by Meg Maxwell
“West, Timmy’s been having some issues at school, acting out, and I think it’s because his brother’s birthday is coming up and it’s reminding him of the accident and the loss all over again. I remember you saying that you started some kind of therapeutic pony riding program for Lucy back when her mother died and that it helped. Are you still running that program?”
“Truth be told, I never really had a program. I just did it with Lucy myself at our ranch. But I’d be happy to do the same for Timmy. Twice a week for as long as it takes.”
“Can we start right away? How’s Wednesday?”
West could hear the desperation in Jonathan’s voice. “Wednesday’s fine. Right after school. Would it help if Lucy’s there on her own pony or do you think Timmy would prefer that it’s just him?”
“Oh, I think he’d like having Lucy there, see her doing it and all that.”
After they hung up, West went back to the barn. He had four ponies—one, Starlight, was Lucy’s—and he always had a few on hand for sale. Back when his brother died, West rode his favorite horse, Donald, who his parents had given to him as a foal when West was seven. West had named him after an old hand of his father’s, a wizened man who was always kind to West, teaching him about horses and cattle and how you can tell the weather by the scent of the air, by the wind, by how your knees felt. When the news came of Garrett’s death, West had ridden Donald for hours, stopping only to give Donald a break. On one of those breaks, Annabel had found him, crying like a baby on the flat-topped boulder he always used as a destination, somewhere to go when he had nowhere to go, nothing to do. The boulder used to be on town land, but when West’s ranch had begun doing well and then really started becoming profitable, he bought more acreage and now that boulder was on his property. He liked that.
Timmy McNeal. He thought of that little blond seven-year-old with his tear-streaked face, his older brother gone in a stupid four-wheeler accident. West kicked himself for not thinking of offering Timmy the structured pony rides; he’d been so focused on Lucy, her howls scaring him so deeply that he didn’t know if he was coming or going half the time. She’d scream in the middle of breakfast, while eating a piece of toast, just sit there screaming for her mother. And the pony rides helped. He’d had her pick out her own pony and she’d gone right for a beautiful chestnut Haflinger with a white mane and tail and named her Starlight. Daisy, their beagle, had been a huge source of comfort for Lucy, but something about the whole process—getting atop the small horse, learning to ride, the connection between them, grooming her and caring for her—slowly worked its magic.
West looked over at the four ponies grazing in the side pasture and decided to let Timmy choose his own among the three available. His stomach growled and he went inside the house and straight into the kitchen. The refrigerator was a surprise—so full and organized. Thank you, Annabel Hurley Montgomery. He’d never seen anything like it. He was so hungry he scarfed down a banana, then grabbed the folder of lunch recipes from the neat stack on the counter near the cookbooks Annabel had brought over. He flipped through them for chicken salad and smiled at the parenthesis: (Gram Hurley’s fifty-year-old secret recipe.) The sooner he learned how to make a decent sandwich, a decent dinner, the way he’d done okay with breakfast that morning, the sooner he could appease the Dunkins and set Annabel free. After all she’d done for him, he owed her that much.
No matter what feeling she stirred in his gut, in his head, in his heart...and other places. She’d done him the favor of all favors, and throwing money at Hurley’s could never begin to repay her. She deserved better than him, just as his parents had once said. And he was going to make sure she got better. So even though his appetite wasn’t exactly as strong as it had been before he started thinking about Annabel and having to let her go someday, he ripped apart the chicken, which helped, then studied the recipe and got out the ingredients. Stupid chicken salad was Annabel’s ticket to a better life, a better man. A different man.
* * *
Annabel sat in the office at Hurley’s, going over the books, the experience a lot different with commas in the restaurant’s bank balance. Just a few days ago, she’d stared at the Excel program her gram had painstakingly learned and had her stomach in knots. Now Annabel was perusing sites for dishware etched with cowboys and cacti, for heavier silverware that felt good in the hand, and collecting names of carpenters for the addition she was thinking about.
Her phone rang and she hoped it was Raina, letting her know she’d changed her mind, that girls’ day should be just Nana and grandchild. But it wasn’t Raina. Georgia’s Houston number flashed on the tiny screen.
Annabel jumped up. “Georgia!”
“Annabel, I’m so sorry I’ve been out of touch,” her older sister said, and relief at hearing Georgia’s voice swept through Annabel. “Is Gram all right? Please tell me she’s all right.”
“Well, she’s not a hundred percent and tests were inconclusive. On doctor’s orders she’s been resting this past week, taking it easy, but she got the go-ahead at this morning’s appointment to get back on her feet, take walks, do some light cooking.”
Georgia was silent, but Annabel knew her sister was crying and trying very hard not to be heard. “I’m so happy to hear that.”
“Georgia, what’s keeping you in Houston? Something must be going on. Right?”
“Right. But please don’t worry. I’m figuring things out and I’ll be home as soon as I can. I promise. Please tell Gram and Clem not to worry. I just need to take care of some things here, okay?”
Annabel trusted Georgia; she was the smartest, most levelheaded person Annabel knew. If Georgia said not to worry, Annabel would try very hard not to. She’d come home when she could.
“It’s so good to hear your voice, Annabel. So, so good.”
“Yours too, Georgia. I love you.”
Her sister was quiet again, and Annabel knew she’d made her cry. “Love you too, Annabel. Bye for now.”
When Georgia clicked off, Annabel held the phone against her heart and said a little prayer for her sister, then went to tell her grandmother and Clem that she’d heard from Georgia and that she sounded all right and was wrapping up some personal business she couldn’t talk about. Clementine was sure it had to do with a man. Gram said it might be business related, since Georgia was an executive.
And that was when Annabel got either a very good or a very bad idea in her head. She grabbed her purse and headed down Blue Gulch Street to the police station before she could change her mind. The secretary at the front desk called over Detective Nick Slater and one look at the dark-haired, dark-eyed cop with the intense expression, and Annabel figured he’d tell her Georgia was an adult, sorry, nothing he could do. But it turned out that Detective Slater was going to Houston in two weeks for a police academy reunion, and he’d check things out while he was in the city. Since he didn’t know Georgia, he asked that Annabel text him a few recent photos of her and addresses of where she lived and worked. Annabel was so grateful she wished she could do something special for the cop, but the best she could do was offer him dinner for two on the house at Hurley’s.
She left the police station feeling so much better that she was ready to face Raina Dunkin.
* * *
So far, so good. Annabel, Raina and Lucy sat on a colorful padded bench in Sierra’s Smoothie Shop, a tiny juice bar near the library, awaiting their drinks. Lucy’s kiddie-sized strawberry-banana smoothie was ready first, but when the barista called it out, Raina wagged her finger at Lucy.
“A little lady with nice manners waits for everyone’s drinks to be ready,” Raina told her.
“Okay, Nana,” Lucy said, her big hazel eyes on the pink-red smoothie on the counter.
Finally two larger smoothies appeared on the counter. Annabel also ordered strawberry-banana and Raina chose mixed berry.
“Now
, Nana?” Lucy asked, and at her grandmother’s nod she hurried over and picked up her drink with two hands, took a sip and then headed over to the far side of the shop where a giant abacus with brightly colored beads stood in the corner.
Raina took a sip of her drink. “Ah, isn’t that refreshing?” She took another sip, leaving her red lipstick on the straw. “A few weeks ago Landon and I passed by this shop and Lucy and West were in here, so we stopped to say hello. Do you believe West let Lucy order the chocolate-coconut? All sugar. No wonder she runs around like a crazy little boy.”
Annabel hoped she hadn’t rolled her eyes, which had been her immediate response. “Well, I’m a firm believer in all things in moderation.”
Raina tucked a swath of her ash-blond hair behind her ear. “I suppose. But if West had ordered a fruit-based smoothie for himself—the way you did—Lucy would have too, as she did today. Instead he ordered chocolate, so of course she wanted it. He’s always making poor choices like that.”
“From what I’ve seen, West is very committed to Lucy’s health. He made a great breakfast this morning—eggs, bacon, whole wheat toast, fruit cup. No chocolate pudding anywhere to be seen.”
Raina made her trademark sneer. “That’s your influence, Annabel.” She patted Annabel’s hand, her gaze on the diamond wedding band. “That’s a lovely ring. I’m so relieved you married West and will be guiding our little Lucy. I can tell you had a hand in helping Lucy get dressed this morning. I bought that adorable dress for her a few months ago.”
Annabel smiled. “Her closet is full of pretty clothes. But I guess West isn’t up on little girl fashion the way Lorna had been. I had to explain to him what leggings are.”
Instead of responding, Raina turned her attention to Lucy and called out, “Lucy, let’s head over to the library and pick out a few books. We can finish our drinks on the way.”
Interesting. The woman changed the subject whenever her daughter’s name came up. Was talking about Lorna too painful?
At the library, Lucy picked out three books, then sat on her nana’s lap, her head leaning against Raina’s chest as Raina read, with great feeling, from a picture book about a beagle.
“Beagles are my favorite kind of dog,” Lucy said, tapping the two illustrations of the beagle on the page.
Raina kissed the top of Lucy’s head. “I know. That’s why I wanted to read this book. You’re lucky to have such a sweet beagle at home.”
“I gave Daisy only one bite of my eggs this morning,” Lucy whispered. “I used to feed her a lot more, but Daddy cooks so good now.”
Raina winked at Annabel and gave Lucy a kiss on the cheek. “I’m very glad to hear that. Annabel must be a very good cooking teacher.”
Lucy shot Annabel a big grin. “Can you read more, Nana?”
Annabel watched grandmother and granddaughter, confused by Raina Dunkin. One minute she was insufferable, putting down West or complaining about a chocolate smoothie, and the next she was being absolutely lovely.
When Raina finished reading, Lucy darted off her lap and raced over to shelves of picture books. “Lucy, little ladies don’t conduct themselves that way. Come back here and sit on my lap and slide off properly, then walk to the shelf.”
“Yes, Nana,” Lucy said, walking back over, climbing onto her grandmother’s lap, then gingerly hopping off and walking slowly over to the shelf and pulling out a book.
Back to insufferable in five seconds flat, Annabel thought.
“Raina! How lovely to see you,” came a voice Annabel thought she recognized. She glanced over at the woman, similar age to Raina, kissing her on the cheek, a little boy holding a small truck beside her. “Oh, look at darling Lucy. She looks so much like Lorna, doesn’t she?”
Raina gave the woman a tight smile, then glanced at Annabel. “We’d better run, Annabel. Lucy, come, dear.” She turned to the woman. “So nice to see you. Give my best to Dave.” Then she hurried Annabel and Lucy toward the checkout desk, making small talk with the librarian.
Outside, Raina seemed back to herself, chatting with Lucy about school and her teacher. As they were nearing Hurley’s, across the street, Lucy called out, “It’s your restaurant, Annabel.”
Annabel looked over at the apricot Victorian shining in the sun, the new sign so much more welcoming than the peeling one had been. “Tomorrow when I’m cooking at lunchtime, I’m going to bring you and Daddy some of our delicious mac and cheese.”
Raina looked shocked. “Surely you’re not returning to that hot kitchen. Your place is at the ranch, looking after the house and Lucy.”
Annabel knew full well that Raina Dunkin had been a real estate agent for two decades, all during Lorna’s childhood, so surely she understood that some mothers and stepmothers chose to work or needed to work. Something else was motivating Raina, underneath all this...prissiness, but Annabel didn’t know what and couldn’t put her finger on what was poking at her.
“I’m going to be working at Hurley’s part-time at lunch to keep my hand in,” Annabel explained. “And taking on more of a managerial role.”
Raina lifted her chin. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with caring for Lucy.”
Annabel had to remember that she’d married West to save his family. Arguing with Raina over staying home or working full-time or part-time wasn’t appropriate. Her marriage wasn’t real. So her conversations with Raina should follow suit.
Wait a minute. That was absolutely unacceptable. She wasn’t going to pretend to be something she wasn’t. She was married to West—that wasn’t a lie. She would be herself, holding her tongue if it didn’t really make a difference. But now was a time to hold her tongue.
“Mrs. Dunkin! How nice to see you!”
That was a voice Annabel would never forget. A high-pitched drawl that used to mock Annabel back in high school. Francie Heff, who’d been one of Lorna’s best friends. Annabel hadn’t even noticed that they’d stopped right in front of the storefront where Clyde Heff would be opening his Burgertopia and stealing business from Hurley’s.
Francie’s gaze went right to Annabel’s ring. “So it’s not just some crazy rumor. You really are married to West Montgomery!” She tapped Lucy’s nose as some sort of greeting.
“I really am,” Annabel said, forcing a smile.
“Annabel is a wonderful stepmama to our sweet Lucy,” Raina said, squeezing Lucy into a hug.
Francie looked Annabel up and down with something of a sneer, then turned to Raina. “Well, Mrs. Dunkin, I still expect you and Mr. Dunkin to come eat at my daddy’s new burger café. We’re going to have a big grand opening on Friday—doors open at four-thirty. I hope you’ll both come. Of course, I won’t expect you, Annabel, since our goal is to run Hurley’s right out of business.” She laughed as though she were making a joke, but she clearly wasn’t. She smiled at Lucy, bending her knees, her hands on her hips. “I’ll bet you like hamburgers. I’m going to have a special kids’ menu. Oh my, you look so much like Lorna. I miss my old friend so much. You poor baby, Lucy. You must miss your mama something fierce. Tell you what. On opening day, you come and I’ll make a special burger just for you.”
Lucy could barely muster a smile.
“Thank you, Francie,” Raina said. “I’m not sure of our schedule, but if we’re free of course we’ll come. Give my best to your father.” Raina held tightly to Lucy’s hand and hurried her down the street, Annabel following quickly.
One glance at Lucy and she could see the girl’s face crumpling. “I do miss Mommy.”
“Now, now,” Raina said, patting Lucy’s back. “You have Annabel to take good care of you. I can see she adores you.”
That was all true and well and good, but it didn’t address the fact that Lucy was crying about her mother, and her grandmother was dismissing that.
But Annabel wouldn’t. She kneeled down in f
ront of Lucy. “Honey, it’s okay to cry and miss your mother. I miss my mother too.” She pulled Lucy into a hug.
A few seconds later, Raina said, “Well, it’s five, so I’d better head home. Give your nana a big ol’ hug, my sweet girl,” she said to Lucy. Lucy sniffled and very robotically hugged her grandmother. “I’ll see you both on Sunday for dinner—at your house, honey,” she added to Lucy.
Then she turned on her heel and headed down Blue Gulch Street, her shoulders stiff, Annabel thought.
There was more to Raina Dunkin than met the ol’ eye. That much Annabel knew for sure.
Chapter Ten
After playing tea party with Lucy and her Eeyore collection, West went down into the kitchen to find Annabel. From the look on her face when she’d come in an hour ago from her girls’ day with Raina and Lucy, he figured she’d experienced a little bit of his world.
Annabel was standing in front of the sink. He came up behind her and peered over her shoulder. She was scrubbing baking potatoes. He breathed in the scent of her and wanted to lift her silky auburn hair and kiss the back of her neck. She wore jeans and a yellow sleeveless shirt and was barefoot, her toes a bright pink with orange dots, which he assumed was Lucy’s doing. He smiled, imagining his little girl’s delight in polishing Annabel’s nails.
“I’ll do that,” he said, forcing his attention from the curve of her hips to what she was doing, then taking the scrub brush. He wanted to do all the cooking while he had Annabel here to teach him. “Never knew you were supposed to clean potatoes. I just usually run them under water and toss them in the oven.”
Annabel slid over a bit, leaning against the counter. “Well, to be honest, most everything I do in the kitchen is because that’s how my mama did it. Then when my grandmother took me in, I learned her ways also. Now I have a mishmash.”