A Cowboy to Remember

by Rebekah Weatherspoon

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Like I said. Give me a few days.”

  Zach didn’t like it, but he knew Nicole was right. They had no proof of anything, and Evie had no memory. Hopefully, Nicole could get some answers and they could fill Evie in. If Melanie wasn’t involved, at the very least Nicole could get her off Evie’s back and out of her DMs.

  Zach set down his phone and turned off his light. It would take a few minutes for the alertness caused by his loud-as-fuck ringer and his call from Nicole to fade. He made a new plan. Talk to Jesse and Evie. Talk to Miss Leona. Then carry on with the rest of his day as planned. But first he needed at least another hour of sleep. Which he would have gotten if his phone hadn’t started ringing again.

  He looked at the screen. It was the ranch.

  * * *

  Evie tossed and turned all night, waking herself up every time she rolled too hard to her right and agitated her stitches. Each time she’d fall back asleep she’d find herself in the midst of a different, but equally horrible, vivid dream. She couldn’t remember them all, just bits and pieces. So many faces she didn’t recognize and more strange places, miles and miles of desert and burning fields. And just like before, right by her side or just out of her reach, there was that cowboy with his devastating smile, only this time she knew his name and it only made it more frustrating when her mind had her running through a vine maze, trying to seek him out.

  The other bits and pieces of the night that still left her raw? She didn’t know what to make of them. Her mind, her memory were still in chaos, and clearly whatever part Melanie Burns had to play in her life wasn’t helping with any sort of clarity.

  When Vega came in to check on her, waking her just before noon, she realized she’d overslept. She tried to be polite as Vega took her blood pressure, but the weight of her dreams felt like it was still crushing her. She knew if she said anything she might cry, so she waited quietly until Vega was done.

  She gave Evie’s arm a light squeeze. “You’re all set. Miss Leona is waiting for you in the kitchen.”

  “Oh, crap. She was probably thinking I’d be up in time to make breakfast. I’ll get dressed.”

  “I’m going to take a walk to the end of that seven-mile-long driveway and back,” Vega said as she put away her stethoscope. “Then I think I might sit in the garden for a while. I’m sorry, but I love this place.”

  Evie smiled. “Me too.”

  When she was alone again, she checked her phone. She had a few text alerts. She braved a look at her conversation with Blaire and Raquelle and saw the messages Vega had sent the night before, politely relaying that Evie was turning in for the night and that she’d talk to them soon. She considered texting them herself, but decided against it. She didn’t have the energy to handle Raquelle’s well-intentioned apologies. The rest of the texts were from Zach. Early morning fire to put out over at the ranch. Raincheck on that good morning kiss.

  The text was sent hours earlier, probably in the middle of Evie’s tenth bizarre dream of the night. There’s no way she would have been in any condition for a pre-dawn smooch session, but still Evie’s heart sank. Her growing feelings for Zach seemed so simple. She was drawn to him, and even with Jesse’s warnings something deep down told her that Zach was a man she absolutely wanted in her life. That good-morning kiss would have done a lot to lift her funk. She sat back in her bed and responded to his text. Hope everything’s okay. My schedule is very full though. Please check with my assistant to reschedule some kissing.

  She reread the message to herself before she hit Send. She wondered if other women put this much effort into texting guys. She’d ask Blaire. She got as far as undressing for a quick shower when her phone vibrated on her sheets. Another text from Zach.

  Zach: Just a broken industrial freezer during a very busy weekend. We got it under control. I’ll draft a formal request to your assistant. Shortly.

  Evie: Please do. I am a very busy woman.

  Zach: I’m busy over here thinking about how I’d much rather be spending my day with you.

  She knew she was playing with fire, but she drafted one more risky text, just to see how far this could go. A whole day of not doing reverse cowgirl? I told you, I’m all about the face-to-face.

  Zach immediately responded with a GIF of a man passionately kissing a woman all along her throat. The expression on the woman’s face was so over-the-top, Evie tried to hold in her snort of laughter and failed miserably. But the longer she stared at the GIF the more she thought about the possibilities. Her dreams had ruined her night. Her dreams and some extremely unnerving direct messages from Melanie Burns, but just talking with Zach turned things around. It wasn’t as good as a kiss, but flirty texts from Zach Pleasant were something she could get used to. If this was what it was like to be with him all the time, this light buzzy feeling, she might be in trouble, the kind of trouble Nicole had warned her about. She’d worry about that another time. She sent one more text. Yes, just like that. That’s what I want. *winky emoji*

  * * *

  Evie found Miss Leona waiting for her at the kitchen island. She had the framed pictures Evie had set aside, lined up on the counter. Evie’s other boxes were stacked near the door.

  She wasn’t sure if Miss Leona heard her enter the room. She stood there in another one of her flowy, two-piece ensembles in a lovely bright green. She had on a longer wig, the blond-streaked curls falling around her shoulders. Evie wondered for a moment when she would get back to being somewhat fashionable, if ever. For now her jeans and slouchy sweatshirt would have to do.

  “Good morning,” Evie said.

  Miss Leona turned and smiled at her before she turned her attention back to the photos. “Good morning, baby.”

  Evie joined her at the counter and looked at the black-and-white photo that seemed to have Miss Leona’s full attention. She recognized a young Miss Leona sitting at a round table in an elegant scoop-neck gown. Beside her was a much younger version of her own grandmother. In most of the photos she’d seen of her nana she was sporting jeans, a flannel shirt, and some rugged boots. Her hair was pulled back or under a weathered hat, but in this photo she looked downright glamorous, her big, slick curls wrapped in a pretty up-do.

  “That’s your grandmother Amelia and your grandfather Justice. And that’s my Gerald and me in all my postpartum glory.” She gestured to her face with a flourish.

  “You’d just had a baby?” Evie looked at the picture a little closer. She didn’t have any specific memories of any pregnant women in mind, but she had a sense women who just gave birth never looked that good.

  “Yes, my oldest son, Gerald Jr. That’s Lilah’s daddy. He and his Denise live up in wine country. We went out to The Orange Grove that night. A fancy place near the beach. We had to wait until the second show to get in because we were colored,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “But we had a blast.”

  “Were you celebrating anything in particular that night, or just enjoying some time out?”

  “Just a night out.” Miss Leona fell silent again.

  “You were really close?” Evie asked.

  “Thick as thieves. Your grandmother and I couldn’t be more different. Give me gowns and wigs any day, and Amelia just really loved being around animals, but our friendship just worked. I don’t think we would have taken over this ranch without your grandparents’ emotional support.”

  “What do you miss the most about them?”

  “Watching your grandfather ride. My Gerald was an amazing horse trainer. He could get a filly to two-step sideways back into her own stall, but your granddaddy was born in the saddle. It was impressive to see. And your grandma? I miss the way she could always make me laugh.”

  “She was funny?”

  “Oh, and she was quick. Girl. When your grandfather proposed, she told him she had no use for a husband, but if he stayed out of her hair she’d let him stick around.”

  “Did they love each other? Did she love him?” Evie wondered ou
t loud as her fingers touched the edge of the frame.

  “They did. Very much. We had our own little bubble. Whatever horrible thing was happening in the world, any bit of bad news any of us got, when we were together, everything was alright. I miss them very much.”

  Evie looked at the photo: her grandmother’s face and her grandfather’s hand on her shoulder. She looked at the four of them so happy together. She’d had so much fun spending time with everyone here at Pleasant Lane, and it had only been a few days. What must it be like to have a friendship that lasted years and years and then to lose all of those people? Evie leaned over and wrapped her arms around Miss Leona’s shoulders.

  “I wish I could remember them.”

  Miss Leona patted her arm. “You will one day, baby. I’m sure of it.”

  They stood that way for a few moments, looking at the photos, thinking their own thoughts. What would her grandmother tell her to do now? What would she want for Evie? There was no way of knowing, but Miss Leona was here now, and Evie knew that was a pretty great substitute.

  She stepped away, giving the older woman her personal space back. Miss Leona let out a deep sigh, then seemed to reset herself, like she was getting back into character for the next scene of the day.

  “Okay, now I usually cook a big Sunday dinner, but I’m going up to Los Angeles tonight for a few days.”

  “Oh? Alright. So this will be our last lesson for a few days.” Evie shouldn’t be surprised, but she was. Miss Leona was a literal movie star. Of course she had a life.

  “While I’m gone, I want you to try to make one dish a day. You don’t need your teacher to practice. Lilah will be here to supervise. And I’m sure Vega knows how to use a fire extinguisher in a pinch,” Miss Leona joked. Sort of. “I’d rather keep my hind parts right here, but I need to show my face at an event and I’m overdue for a visit with some of my people. I’ll be back on Tuesday. Lilah and Vega will be here with you.”

  “And Zach and Jesse?” Evie asked before she could stop herself. She’d be more than fine alone with the girls.

  “They’ll be around, but the ranch is very busy this weekend with it being New Year’s Eve, and some fancy so-and-so is having a wedding. And I believe Zachariah is filling in at the exhibition today.”

  “What’s the exhibition?”

  “They do a bit of a sample rodeo. Just a few events for the guests. Roping, riding, barrel racing, things like that. Zach does a bit of trick riding.”

  The thought of Zach doing tricks in the saddle made Evie hot all over for some reason she couldn’t explain. She thought it might be best not to fan herself right in front of Miss Leona. “Oh, okay,” she said instead.

  “For now, girlfriend. We’re making French toast.”

  A wave of relief replaced the pulse of Zach-induced lust heat that rushed over her. She wasn’t ready to return to a professional kitchen, not by a long shot, but cooking with Miss Leona gave her more than a comforting distraction from the bizarre reality of her life. It gave her a purpose, a challenge she was eager to face with a delicious payoff.

  “I’m ready,” Evie said, confidence backing her voice.

  “Great. Go get yourself a few eggs.”

  * * *

  “Are chickens always this vicious?” Evie asked, eyeing the small nick on her hand as she walked back into the chicken coop. She’d done her best to sweet-talk the fat feathered birds as she entered their coop, but the one with the white and gray feathers had taken real offense at her attempt to gather eggs. Evie caught a beak on the back of her hand.

  “Bertie,” Mrs. Leona said, making a little tsking noise as she shook her head. “Sorry, I should have warned you. She can be a little moody every now and then. How’s your hand?”

  Evie stopped and let Miss Leona gently examine the scratch.

  “Didn’t break the skin. That’s good,” she said.

  “I think my ego is more bruised than anything. She scared me,” Evie said with a trembling laugh.

  “Next time, I’ll show how to sweet-talk little Bertie. Come wash your hands and let’s get started.”

  Miss Leona was more hands-off with this lesson. Taking a seat at the island, she directed Evie as she slowly and carefully moved around the kitchen gathering her ingredients. A thick loaf of brioche, milk, vanilla extract, which Evie was also very fond of, but the striking scent still didn’t match the warm kiss and hug she felt from the nutmeg when she first untwisted the lid on its small glass shaker.

  She unscrewed the lid and brought the brown powder to her nose. Her eyes fluttered shut as the aroma hit her senses. “Oh, I like that.”

  “You’ll get to know your seasoning and your spices again. Every chef needs their nutmeg. Let’s get your dredge going.” Miss Leona handed her a plate with raised edges, then nodded toward the milk.

  “May I ask a silly question?” Evie asked as she started cracking her eggs. So much had happened in the last few days, but now that she was back in Miss Leona’s company, she couldn’t help but think of her films.

  “No such thing, my dear. Go right ahead.”

  “When we were watching Glory in the Night—never mind.” She suddenly felt so silly. There was no way she could talk to Miss Leona about this. She would sound so immature and maybe a little rude. She wasn’t the person to help her fill in the cracks of insecurity she was having in her prospective love life.

  “Come out with it, girl. This right here, this is part of having your own kitchen. Cooking and talking shit. Out with it.”

  Laughter sputtered out of Evie.

  “Okay. Well.” Evie went on, choosing her words wisely. She’d really enjoyed Seeds in the Sunshine, but she’d loved Glory in the Night. She’d kept her initial reaction to the steamy romance to herself, but now she had questions. “You and the man who played John Daly had such chemistry. How—how did you pull that off? I mean I know you were acting, but I’m just trying to picture what it’s like to pretend.”

  “Baby girl, you don’t know just how much acting I did. Wayne Westwood, the man who played John Daly? Horrible, horrible man.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yes. He treated me like complete dirt during that whole production. I won’t repeat some of the things he said, but he had even more choice words for me after I won the Oscar and he wasn’t even nominated.”

  “How did you get through it?” Evie asked.

  “I met my Gerald on that shoot. He was the animal wrangler. I’d never ridden a horse before and he helped me learn during preproduction. By the time principal photography began, I was already half in love. During all my scenes with John Daly I would just picture Gerald holding me in his strong arms.”

  “That’s really romantic,” Evie said, right before she splashed a bit of the milk mixture over the edge of the bowl. “Shoot.”

  “Here.” Miss Leona was quick to hand her a paper towel. Evie cleaned up her little spill, then grabbed the nutmeg. She held it up to her nose, smelling it again and again, and didn’t realize how long she’d been interrupting her own lesson until she turned and saw Miss Leona staring at her with a tiny smirk on her face.

  “Sorry.”

  “Let’s heat your pan.”

  “Which do you like better?” Evie asked as she turned one of the front burners on the Viking range up to medium. “Film or television?”

  “Whichever one is paying my bills,” she said with a nod. “I’m two hundred and twelve years old and people are still paying to put my name on a call sheet. As long as the work is good, I’m grateful to be there—Now take your bread and dunk it in the milk, just like that.”

  Evie followed her instructions, soaking the thick pieces of brioche. She wondered how long it would be before she could carry on a conversation and effortlessly move around the kitchen.

  “But things are so different now. I love working on Rory’s. In my day there were so few brown faces running things when you walked on set, and now we have a Black woman producing, a Black showrunner, all kinds of p
eople in the writers’ room. Evie, it’s wonderful.”

  Evie glanced over, smiling. “That sounds like fun. It sounds welcoming.”

  “It is. And it keeps me young, being surrounded by all of these different young people. Watching them work together and learn from each other. I’m a lucky girl.”

  “I wonder what it was like for me on my show.”

  “When you’re ready, you can watch it.”

  “I should do that.” Evie placed the first piece of bread in the warm pan and watched as the edges started to slowly brown.

  “You smell that?” Miss Leona asked.

  “It’s the nutmeg?”

  Miss Leona’s wink was all the answer she needed.

  Chapter 15

  Evie felt like she’d made her first real big decision. Uncertainty and hesitation seemed to follow her around as she waited for everyone around to give her cues and instructions about what she should do next, what she should think, where she should go, but finally she found herself fully in command of the direction her heart and mind wanted her to go.

  Evie was in love with nutmeg.

  She’d taken note of the way a fry pan could transform the pungent odor of onions or bring out this certain sweetness from butter as it melted and browned, but nutmeg? Whatever her life was like before her accident, Evie knew she’d known no greater love than what she was currently feeling for the wonderful brown spice.

  After Evie made enough French toast for her own late breakfast—it was very good, warm and sweet and buttery in the best possible way—and for Miss Leona to taste test, Vega expressed some interest in a second breakfast when she returned from her walk with three of the four dogs, so Evie made some more. And more for Lilah when she appeared from her room and wanted to give Evie’s handiwork a try and then more with the remaining bread for Corie when she returned from her trip into town.

  Vega helped her with cleanup, then Evie found herself drawn back to that nutmeg. She joined Vega and Lilah on the couch, where Lilah brought up the first season of Supreme Chef. She suggested they ease Evie into it before jumping to her seasons. Evie watched a dozen chefs from around the country compete for cash prizes and a chance to present an international food festival.