by Tanya Hanson
“If you don’t mind…” Ma set down the jars and shuffled over to a tall baker’s rack where she’d shelved her cookbooks. Most times she and Kelley could whip up a dish solely on description or imagination, but cookbooks were highly respected literature in the Martin kitchen. “I was peeking around these old books, and I found a blueberry recipe you just might like to try. Cuts out a few steps if you’re rushed. Tapioca, no sugar, and you add a hint of basil…”
She paged through the book before she sat it down on the butcher block island.
“Can’t believe anybody’d call themselves Snowy September,” Ma harrumphed, rolling her eyes at the author’s name.
Kelley almost hooted out loud as she pondered the the silly, somehow familiar names. Ma had Jason’s mother’s cookbook? She’d have to tell him about the coincidence.
“...but she’s got some good stuff in here. All organic and herbal. Got this book from my Aunt Grace.” Ma hooted joyously. “You should have seen your pa, first time I cooked out of this thing. Too California, he called it. You know him. A cattleman who loved his side dishes of beans, fried potatoes, and once in a while, a green salad. Green salad meaning green Jello with bananas.”
“Don’t forget the celery.” Kelley barked out a laugh as she stirred the skillet. “Pa’s version of a green vegetable.”
“Well, you sure changed his mind on that.” Ma howled back. “Never thought I’d see that man of mine eat asparagus and spinach. Quiche yet.”
Kelley shared her humor as she drained the sautéed celery-onion mixture and dumped it into a big pot of sauce. Her parents’ long, happy marriage was still a thing of beauty, even years after Pa’s death. Someday, she wanted the same for herself, a full-time partner in love and life, facing together all the warts and all the honeysuckle marriage brings. And even though Ma had preached against marriage too-early, wanting all her girls set in with a skill and a career, Kelley couldn’t help regretting the long years she’d spent with Ned, hoping somehow he’d change his mind and want to spend his life at her side. Where was he now anyway? Her brother Kenn had sent a wedding invitation last October that had been ignored.
Was her attraction to Jason just hormones? Were those sparkles just reaction to the first man paying her attention since last year’s breakup? Vegeterra and the wagon trains had kept her too busy to regret the split…or too busy to date anybody else.
Ma firmly believed in initial sparkles meaning something special, something important, something real. What if something like that was actually DNA? Kelley laughed out loud. She’d have to get Jason to develop a test.
Back to the present, she examined the compote recipe, and nodded. “I’ve got everything on hand. If I have time, I’ll give it a try.”
“I tell you, it’s a timesaver,” Ma insisted.
“I said I’ll try.” Suddenly she had run out of patience. If Ma kept up, Kelley would be spilling beans about Vegeterra and now wasn’t the time or place. Ma was never one for “I Told You So’s” but taking her daughter into her arms like a baby would have Kelley losing it, and she didn’t want that…she didn’t have the strength or the time.
“What’s got you in a snit?” Ma asked shrewdly.
Oh, no. It was just a matter of seconds before Ma knew everything. A diversion was in order.
“It was good of Jason to pick me up today,” Kelley tried to sound casual but just saying the name had her heart in a mess.
Ma shrugged. “Seems a good guy. The menfolk were all busy getting the wagons ready to roll. And I had custodial care at church. You’re going tomorrow, right? Pastor Hale is doing great healing up from his heart attack.”
Praising God and feeling His spirit was no doubt what Kelley needed, but right now, she simply wasn’t in the mood. He kept on letting her down, and down some more, despite her pleas. That flash of a home fire burning she’d felt on the ridge with Jason had been weakness, no more. She was a full-grown woman with goals and talent who should be able to regroup and get Vegeterra up to snuff. She didn’t need anybody, much less a God who kept on ignoring her prayers. She’d figure out what to do all by herself.
“That’s good about Pastor Hale,” She waffled although she meant the words sincerely. Their pastor was a wonderful man, and she’d been on hand to help bring in emergency help and transportation that Sunday service last December when he’d collapsed. “But I guess it all depends if I get my baking done. We’ve got a horde of tourists expecting my best.”
Ma’s stare sent Kelley shriveling inside her big apron. Even her jeans felt too loose around her waist. One thing you never did, Ma’s main tenet for life, you just never blew off God. Shame swamped her.
“Now, girl.” Ma’s smile was grim. “I sure hope you kept up your worship habits in Sunset Hills.”
“I did.” Kelly assured her. That was most certainly true. Guilt, habit…and her efforts had brought naught. She held off a grumble even as she marveled at Ma’s faith that never wavered.
Under raised eyebrows, Ma glared now, but in her special way that wasn’t unsympathetic. “Just so you know. The young adults have been meeting in the Fireside Room after services for Bible study. It would be nice for you to catch up with old friends.”
Kelley’s heart sank. Catching up with old friends was one thing she had hoped to avoid. Faking success or telling the truth was a miserable choice all around. And since when had Bible study been held on Sunday mornings?
“Bible study has been on Tuesday nights for just ever,” she hoped against hope. She’d be on the wagon train then.
“Yep, that it has.” Ma busied herself opening the jars of jam even as her gaze never left Kelley. “But until Pastor fully gets his strength back, it seems easier on him to hold a short session right after church. Things are sure to be back to normal soon.”
But not in time for me to escape this round, Kelly sniffed silently. Ma was a powerful force, especially with her unblinking eyes. “Oh, Ma. Of course I’ll go. I’ll pull an all-nighter if I need to get everything done.”
“Go where? And get what done? I’ll help if I can.” Jason offered, his unexpected voice sending Kelley’s heartbeats skittering hard around her ribs. He strode into the kitchen on quiet boot heels that should have clomped. Kelley had long noticed the same with her brothers and all the ranch hands. Seemed anybody who worked with animals had learned quiet approaches. She hadn’t known he was coming, yet she was more than glad, make that thrilled, to see him here.
“Church,” Ma said promptly, giving Jason the same stare. “You goin’ with us this time around, young fella?”
From Jason’s blush, Kelley reckoned he wasn’t much of a church-goer. Ma never judged her employees, or anybody for that matter, but right now her eyes bored deep into Kelley’s soul.
Jason smiled at her, then looked at Ma straight on. “I will be taking you up on your invitation this Sunday, ma’am. I’ve visited temples and shrines and cathedrals all over the world. Might as well see how it goes down in Colorado.”
She watched Ma place a big hand on Jason’s shoulder. Even with her own stagnate faith, Kelley sensed curiosity rather than reverence in his tone, and disquiet rumbled in her tummy. She might be down on God, but Jason’s offhandedness somehow saddened her.
Ma’s smile was bright and genuine, though. Kelley knew the difference, and if Ma was okay, she would be, too. “Why, that’s a mighty fine thing, young man. You’ll find out God goes down mighty easy. Be ready at eight. And you can go with Kelley to Bible study and coffee hour and meet some more of the young folks around here. Oh and thanks.”
Jason’s eyebrows rose now. “Thanks?”
“Thanks for picking up my girl today. It’s been quite a while since she’s been on hand at Hearts Crossing, and I can’t begin to say how much I’ve missed her. And we’ll be expecting you for supper tonight.”
Ma’s voice almost shook as she surged out of the kitchen, leaving Kelley alone with the man she most wanted to be alone with, whatever questions grumbled in h
er gut.
“And what kind of help do you need, Miz Kelley?” Jason drawled cowboy style as he leaned against the butcher block, at ease, every inch a cowboy even without his hat. Even with Uzbekistan in the mix. Magnificent, and she trembled to her toes.
“Well, Mr. Easterday, I’ve got some baking to do. And a trial run at a blueberry compote Ma recommends.”
“I apply as your assistant, then. My own mother taught me to do more than use a microwave. Just ask the guys in the bunkhouse. My cooking rocks, if I say so myself.” He swooped gallantly like he’d done before at the restaurant. “I’m offering my services whatever might be required.”
For a flash, Kelley envisioned him at her side, helping her get the meals on the wagon train trip, and her heart beat hard. As he rose again, his gaze landed on Ma’s cookbook, and he stopped, stunned. “Whoa.”
Her breathing was too fast, but curiosity overcame her. “Whoa what? I’ve been wondering about the author’s name myself.”“
Jason grinned, shaking his head.”It’s gotta be karma or something. Organic Cooking. That’s one of my mother’s early cookbooks. I mean, one she wrote.
“Yes, that’s my mama. How I got the name Jason, I’ll never know. I know my dad teased me about Juggernaut once.” He shook his head with an eye roll.
Kelley laughed as she loaded the pot with chopped eggplant and couldn’t resist his teasing eyes. “What about Easterday?”
“Just pulled out of a hat.”
“It’s one of us Christians’ most holy days,” she mused, wondering at the beauty of such a name. No matter her doubts in God, she had none about His Son, her Savior. “They picked well.”
“I’m glad for your approval.” Jason gave her a smart salute.
“Well, I don’t think it’s my approval you need.”
“You might be wrong there.” His eyes turned from teasing to lustrous somehow, as though he could see things about her she couldn’t. Unable to help herself, she laid her hand on the cheek where the butterfly kiss had been. For an unseemly second, she wanted more.
“Thanks for the butterfly kiss,” she said.
He guffawed, but his smile was tender. “Well, it seemed appropriate. Considering my boss is your very big big brother.”
The air in the kitchen turned tense with a longing Kelley couldn’t explain. Of course she and Ned had never been intimate in inappropriate ways, but she couldn’t deny missing the embrace of strong masculine arms and the sweet taste of desire on a man’s mouth. Jason stepped close enough to put his own fingers where his butterfly kiss had been, and she couldn’t look away. Maybe he would kiss her now. For real. But when she stepped closer as well and raised her chin, he pulled back a bit and lowered his hand. Lowered his lids.
“I’m sure I remember Mom teaching me that compote,” he said slow, casual. Like he might be stopping his voice from shaking. “I can handle if it you want.”
“For thirty people?” Kelley asked lightly to try to get control back into the moment, into herself.
His face flushed a handsome burgundy over his tanned cheekbones. “Well, sometimes we stayed in communes. Let me just say I’ll do whatever milady needs.” His lips moved deliciously around the last three words, and her heart started a freefall at the sound.
****
Somewhere inside the house a clock chimed eleven. Leaning against the log bench on the porch, Kelley next to him, Jason couldn’t think of one single thing to make the moment more complete.
A dollop of butter, a tad of molasses and a rustle of cinnamon—Kelley’s recipe for her personal creation graham flatbread crackers for S’mores—sounded like one of Snowy’s own. His mother and Kelley would get along well together. In the kitchen. But that was it. Snowy’s free-love-dove lifestyle coupled with her dabbling in the latest oddball belief she’d discovered on her rambles would never mesh with the ideals of Hearts Crossing.
So why did he feel so suddenly at home?
While the flatbread cooled, Bryce snored at their feet on the sprawling porch, and horses in their outdoor stalls whickered with contentment against the summer night. The shadows of the covered wagons, spruced up for Monday, flickered in the night wind like ghosts of the past. Against a longing that almost hurt, Jason tightened his fingers so he didn’t reach for Kelley’s hand.
“Thanks for your help,” she said, eyes closed. “I mean it. I’d have been up until dawn without you.”
Her gratitude pleased him. “I doubt that. You are a professional, after all.”
Her mouth turned up in a beautiful smile, but her lids stayed tight. “I’m sorry, too, you know. For falling asleep on you on the way home.”
“Aw, shucks.” He tried the cowboy drawl again; it had made her smile before, and she did so again. “No offense taken and no apology accepted. I’ve long been told a woman falling asleep in your presence means she’s comfortable around you.”
In the flicker of porch light, her cheeks flushed, and he ached to place a kiss on them. A real kiss this time, not something from a children’s book. “Well, you got that right, cowboy.”
He held back his longing by deep breathing and a change in subject. “I enjoyed hanging with your family tonight. They’re a great bunch of people. Mostly I work with Hoop and Pike, so I liked it. Everyone together.” For a flash, he realized Hearts Crossing was starting to fit him like a warm mitten on a cold hand.
“Then you should come to Sunday dinner after church.”
For some reason, panic roiled. The family’s Sunday dinner after joining her for services might mean something to somebody, even himself. Especially if they offered up another prayer like the one at supper. Not just thanking God for the food…his own family at mealtimes acknowledged the goodness of some Providence somewhere out there for earthly delights He/She/It bestowed, but Hooper had asked everyone to share a special thank-you for one special thing the day had brought. Of course Jason had wanted to say Kelley. Had felt her eyes on his face.
But instead, he said he was grateful for the sun on his back.
What a sap.
“So how about it? Dinner?” she asked, eyes opened now, wide and inviting.
“Sure.” Why deprive himself of something wonderful? “I can help you in the kitchen if you want.”
She chewed her delectable lip as if considering his offer. Then her eyes brightened with mischief. “I think you earned your keep tonight, but while we’re on the wagon train, that’s another matter.”
It was a clear invitation to join her at her chuck wagon. He’d have to think about that. Three days at her side might make him feel things better left unfelt. A change of subject was definitely in order. “I’m glad Hoop said I could tag along.”
“Of course. What’s one more mouth to feed? Because you’ll definitely rustle up an appetite. Some of the tourists have never been in the outdoors before. There’s a bit of babysitting involved sometimes. And a lot of handholding.”
“Consider it done.” Jason warmed at the thought, not merely of the wagon train thudding along the road, but of riding close to Kelley. But that was a day away. Something else big loomed first. “What do I wear to church?”
She looked him up and down, and heat trilled through his veins. “You sound like a girl.” She winked. “But what you’re wearing now is fine. Pastor Hale is reverent but casual.”
Jason considered his clean jeans, dust-free boots, long-sleeved blue plaid shirt.
“Maybe add a bolo,” she said. “Some folks will dress up, like Ma. Others ride in direct from their chores.”
“You?” He couldn’t help it. What would he feel, seeing her in a dress?
“Don’t know.” She shrugged against him. “It’ll depend how I feel in the morning.” Then she downright snuggled. “Or if I go with Chelsea. Her truck cab is like a wastebasket on wheels, and I might need a hazmat suit.”
He chuckled, but hesitated, too. Going to church with a woman wasn’t exactly a date, and it had been her mother’s idea to begin with. “Uh, maybe we
could ride together?”
“Sounds all right to me.” She lowered her lashes in a way that had him think he was almost in the date category. “My family likes you, Jason. Seems like you’ve been here longer than a few months.”
“Aw, shucks.” He stayed light, but the words meant something.
“But I don’t know much about your family.” She sat up now, fully interested, and cleared her throat. “Other than the cookbooks and translating and you lived in…communes.”
“Yep.” He knew well the flash of discomfort reddened his skin, but he kept on. “I have to admit I was raised in a very unconventional way. I almost don’t like mentioning it to you, you know, with your traditional upbringing.”
At his quick glance, she laughed out loud. “Don’t you believe it. My mother is the last of the Martins who built the Hearts Crossing ranch. Even though she was head over heels, she wouldn’t marry my father unless he took her last name.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Not quite in the same ballpark as a commune but definitely eccentric.
“Nope. She convinced him right away. Said women have been doing it for centuries. Why not a man?”
“That’s awesome. And something Snowy and September would really get.”
“That’s how Kenn got his name. Kennedy. Pa’s maiden name.”
Jason laughed outright again, feeling more at home than ever. Right away he shook off the sensation. He was ever a man with places to go and people to meet. Despite the wide skies of Colorado, he wasn’t the type to stick around for long. Fall round-up to be sure, but Uzbekistan was high on a long list.
“You guys are something. But I can top it.” His wacky confession continued. “I’ve got identical twin sisters who speak and write in their own private language.”
“Whoa.” Kelley’s shoulders straightened in surprise. “That kind of does beat out Pa’s maiden name. Honest?”
Jason didn’t really feel like telling her the rest; they were half sisters from one of the times his dad had felt the urge to “explore,” and he’d only met them through e-mails. Yet he must. If Kelley were ever to truly mean anything to him, and he to her, no holds barred.