Blue bowed her head. “I have to know. Even if it’s painful. It’s the least I can do for her, though, having the control to stay out of her life unless I’m welcomed in.”
“You sure you’re up for this, Blue?”
Blue. Should she change the name she’d acquired in prison? She couldn’t go back to Catherine Marie because Dilly would recognize it, and the wild, sensual woman called Cat had died in that convenience store.
Blue was a survivor, a woman who’d learned the price of flying high. Who’d paid for Cat’s follies and her fancies.
“What if she recognizes you? Do you really look different enough?”
Blue glanced at the mirror across the room, at the scarecrow she’d become, the hard, lean, muscled woman with the spiky blonde hair, worn short to remind her of the cost of vanity. Once she’d worn flowing clothes, her hair rippling down her back.” My hair color is the only thing, and I can fix that. There’s nothing of her left in me. It all got burned away long ago.” She smiled at her friend. “Prison will do that to you.”
Kitty gripped her hand. “You know I’m here, if it gets too hard. You’re asking a lot of yourself.”
Blue gripped her friend back. “I know it’s not going to be easy.” But something about it made her feel strong in a way she hadn’t before.
And if the worst happened and Dilly—Brenda—hated her, well…it wasn’t like she didn’t deserve the hatred.
“I’ll have my answers, at least.” She lifted her shoulders. “And maybe…” She shook her head. “Nope. Not getting lost in maybe.”
“I wish you luck, Blue.”
“I’ll need it.” She hugged her friend. “Thank you.” For a moment she closed her eyes and clung.
Then she straightened and rose to face the terrifying prospect of encountering her child.
The child she didn’t deserve. Had never deserved.
“So why exactly is it you want to learn cake decorating?” Spike asked in the kitchen of Ruby’s Dream. “Trying to move in on my territory?”
Henry shuffled his feet a little, but he couldn’t afford to disturb what he’d done so far. He could cook, yes, and he wasn’t bad at baking, but this…man, this stuff was tough.
“Henry?” An edge in her voice. “Are you?”
He frowned, then realized she was asking him a question. “What?”
“I said,” she huffed. “Are you trying to take my job?”
“Me? No!” He rolled his shoulders because they wanted to hunch. “Of course not. Nobody is as good as you at this stuff.”
“So why are you so intent on learning to make flowers?” Her gaze sharpened. “You’ve been up cooking since three a.m. It’s now nearly one a.m. The next day. There has to be a reason.” Her brows rose, then a slow, crafty smile spread. “It’s for Brenda, isn’t it? You’re making a cake for Brenda.”
“No, I’m not.” He bent again to the pick on which he was building a rose. In about three seconds, he was throwing this disaster against the wall. He huffed out a breath and stepped back. “I suck at these.”
“Then let me do them for you.”
“No,” he insisted. “I’m doing this myself.”
“For Brenda.”
His gaze whipped to hers. “No—why would I do that?”
“Maybe because you have crush on her that can be seen from space?”
He flushed and looked away. So what if he did? Whose business was it anyway? But it was more than a crush.
He exhaled, and his shoulders sagged. She was so young. A crush was more than she was ready for. Someday she’d spread her wings and fly far from here.
His brows snapped together. If Big D didn’t spirit her away first. The notion that she was having a video game tournament with the geeks right now had him gritting his teeth.
“Wow. A lot going on in that brain. I’m sorry if I made it worse.”
He glanced at her then. “She doesn’t even notice me.”
“Sure she does. You’re together all the time.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t be,” he said darkly. “I’m a piece of furniture.”
“Oh, Henry…” Spike’s voice went soft, and she gripped his upper arm. “That’s so not true. She looks at you as often as you look at her. One of these days, one of you is going to have to do more than look.”
Henry thought then of Brenda’s soft pink lips, of her fairy princess hair. Of how he wanted to be a big he-man like Bridger or Tank or Mackey or—He sighed. Anybody but skinny Henry Jansen. He wanted to be her white knight, to be her protector. To safeguard her sweetness and someday when she was older and he didn’t feel like a perv for wanting to touch her…
He studied the cake and wondered what the devil he was doing. None of those guys would be decorating a cake for their women. They’d braved gunshots and fires and showed themselves to be true heroes for the women they loved.
Loved. He knew some would say he and Brenda were too young—or at least, she was. That they couldn’t know their own minds yet.
But he knew. He loved Brenda Jones—or whatever her real name was. Somehow he thought that wasn’t it, and he’d passed many an hour in the kitchen trying to decide what name suited her. Until recently, though, he’d had no real reason to question that she was who she said she was—well, not any more than everyone in Sweetgrass, since most everyone found her a mystery and wanted to know more. But to push her might mean sending her fleeing, and he couldn’t stand the thought of all that had happened to her in the years after her mother left her. He sure didn’t want to think of her running again and being out in that world all alone.
She needed to stay in Sweetgrass where she would be safe and cared for. Where he could protect her.
He glanced down. By decorating a cake—yeah, right. With one swipe of his spatula, he scraped everything off, destroying what he’d done. “You’re right. I have to be at work in a couple of hours. I’m sorry I wasted your time.” He yanked off the apron and moved to the sink to start cleaning up the mess he’d made.
“Let me do that. I still have plenty of time to sleep, and I’m used to being up late, since the geeks usually are.” In addition to being the pastry chef for Ruby’s Dream, the high-end restaurant that catered to an out-of-town crowd and was only open three nights a week, she was in charge of the Enigma Games cantina and keeping Jackson’s geeks fed in odd hours.
He cast a loathing glance across the Square toward the building where he knew their game room took up the second floor. Where Brenda was, playing games with the geeks. “I’ll finish cleaning,” he said stubbornly.
“Henry, it doesn’t mean anything that she’s in there. She’s just a kid and she doesn’t know what she wants.”
Too bad he did. He bent to the washing.
But Spike insisted, nudging him out of the way from in front of the sink. “It won’t last, though. Those guys are only here because they want to work near Jackson. Sweetgrass is not their kind of place. And Big D is just a novelty.”
“Yeah.” But he didn’t believe it. What did he really know about Brenda anyway? She’d had a whole life before she was here, and she might have dreams she hadn’t shared.
“Come back, Henry, when you have time. I’d be glad to make it for you, but this is a special cake, isn’t it? One you should be the person to make.”
“It doesn’t matter.” But then he thought about all the foster homes Brenda had been in, and how she must have been on the road for her last birthday plus they’d already missed this one. No matter what his dreams were for her, they were at least friends, and he was the only person who knew what little of her story she’d shared. “I don’t know if she’d want a big deal being made of it, but Brenda turned eighteen in August. I don’t know how long it’s been since she had a birthday party, but from what I know, I think it’s been a long time.”
Spike smiled fondly. “You know everyone would love to celebrate her. And I think she’d be really pleased, even though I’m sure she’ll blush beet-red. Let me help
you, okay? I don’t have to be the one to make her cake, but I’d be really happy to do the whole thing if you’d prefer.” She smiled again. “You are the sweetest man, Henry Jansen. I don’t know if Brenda is grown up enough to latch onto the best person for her, but she sure should.”
“Sweet.” He practically spat the word.
“It’s not a bad word. And it doesn’t make you less manly. Hey, I please people all the time with sweet, right? Sweet is everybody’s favorite taste.”
“But sweet can make you sick to your stomach, too.” He scrubbed his a hand over his face. “I’m tired, and I’ve got a long day ahead of me. Don’t mind me.” He met her gaze. “I’ll think about talking to Scarlett and Ruby. And I probably should leave you to the cake, since you’re a thousand times better than I’ll ever be.”
“The thought is what matters, Henry. The intention. I’ll do it however you decide.”
“And you won’t tell anybody else yet? Or ever if I decide we shouldn’t?”
She mimed zipping her lips. “Mum’s the word.”
His head was too fuzzy to think straight right now. “Spike, thank you. I don’t know how to repay you.”
“Don’t give up on our girl, okay? I like the tradition of happy endings around here. I’m getting kinda hooked.” A sorrowful moment fled over her features, and he wondered why.
As quickly as it came, it left and she smiled. “ ’Night, Henry.”
He couldn’t resist a glance toward the building on the Square that housed the game room, but he wasn’t Brenda’s father, nor did he want to be, so he turned away and waved at Spike. “Thank you again.”
He went through the door into the deep night, wandering across the Square toward Ruby’s house, wondering how much longer Brenda would stay and how much fun she was having.
Just be patient.
He’d been patient for a year, the waiting made easier because he’d thought her too young, but now that he knew she was young but not jailbait…
Waiting’s not that easy to do, Spike. Not even for a slowpoke loser like me.
“It’s ridiculous that you won’t accept Hayley’s offer to bring you to L.A.” Brenda heard Ruby speaking in the kitchen when she arrived—late, for once. And miserable from lack of sleep. The video game tournament had lasted far into the night. She’d actually fallen asleep on the sofa watching after she’d been killed.
“It’s not ridiculous, Ruby. We don’t have enough help after the new candidate quit.”
“Chrissy and Brenda can handle things until we find someone.”
“Chrissy’s morning sickness is getting in the way.”
“It happens. She can’t help it—but it’s only a short-term problem. Brenda does a good job.”
“Brenda’s late. You know I’m the one you can count on,” Jeanette shot back.
“You intend to bury yourself in Sweetgrass forever?”
Brenda rounded the corner and saw Jeanette step back in shock.
Ruby’s attention shifted. “Not like you to be late, young lady.”
Brenda flushed. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually let myself hit the snooze button, but I was up too late. It won’t happen again.”
“You’re burning the candles at both ends with your work at the flower farm,” Jeanette observed, casting a look of triumph at Ruby.
“It’s not that. I was playing video games with the geeks.” She felt more than heard Henry stir from his spot at the grill and glanced over.
His normally calm expression was thunderous, but he quickly averted his gaze.
He looked tired, too.
“Those boys of Jackson’s stay up at all hours, I know,” Ruby commented. “But they don’t have to be here before six.”
Brenda wanted to shuffle her feet. “I know. I’m sorry. They wanted me to test out a new game,”
“I didn’t know you played video games,” Ruby said.
“I don’t. That was the problem. I had to learn the basics.”
Ruby grinned. “So how are you?”
“Terrible.”
Ruby laughed. “Did you hear our latest employee quit? She decided Sweetgrass wasn’t for her.”
“Which is why I’m not going to L.A.,” Jeanette stated.
“You’re so talented,” Brenda said. “Don’t you want to?”
Jeanette threw up her hands in disgust. “You, too?” She stalked away, headed to unlock the front door. “It’s time, people.”
Brenda glanced at Ruby, whose expression was sad. “I have to get enough help in here that she can feel okay about going. You need to be leaving, too, but I can’t spare you yet.”
“Leave?” Brenda’s heart thudded. “Why?”
“Not Sweetgrass, honey.” Ruby’s hand patted hers. “You’re always welcome here. But Veronica’s kidding herself if she thinks she’s going to return to the flower farm full-time when she has twin babies and the other set of twins to raise. Besides, you’re wasted here. You do good work, but it’s not what you love.”
“Ruby, I won’t leave you. You—” Her throat crowded. “You saved me. You gave me a place.” And regardless that what Ruby said was right, Brenda felt a little panic rise. She’d become so comfortable here.
“Hon, I couldn’t spare you if I wanted to, not right now. I’m just saying that this isn’t your long-term plan. You and your flowers—have you ever thought about opening a flower shop?”
“Me?” She had, she definitely had, but where would she ever get the money?
“Brenda, you planning to work today?” Jeanette complained.
“No time to discuss now, honey, but I’d appreciate it if you’d keep an eye out for a couple of new waitresses to train. Ask around, would you? And once things get sorted out, we’ll talk about your future.” Ruby grinned. “Now you’d best get out front before Jeanette skins both of us.”
Brenda smiled back even as her eyes stung. “I love you, Ruby. And I’ll never leave you.”
“You will,” the older woman said. “But I’m not letting you stray too far, don’t ever think that.”
As she walked into the dining room, warmed by the sense of being wanted, Brenda glanced back at Henry, who was staring at her over the pass-through.
She smiled shyly, unsure what his expression meant, so intense was his regard.
He smiled back, though he was clearly worried.
She felt the blush warming her cheeks as she turned away to get to work.
As he took the first order, Henry’s hands worked on their own while he looked over at Ruby and saw her smiling.
“You want her to stay, too, don’t you?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Sure, I guess.”
Ruby snorted. “Guess, my fanny. You think these old eyes can’t see that heart you’re wearing on your sleeve?”
“She’s young, Ruby.”
“So are you—so what?”
“She deserves a chance to go after her dreams.”
“Based on that blush, I don’t think she’s real motivated to go away.” Ruby’s gaze sharpened. “Has she said anything to you about leaving?”
“No—just the opposite. She feels safe here.”
“Good.” A pause, though Ruby kept working, too. “Do you know what she’s so scared of?”
“Sort of. But I can’t—”
“It’s all right. I understand. We all have secrets. But you’d tell me if there was anything I needed to do, wouldn’t you?”
He nodded. Opened his mouth to speak, then closed it.
“What? Is there something wrong? Something I can help with?”
Surely sharing this would be okay. “Her birthday was in August. She just turned eighteen.”
Ruby clucked her tongue. “I had a feeling she was underage, but she was like a scared little rabbit when she arrived, and I was afraid she’d run if I pressed her. She didn’t even finish high school, then.”
He hadn’t considered that. “I don’t think so. She was running away.”
“Well, that I did k
now. Doesn’t take a genius to see that. Anything we need to be worried about for her? Or something that needs fixing?”
“I don’t think so. She doesn’t have any family. Her mother abandoned her, and she never knew her dad.”
Just then Jeanette arrived to pick up an order, followed by Brenda.
He couldn’t meet Brenda’s gaze when she said thank you.
In the pause that followed her departure, Ruby spoke again. “So what is it I can help with?”
He glanced over. “I don’t think she’s ever had a birthday party, or not in a long time.”
“You want to throw her one?”
He shrugged. “I do, but—”
“But what?”
“She’s shy. I don’t know if she’d love it or if it would scare her half to death.”
Ruby pursed her lips. “That’s a legitimate question.” She cocked her head, staring out toward the girl in question. “I think she feels safe here at the cafe—you agree?”
He nodded.
“So maybe if we made it part of a work day instead of some big to-do special occasion—”
“She deserves special, though,” he insisted.
“That she does. So you think a surprise party might not send her burrowing into a hole somewhere?”
“I wish I knew. I just really want—”
“Maybe the two of you should have a private celebration.”
“Oh, I don’t think—” She’d know then, for sure, how much he felt for her, how often he thought of her. It might be too much.
Ruby chuckled. “Young man, you have got it bad, don’t you?”
He grimaced. “I shouldn’t.”
“You’re her best friend in the world, seems to me.”
“Maybe not,” he said darkly. “She didn’t stay up half the night with me.”
“She’s a young woman, coming into her own. Big D comes from a different world, and that’s a heady thing.”
“I know that.”
“I wasn’t finished.” she snapped. “Faint heart ne’er won fair maid.”
He paid close attention to the eggs he was frying, more attention than they warranted. “Scarlett already said something like that, but—”
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