A Texas Thanksgiving

“She needed to go home to Uncle Bert, so she couldn’t.”

“I wish she would watch me ride sometime.”

“She will, princess.”

Smiling now, Paige rushed after Ellie.

“Obviously, I came at a bad time,” Julia said, trailing after the two girls.

Evan asked, “Did they hear Marge leaving?”

“’Fraid so.”

He winced. “That’s what I thought. My mother-in-law didn’t understand why I wanted to learn to cook. She is perfectly content to fix our meals forever and she made that crystal clear to me.”

“So, that wasn’t your mother?”

“No! My mother died when I was a child. My father now lives in Dallas.”

“Why wouldn’t she want you to learn to cook?”

“Because she enjoys preparing our meals, but especially coming out here and showing me just how lacking I am in housekeeping skills. She’s angling to be our housekeeper, although she would hate ranch life.”

Julia surveyed the kitchen with its clean counters and lack of dirty dishes in the sink. “I’d say you do a good job.”

“Not according to my mother-in-law. She believes her granddaughter lives in a pigsty.”

Julia stopped next to the oak table with two yellow place mats on it. “You’re kidding! I was considering hiring you to come over to my apartment and clean it.”

Julia liked the sound of his laughter that suddenly warmed the small space between them. Any lingering tension from Marge dissipated as his gaze captured hers. Her heartbeat picked up speed.

He broke eye contact with her, focusing on the bag on the counter. “What are we cooking today?”

“Spaghetti.”

“The kind in a can?”

She shook her head. “I think you’ve probably mastered that. Let’s move on to something more challenging.”

“Are you sure that’s wise? I once boiled an egg that exploded in the pan because I forgot about it.”

“I’m sure. But I like to live dangerously.”

“You might regret saying that before this is over.” He looked beyond her to the back door. “We’d better get to the barn before my daughter has Bessie saddled and decides to give her own lesson.”

“She’s good for her age. How long has she been riding?”

“Almost two years. Since I’ve had the ranch. She was so enthralled with the horses that I was afraid she would try to ride on her own if I didn’t teach her.” He grabbed his cowboy hat from a peg near the door.

“Paige sounds more and more like my Ellie. No wonder they like each other.” Julia left the house first, conscious of Evan’s gaze on her as she descended the steps on the back stoop.

“I’m not sure if I’m glad or scared. Paige can be a whirlwind.”

Julia slanted her glance toward him as they strolled to the barn. She could easily picture him riding over his land, saving a calf that had fallen into a hole, mending his fences, breaking a wild horse—everything but being a cook.

“Why didn’t you just say cook the onions?” Evan crunched up his mouth, his eyebrows beetling, as he stood at the stove brandishing a wooden spoon in his hand as though it were a weapon.

“Because a recipe will say sauté. If you’re going to cook, you need to learn the terms, too. Words like whisk, brown, fold, caramelize.”

“Why would I caramelize anything? I don’t even like caramel.”

Julia pressed her lips together to keep from laughing out loud, but a chuckle or two escaped. “When you caramelize something like diced onions, you cook them until they are a caramel color.”

He pushed his hand through his hair. “All I want to learn are a few dishes so Paige and I won’t starve. Today has confirmed that I can’t continue to be so reliant on Marge. Now I discover I have to learn a whole new language. I’m almost afraid to ask what fold means in cooking. I know how to fold laundry.”

“First, stir the onions before they burn.”

Evan complied, muttering something under his breath that he at least understood the word burn.

“When you fold something in, you slowly add it to a mixture, gently turning over the batter as you do. For example, you might fold strawberries into a cake batter. You wouldn’t want to stir them too vigorously.”

“No, I’m sure I wouldn’t.”

“Now that the onions are clear and the meat is brown, it’s time to add the rest of the ingredients, turn the heat down and let the sauce simmer.”

“Is simmering in cooking similar to a temper simmering?” He dumped in a can of diced tomatoes. Some of the liquid splattered on him and the stove.

“Yes, like browning meat is just what it means. You’ll want the meat to turn brown—not black or stay pink.” She gave him a dish towel to wipe his hands.

“But I like a steak red.”

“That’s a steak, not ground beef. You don’t want it red or pink when making a sauce.”

“This isn’t gonna be easy, is it?” He added the tomato paste.

“You’ll get the hang of it.” She hoped, and sent a silent prayer to the Lord for guidance. She loved to cook but had never taught another person how. “My plan is to teach you to prepare a few meals that children like to eat. Things like macaroni and cheese, spaghetti, pizza.”

“Pizza? You don’t just order it from a restaurant?”

She laughed. “Believe it or not, some people actually make it in their homes.”

“I guess stranger things have happened.” He put in the last of the spices that she had taught him to measure earlier—or rather, demonstrated how. “Done.”

Julia pointed to the knob on the front of the stove. “Turn it down halfway between low and medium. Now we’ll get the water on for the spaghetti.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard. I do know how to boil water.”

“Unless you leave an egg in it too long.”

“Spaghetti doesn’t explode, does it?”

The smile he sent her caused a fluttering in her stomach. “Not to my knowledge, but you can overcook it.” She gestured toward a pot, trying to dismiss her reaction to his heart-melting grin. “Let’s fill it three-quarters of the way and put some salt in.”

He followed her instruction, placing the water on the burner. Julia handed him the salt. When he sprinkled it into the liquid, she turned to put the spices away in the cabinet next to the stove.

When she glanced back at him a minute later, she caught him staring at her, still sprinkling salt into the water. She clamped her hand around his wrist and yanked it back. “What are you doing?”

He looked down at the pan. “Putting salt in the water like you said.”

“A little of it goes a long way.”

“I didn’t use a lot.”

Her gaze connected with his. The fragrance of onion, tomatoes, spices and ground beef cooking teased her nostrils. The sound of the water beginning to boil competed with the ticking of the wall clock. But for a few seconds none of that really registered. All of her senses centered on the man being so close. She could smell a hint of lime in his aftershave lotion. The depths of his eyes glinted a smoky blue. She felt the pull of them.

Giggling from the living room dispelled the moment. When he looked away, she realized she was still holding his arm and immediately released her grasp, backing away a few steps.

“Uh,” she grappled for something to say, “why don’t you put a little oil into the water?”

“Why would I want to do that?” His face scrunched up in an expression of horror.

“Because the spaghetti will clump together after it’s cooked if you don’t.”

“You see? How in the world will I ever learn all these little tricks?”

“It takes time. You won’t learn to cook overnight.” Although she wished he would, so her job would be done. She grabbed the bottle of oil and passed it to him. “Just a little.” After he finished, she continued and said, “It’s time to put the spaghetti into the water and turn the heat down to medium.”

Completing the task, he stood back and eyed the pots on the stove. “What’s next?”

Julia held up her finger, glanced over her shoulder and said, “Girls, do you want to come on in here, instead of lurking in the doorway, and set the table?”

“How did ya know we were here?” Paige appeared from the right side of the entrance.

“Yeah, Mommy, we were being extra quiet.” Ellie shuffled into view from the left side and positioned herself next to her friend.

“I could have super hearing, but in this case I heard two little girls giggling rather loudly a moment ago.”

“Are we gonna be able to eat the food?” Paige entered the room and clasped the back of a chair at the table.

“Do I detect doubt in my daughter? This is gonna be the best spaghetti y’all have ever had. Isn’t that right, Julia?” When she didn’t say anything right away, a stricken look descended on his face. “You’re supposed to stand behind your pupil. After all, isn’t that a reflection on your teaching ability?”

She had her doubts since she realized she should have had Evan throw out the water he had salted and just start over.

“Girls, I’m going to let you be the judges. A teacher shouldn’t. I don’t want to discourage the pupil.” Julia removed four dinner plates and glasses from the cabinet and placed them on the table.

While Paige and Ellie set the table, they kept peering back at Evan and Julia at the stove and whispering between them, which immediately caused several giggles to erupt.

Julia leaned close, lowered her voice, but not too low so the girls couldn’t hear and said to Evan, “I think my next teaching job is to show Paige and Ellie how to load the dishwasher and clean up. I don’t think six is too young to learn that.” She winked at him.

“Mommy, I’m five. I won’t be six for a couple of weeks.”

“Oh, right. You think Evan and I should do the dishes then?”

Ellie nodded, a serious expression on her face. “You’d better. I’m still too young.”

Julia couldn’t suppress her laughter any longer, its sound sprinkling the air. She spun away from her daughter in time to see the water boiling over. Quickly, she snatched the pot from the stove. A burning smell floated to her as she dumped the pasta into the strainer in the sink.

“A word to the wise, don’t let little munchkins distract you from your cooking,” Julia said as she switched off the heat on both burners. “Is the table finished?”

“Yep.” Paige pointed to the nearest place setting, her shoulders thrust back, her chin held high.

Next to the little girl, Ellie imitated her friend’s stance. “We did good.”

Other than the six pieces of silverware at each plate, Julia had to agree. “Then let’s eat. Bring your plates over to the counter and take the spaghetti you want.”

Five minutes later with dinner served, Julia took the last vacant chair next to Evan and sat. “Who would like to say grace?” she asked when she noticed Evan reaching for one of his three forks to eat.

He stopped and looked at her. “Oh, yeah. I will.” He bowed his head. “Father, please bless this food and the people at this table. If You can find the time, You might help me learn how to cook. I could sure use Your help. Amen.”

When Julia murmured amen more enthusiastically than usual, he shot her a look, similar to the one she had seen Marge give him. She tossed him a grin and a wink.

“What did you think of me riding today?” Ellie shoved her fork into the pile of spaghetti. “I’m doing it by myself. Pretty soon we can all go riding together.”

Julia paused in bringing her glass of water to her lips. “Well, honey, there’s just one thing wrong with that. I don’t know how to ride.”

“Mommy! You don’t? I thought every grown-up knew how.”

“We can take care of that. The next time I give you a lesson, I can give your mother one, too.”

Ellie clapped her hands. “That’s perfect!”

“No, it isn’t. You might like to ride those big animals, but I don’t think I want to.”

Ellie’s eyes grew round. “Why not?”

“I…” Up until June, she’d lived her whole life in Chicago, and hadn’t even once been to a farm.

“Yeah, why not? Scared to let me be the teacher?”

Evan’s dare taunted her as he knew it would. Julia bristled for a few seconds and said, “Okay, I’ll learn, and I’ll learn how to ride faster than you’ll learn to cook a simple dinner by yourself.”

“I’ll take you up on that challenge.”

“Daddy, when are you gonna give Ellie her next lesson? Next weekend?”

“I can’t. I have to set up for the school carnival Friday afternoon and evening and then work it on Saturday.”

“So do I.” Julia finally took a long drink of her cold water. Instead of staying away from the man, she found herself planning ways to be with him. Probably not a good idea, but she didn’t know how to get out of it gracefully and not disappoint her daughter.

“Then we can do it next Sunday after church.”

“Fine, and I’ll give you your second cooking lesson. We’ll make pizza.”

“Only if you give me a list of ingredients to buy.”

She inclined her head. “That’s fair. I will before I leave tonight.”

“Pizza! I love it, Daddy.” Paige finally took her first bite of the spaghetti and scrunched up her face. She quickly swallowed her food, then took several gulps of her milk.

“What’s wrong, princess?”

“Nothing.” Evan’s daughter stared down at her plate.

He slipped a forkful of his creation between his lips and surprise flashed into his eyes. When he got the spaghetti down, he coughed. “Maybe we can drive into town and get some hamburgers at Prairie Springs Café. My treat.”

Since it looked fine, Julia was curious how bad the food tasted and put a small amount into her mouth. A salty taste exploded against her tongue and she washed it down with a long drink of water. “Just how much salt did you put in the water while my back was turned? You said it wasn’t a lot.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t think it was. I like salt.” Gesturing toward his food, he grinned. “Obviously, it was more than I thought. I must have been distracted.”

A blush stained her cheeks. “Now you know why salt goes a long way.”

“And then some,” he said and rose, taking his and Julia’s plate to the sink. “The good news is I don’t think the sauce tasted too bad.”

Julia crossed to the stove, dipped the wooden spoon into the red mixture and nodded. “Not bad at all. There’s hope for you. I’ll save this in your refrigerator. There’s enough here for another meal. You can pick up some more spaghetti while you’re at the grocery store. Just don’t put too much salt in the water when you cook the pasta.”

“You’re gonna trust me to do that without your watchful eye?”

“I’ll write the instructions down with your grocery list. I think you can follow simple directions.”

“I’ll help ya, Daddy.”

“You’ve got yourself a date, princess.”

Paige threw her arms around his waist and hugged him.

A lump formed in Julia’s throat. She’d wanted that for her daughter—a father who loved her. Instead he’d vanished one day, leaving only a brief note telling her not to bother looking for him, that he wanted nothing to do with being a father or a husband.

Evan pounded the nail into the board. The noise level was already loud, as the elementary school gym was crowded with parents helping to set up for the carnival the next day. But no Julia Saunders. He should know. He would catch himself looking around every few minutes, expecting to see her, then get mad at himself, more determined than ever to focus on building the booth he’d been assigned to by Olga. Then something would catch his attention and before he knew it, his gaze would wander to look for Julia.

Yes, they’d all had a pleasant evening last Sunday, enjoying a nice meal at Prairie Springs Café before going their separate ways. When he’d returned home, he didn’t even have anything to clean up. Julia had insisted on doing it before leaving for the café since he insisted on paying for dinner. He’d tried to talk her out of it, but she was one stubborn woman. She’d informed him she paid her own way and did her share of the work, always.

It was as if she was determined not to take anything from him. Why? Had she been burned like him? That had to be it or she would have been married to Ellie’s dad. Curiosity bubbled to the surface, but he immediately squashed it down. Two wounded souls had no business getting together.

“The carnival is tomorrow, not next weekend, Evan.” Olga planted herself in front of him, blocking his view of the rest of the gym. “And we only have eighteen hours until the doors open.”

“I’ll have it finished within the hour.”

“Good, because I’ve decided to add a petting zoo, especially after the success of the Show and Pet at the church picnic, and you can be in charge of it. Isn’t that perfect for a rancher?”

No, he thought. “In where? Here? There’s no room left to put another activity.”

“I listened to the weather today and tomorrow it’s supposed to be beautiful, so I thought outside, but you’ll need to make some temporary pens for the animals.”

Evan rose from kneeling on the floor and stretched. “Where are the animals gonna come from?”

“Where else? Your ranch. You have tons of them.” She flitted her hands near his face, her large turquoise bracelet with silver beads tinkling.

“I don’t have enough for a petting zoo.”

“How can you not? You have a ranch with horses and cattle.”

“Which aren’t easy for kids to pet. They’re too big.”

She tapped her finger against her jaw. “Then I will contact a few people I know who have some interesting animals and have them bring them first thing tomorrow morning. Can you get here by nine?”

He nodded, remembering the fiasco of her “Show and Pet” at the church picnic last week and all the incidents that Olga had conveniently forgotten. At least this time he was in charge from the beginning and hopefully could control the situation.

“That’s great. I will have an assistant for you. You will not be alone.”

As Olga scurried away, he thought the woman was too late. He was very alone. And that wasn’t likely to change anytime soon. That was the way he wanted it. Much safer.

He began to turn back to the booth he was constructing when he caught sight of Julia entering the gym. He paused and studied her. Her long brown hair appeared mussed, as though she had been running her hand through it repeatedly. Worry furrowed her forehead and dulled her eyes.

Before he realized it, his legs were chewing up the space between them.

Something was wrong.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.