her right arm just as the last of her snack entered her mouth. Spinning around in surprise, she found Cam, big smile and warm, right at her side.

  “You are doing better now,” he winked at her in a way that was light, cheerful, and yummy.

  She blinked. And then blinked again. He’d gotten her text. He was right here, right now and… flirting?

  “Yeah, I am,” she returned with a bit of a dare and a look directly into his eyes. “Mac and cheese is nearly medicinal in my book. Don’t you agree?”

  “Well, I’m no vet or doctor, but I’d say it’s working for you, for sure,” he laughed. “Maybe I should try it,
too?”

  “You should! I mean, it couldn’t hurt…unless you’re gluten- and dairy-free, I suppose. Allow me,” she said, and turned back to Casey. “How about spooning a sample of your magic mac and cheese for Cam here, Casey?”

  It was Casey’s turn to laugh, passing two tiny cups of steaming cheesy pasta across the countertop.

  Josie absolutely beamed at Casey, then at Cam as she gave him the little paper cup with the spoon sunk in. She watched him expectantly while she held hers in her hand.

  Cam fished out the paper scooper and proceeded to bring the cup to his lips, squeezing the bottom of the cup so the gooey goodness was pushed right into his open mouth.

  Josie stared, feeling so many things all at once. Amazed. Warm. Stunned. Tickled. And there was that purr again in her belly.

  “What?” He asked, and they both broke up laughing. The lightness between them seemed to carbonate them both.

  “Well?” She wanted the verdict.

  “Quite good,” he declared with another smile, licking his lips as he binned the paper cup. “Not as good as mine,” he went on, “but quite good.”

  “Oh, right... You make mac and cheese? From scratch, Cam?” She scooped a bite and gave him a tiny side-eye, making sure he knew this was a serious topic.

  “I do. A lot in the very cold winters. Thinking it might be a lot colder here than it was in California. Feels like it is already, anyway.”

  “Probably so,” she agreed as she finished up and gave Casey another smile of thanks. As she reached across to place her used paper cup into the bin, her hand brushed his arm just a bit.

  She felt dizzy again, but knew that this was not from lack of food. This was more…swoon-y.

  “What are you shopping for tonight?” He asked, seeming not to notice his affect on her.

  “Uh…. I was undecided in the car, but it was down to chicken and rice or a stew with biscuits on the side.”

  “You’re a from-scratch cook too, huh?” He prodded, returning her previous jab with a smile and a bit of his own look, demanding an honest answer.

  “Sometimes,” she responded, her guard pretty well melted away. “It’s easier on the pocket than eating out all the time.”

  “Same,” he offered. They fell into a silence for a moment before Cam broke it. “Feel like going in on groceries and making dinner together tonight?”

  “Depends,” she smiled, “What were you going to make?”

  A few minutes later, they had a menu and most of the ingredients in the baskets. It was going to be chicken and dumplings, with a ton of veggies to go in with the chicken.

  “Well, I haven’t done the dumplings bit, so I’m trusting you not to jack up my dinner here, Cam. That’s a major responsibility,” she teased, as though the dumplings were puppies that would need looking after.

  “I’ve got ‘em well in hand,” he assured, and her heart beat even faster. She turned away so he wouldn’t see her grin.

  “Well in hand,” he murmured, and she still felt his eyes and the warmth of his voice at her back.

  They paid and decided to head to Cam’s place to cook, since it was closer to the store than hers.

  It was more of adventure than she’d planned on, but it was still early, and she felt a kind of magic.

  12

  Cam

  Had he cleaned up the laundry he’d set out to dry in the bathroom?

  Oh, geez, he groaned, What about the state of the bathroom?

  Self-conscious and wanting to give the apartment a once-over before letting Josie in, he sped back to his place and moved the now-dry shirts and pants into the closet and shut the door. The heat? Crud! He’d forgotten about that, too.

  He turned the oven on and let it preheat. Well, this was what he could do for now.

  Taking another hasty turn around the apartment, he double-checked that nothing offensive or weird was left out. He really didn’t have much to begin with, though, unless it was farrier tools or equipment. But those were all down in his truck, anyway.

  Fortunately a check had come in from another client farm that day. It actually came in just after he’d sent that text to check in on her. He’d been so grateful and elated at the sight of some much-needed income. He felt pride and relief.

  There was just about nothing in his place left to eat, and he needed some other essentials as well. That’s why he’d gone out earlier. It had been a quiet time of day, a rarity, so he figured he’d make the most of it and get that money in the bank and some food for his house.

  He’d deposited the check and gotten some cash out when he saw her. She’d been talking with the woman working in the deli. He glanced at his phone before making his way over and saw her text message.

  What are you doing, Cam? His own inner voice warned. You know dating is expensive, and you only just got a check a minute ago.

  He ignored the voice.

  It wasn’t clear at all where the idea had come from to go in on dinner and make it together. It had just felt smooth and natural; it was fast, but in a way that also felt right.

  We’re having dinner. It’s responsible. It’s casual. We’re splitting the bill. It’s cool, he justified.

  He worried he’d come off as cheap by making the offer to buy, cook, and eat together. But it hadn’t seemed to land with Josie like that. Or, maybe, he dreaded, she just felt more friend-feelings for him. Or worse, no feelings toward him?

  That couldn’t be right. She wouldn’t hang out with anyone she didn’t like at all, would she?

  Well, he’d just have to find out. He splashed some water on his face and ran his hands through his hair to tame it back a little bit. Just a few swipes of deodorant and...

  He heard her tap at the door.

  She looked beautiful, if a little more shy than she had when she was requesting samples of side dishes for him just 20 minutes earlier.

  It was still light out, but the skies were definitely beginning to darken. He kept forgetting he was so far north that the days get really short in the fall. He switched on the porch light suddenly and there was a sharp glare that momentarily blinded him.

  “Agh,” Josie lifted the canvas bag up to block some of the light out of her eyes. “Bright much?”

  “Oh geez. Sorry, Josie, come on in. I didn’t mean to blind you with my high-beam porch light. I kinda got myself, too! Didn’t realize it was so bright.” Cam reached for the bag, his hands touching hers. As he pulled for the bag, she didn’t let go but let him lead her over the threshold while still covering her eyes.

  He laughed, though he was still seeing spots as well. He shut the door and brought her in to the kitchen. The light was cozy but not too bright; it was clean, if spare. He pulled a couple of drinks together for them to sip on while they cooked.

  The oven beeped.

  “You made something already? Without me?” She chided good-naturedly.

  She’s got a quick mind, he thought to himself. Someone who’s paying attention. I better watch it! I definitely like it.

  “Just heat,” he promised. “I couldn’t really start without you... the ‘dumpling show’ happens at the end.”

  “All right… well, if you’ve got time and you’ve got the ‘heat on,’ do you want me to get the chicken going or chop veggies?”

  “I’ll wash and chop,” he quipped. She’d be able to stand near the oven and stay warmer that way. Plus, he could sit and watch her at the stove.

  He found it meditative to prepare food, especially chopping onion, celery, and peeling then chopping carrots. “How do you feel about peas?” He asked, ready to go to the freezer to get the third of a bag he had left.

  “No way,” she shot back. “Peas are definitely a dinner deal-breaker.”

  “Okay, okay,” he said, both hands up in surrender, “I take it back. No peas.” He wondered for a second if he’d offended her, now that he’d blinded her and offered her peas. He looked at her face while she opened the package of chicken breasts and began chopping it into chunks on a pla
stic cutting board labelled “meat.”

  She turned and smiled at him. “Sorry, I’m fairly strong-minded on the pea-front. Can’t do them. Ever. They make me gag.”

  “Really?” He asked, hoping she’d go on. He waited a moment for her to continue while he got out the electric pressure cooker his mom got for him just before he left California. They’d made chicken and dumplings together... with peas, as was tradition, the last time he saw her.

  His heart tugged just a little bit at the thought of that dinner. And now here he was, about to take on the steam release with this beautiful woman in his house. Nervous, but game, he put the cooker on the counter and pressed “Saute” on the screen to get it warmed up.

  “Well,” he eyed her, tilting his head and scratching his chin with mock seriousness, “it definitely won’t be ‘traditional’ chicken and dumplings without peas. I’m not sure how I feel about that… but I guess I’m game. Depending on how are you on mushrooms?”

  “Mushrooms are a ‘go,’” she affirmed. He felt the good kind of tension, that sweet anticipation kind, skyrocket.

  “We’re not using the stove with a stock pot?” Josie asked, in almost a statement, eyeing the pressure cooker suspiciously. “Is that a….?”

  “Pressure cooker? Yes!”

  She looked… how did she look? Nervous?

  “Isn’t it dangerous? Aren’t these the things that explode and burn you to a crisp?”

  “Well, that would be doing it the wrong way,” shared Cam. “It’s possible, yes. But it’s never exploded on me. Ever. And I’m not as patient about stove cooking. This is faster.”

  “Really?” she side-eyed him again, not quite convinced.

  “Geez Josie, maybe you could trust me with this?” He teased, “And with the dumplings, too? You’re gonna love it. Don’t forget, we’ve already cleared up the pea-position.”

  She smiled and then chuckled to herself as she reached for the lone wooden spoon in the canister on the counter. She brandished it at him.

  “All right, mister, but no more funny stuff! You’ve already blinded me, mentioned the worst-ever vegetable in the history of the universe, and brought out this alien, potentially explosive cooking device. This is all the ‘new’ I can take for tonight.”