Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
T ildi woke up the next morning with Boone spooning her back. She had never slept better in her life. Even in her sleep he kept her safe, warm, and loved. His arm draped across her waist and his calves cradled her ankles.
It was a good thing she didn’t have a preferred side of the bed, too. Boone took whichever side was closest to the door. Stuff like that only happened in romance novels.
So, if she was safe, warm, and loved, then why was she awake? It was still dark outside. Seconds later a strangled scream shattered the night.
She shot straight up in bed, and with no other method of defense, she echoed the scream as loud as she could. Flipping over, she intended to shake Boone awake. Somehow, he’d managed to sleep through all the murder and mayhem. Unfortunately, she flipped a bit too enthusiastically and elbowed him in the eye.
Boone jerked awake, eyes wide and scanning the room for the threat. When he didn’t see one, he looked back at her. “What the hell, Tildi? Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Did you have a bad dream? I’m sorry, babygirl. Here, come cuddle with Daddy.”
He reached for her with one hand. The other rubbed the eye she socked. It was all she could do not to slap his hand away.
Well, that wasn’t true. She kind of liked his hands. Especially when they were doing naughty, wicked things to her. Right now, she had questions. Like how he could sleep through all the screaming.
“I don’t need anything, Daddy, but someone else does. Someone is being attacked or something.” She whispered just in case whoever was strangling people outside had an accomplice inside. Had she brought this to the ranch? Sev’s father had to know where Boone lived.
Boone came alert. “Who was attacked, babygirl?”
“I don’t know, but someone is screaming. I can’t believe you didn’t hear it. Daddy, you have to go help them. They may be dying.”
Before he could ask any more questions, another scream pierced the air. It took all she could do not to scream again, too. It must be something terrible because Boone started shaking.
Wrapping her arms around his shoulders to comfort him, she did her best to bolster his courage. What could make a tough commando rancher shake like that?
A muffled snort broke the silence.
Laughter. Suppressed laughter could make him shake like that.
She was going to smack him with a brick. How much time would she spend in jail for perpetrating perfectly justifiable rude commando Daddy assault?
Tildi tapped Boone’s shoulder to get his attention. With the palm of her hand. Okay, slapped. She slapped his shoulder. “What is so funny? Someone out there is dying.”
Losing the battle to stifle his amusement, Boone’s laughter erupted. She covered his mouth with her hand. The last thing she needed was to have the family come bursting through the door and witness her beating up her super buff but very rude commando Daddy.
When he didn’t stop, she bumped him with her shoulder. “Daddy!”
He held up a hand as if he were on an important phone call and needed her to wait. He’d lost his mind. What he did not lose was the laughter. “It’s not funny! You’re supposed to save people, not laugh at them.”
His laughter disappeared in an instant. With tenderness in his eyes, he lifted her to straddle his middle. “I love that your first thought is to help others, babygirl. It’s hard to remember how new this is to you. That wasn’t a person, bluebell. It was a rooster crowing. Sometimes they sound like the ones you hear in the movies, but a lot of the time they sound like, well, like someone is being murdered. Don’t worry. He’ll stop soon.”
Was he kidding her right now? A chicken? She’d almost peed herself over a man chicken?
She wasn’t some Cinderella City Girl, for cripes sake. Roosters didn’t sound like that in the movies. If that was how they sounded, Foghorn Leghorn had let her down.
Now she looked like an idiot. Her cheeks burned along with the backs of her eyes, but she wasn’t shedding a single tear. That would make her Daddy think she wasn’t just an idiot, but that she was a weak idiot. He was never going to believe she could carry her weight on the ranch if she didn’t even know what a rooster sounded like.
Who couldn’t tell the difference between roosters and murder victims? Besides her. Her chest battled to keep her from breathing until the burn in her lungs outweighed that in her cheeks and eyes. What must Boone think of her?
You’re a constant source of disappointment. He regrets bringing you here.
Ugh! She needed the voice in her head to shut up… the one that sounded like the General.
She jumped when Boone reached over her to tuck the blanket tightly around her. When he snuggled close and weighted her down with his arm and leg draped over her, her taut muscled slowly relaxed.
“I wasn’t laughing at you, you know. I’d never do that. Your innocence sparked a joy in me I wasn’t expecting. Those voices in your head are shouting so loud even I can hear them. Those voices might be talking, but they’re talking trash, not truth. They don’t know you. So, I’m making a new rule. Don’t talk to strangers. Especially not the ones in your head.”
Tildi bit her lip and nodded. He pulled her into his chest and hugged her so tight it squeezed out all the bad voices. He was one wise Daddy.
“Since it’s not quite 5:30 in the morning, we need to get some more shut eye. We’ll be getting up soon enough and I want you to be rested. Okay?”
“Okay, Daddy. I’ll try.” She wouldn’t have believed it possible, but she fell right back to sleep.
Boone eased out of the bed later that morning around 7:00. He’d told her she wasn’t to get out of bed until she’d slept in, which meant she didn’t get up until 8:30. Apparently on a ranch, that was sleeping in because when she entered the kitchen, Boone was nowhere to be seen.
Instead, Kenzie bustled around, her hair knotted atop her head. She wore an apron that read, Don’t Make Me Poison You . The door to one of the two ovens creaked in protest when Kenzie opened it to pull out something that filled the kitchen with the delicious aroma of cinnamon sugary goodness.
An older woman stood before a large farmhouse sink scrubbing dishes and humming a tune Tildi didn’t recognize.
Tildi remained quiet, content to watch until her stomach growled loud enough to catch the attention of the older woman. She turned to Tildi and smiled. “Well, good morning. You got here just in time to be our taste tester for these butter pecan sticky buns.”
Tildi’s mouth watered. “If they taste half as good as they smell, I might have to test more than one.”
Toweling her hands dry as she crossed the room, the woman beamed a smile at Tildi that warmed her soul. Tildi loved her on sight. As soon as she drew close enough, she pulled Tildi into her ample chest and hugged her. “It's good to meet you, poppet. My name is Ruby Watson. Now, you sit down right here at the table, and I’ll bring you a cup of coffee to have with your sweet roll.”
She led Tildi to the russet marble countertop that bracketed the kitchen and separated it from what looked like a huge family room. Hopping up on a comfortable bar chair, Tildi focused on not drooling while waiting for Ruby to serve her breakfast.
Everything in her itched to help rather than be waited on. Ruby had been in the middle of doing something, and having to serve Tildi must be an annoying interruption. It wasn’t Ruby’s fault Tildi had missed breakfast. Not that she knew exactly when that had been. “What time is breakfast? I don’t want to miss it again and cause all this extra work.”
Setting down a plate with a sweet roll big enough to feed three people, Ruby smiled. “This isn’t work, poppet, extra or otherwise. Actually, you’re doing us a favor. We’ve been itching for a new taste tester, haven’t we, Kenz?”
Kenzie sat down next to Tildi and handed her a cup of coffee. “We sure have. I wasn’t sure how you take your coffee, but I hope you’re a fellow creamer aficionado. This is caramel apple crisp.”
Tildi hadn’t had creamer in her coffee in years. She couldn’t afford it when she’d been living on her own. She certainly hadn’t had any for the past year, being dragged from one compound to the next by Nico Midnight’s men.
Lifting the cup to her lips, she closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of apples and cinnamon. Taking heed of the steam rising from the mug, she sipped carefully. Sweet apple and cinnamon goodness overwhelmed her taste buds. She couldn’t hold back a groan of pure pleasure. “Oh my god, Kenzie. This is amazing. I’m going to stock my refrigerator with this one day when I have a kitchen of my own. Where did you get it?”
It tasted fresh, so Tildi wouldn’t be surprised if it were local.
Kenzie grinned. “Thanks. We make it ourselves here at the ranch.”
No wonder it tasted so fresh. “Wow! Then I’m sure you’ve gotten all kinds of feedback from your brothers.”
“Well, you’d be wrong.” Kenzie’s voice had a musical quality that set Tildi at ease. “Those goof heads only take their coffee black as smut and strong enough to choke a horse.”
Tildi gasped, as if that were a crime against humanity itself. “That’s awful.”
Ruby placed a sweet roll in front of Kenzie then pulled up a chair. “If you ask me, it’s the only way they can stand to drink that slop they make when they’re on their own.”
Oh wow. “That bad, huh?”
“That bad,” Kenzie confirmed.
“Don’t get me wrong, it has its uses. Just not drinking it.” Ruby grinned at Kenzie. “Remember when we used the pot they brewed last winter to patch that leak in the henhouse roof?”
Kenzie burst out laughing. “I do! I always said the stuff they made was thick as pitch and tasted worse. I never expected they’d prove me right.”
Their laughter was so infectious Tildi joined in.
If the homemade creamer tasted this good, she couldn’t wait to dig into the sweet roll. Taking an embarrassingly large bite of the gooey goodness, a moan of pleasure escaped her. As predicted, it was just as delicious as the coffee.
Scanning the kitchen, she took in all the delicious treats on cooling racks around the kitchen. They had made every kind of fudge and other Christmas candies she could imagine, as well as several she couldn’t name.
“You two are serious about your desserts! I know the guys are hardy eaters, but I’ve seen full New York City bakeries who didn’t have that many treats. Who are all the confections for?”
Kenzie followed Tildi’s gaze across the kitchen and shrugged. “Well, it is the holiday season. When we get everything baked and bagged, it’s going into all those boxes.” She pointed to a large table off to the side stacked with pretty gift boxes waiting to be assembled. “Once we have them packed, we’re delivering them all over town. We need to hand them out this weekend, but for now we’re storing them so they’re out of the way until tomorrow. We sure could use your help. Do you mind?”
Did she mind? Did she mind being treated like one of the family, even though she’d done nothing to earn the right to be? Her mother hadn’t been the baking type. Or the cooking type, except for soup kitchen photo ops set up to benefit her father’s political ambitions. No, her mother was more of the scheduling fund raising events with all the “right” clubs and civic organizations. The ones her father had insisted she be a part of to uphold his image.
Tildi had been embarrassed every year at Christmas when their friends all brought wonderful homemade gifts for the teachers. She’d never once had a gift to give a teacher, much less to the neighbors and friends.
Tears stung Tildi’s eyes. Was this part of being in a real family? She had nothing to compare it to, but it sure felt like it.
Kenzie noticed Tildi’s tears and misunderstood. “Hey, no pressure. Boone told us you would need to rest a lot when you first got here. Just forget I asked. It’s all right.”
Tildi wasn’t tired at all. She wanted to put together those gift boxes as much as she wanted to take her next breath. “No, I want to help. Ignore the tears, they seem to appear all the time these days for no reason. It doesn’t mean anything. Please, let me join in the fun.”
Kenzie smiled, hopping off her bar chair and giving Tildi a hug. “Not sure how much fun storing all this candy will be, but awesome, I’m glad you want to help. We have a ton of stuff to do yet. We’ll get started as soon as you finish your breakfast.”
Tildi pushed off her chair. “Oh, I don’t have to eat this. We can start now.”
“Are you kidding? Ruby will smack me with the wooden spoon she always keeps in the pocket of her apron if I stop you from eating one of her famous sweet rolls. But, in the spirit of sisterhood, and so you won’t feel pressured to rush, I’ll have another one, too. That way you don’t have to eat alone.”
The joy growing inside Tildi bubbled out in laughter. “Your noble sacrifice is deeply appreciated.”
Kenzie grinned. “What can I say, I was born to be a martyr.”
Twenty minutes and two sweet rolls—each—later Ruby set up a Christmas candy storage assembly line.
“You’re making me look bad. You’re fast,” Kenzie said once the candies were all put away. “I guess Ruby’s been right all these years. Many hands do make light work. Being the only girl, I’ve always wanted a sister. I’m sure glad you’re finally here.”
Tildi had to work at not crying. Again. Seriously, when were the waterworks going to calm down? She’d cried more in the past three weeks than she had the entire year she’d been Nico’s prisoner. What the heck?
But that wasn’t what had her eyes stinging this time. Kenzie’s words reminded Tildi she did have a sister. The only bright spot in her life until Boone. Everything in her wanted to reach out to her sister, Breezy, but she hadn’t done it yet. She was the worst sister in the world. Why was it so much easier to build a relationship with Kenzie than it was to rebuild one with her actual sister?
She packed that away to think about later and turned to Kenzie with a smile. “Assembly lines and packing away food is my specialty. After working for a catering service for years, it’s the one thing I can do.”
Ruby walked in from the small storage room off the back of the kitchen. “I got almost everything in the cold pantry. We’re going to have to ask one of the boys to get the Escalade ready for this weekend. It’s a tank to drive, but it’s the only thing that will hold all the boxes we’ll be delivering. I swear, in another year or two we won’t be able to call Wilder a small town. Where are all these people coming from?”
“You know you love it, Ruby. This time next week, everyone in town will be calling to ask for all your recipes.”
“Oh, Lord. That’s just what I need. At least we’ll be past getting the Friendsgiving celebration together and on the table.” Ruby tried to sound aggravated, but the excitement twinkling in her eye told a different story.
Kenzie winked at Tildi and grinned. “This year you’ve got two accomplished sous chefs in the kitchen with you. This is going to be the best Friendsgiving ever. Besides, you know you love it.”
“I thought we missed the Friendsgiving get together. Boone was so disappointed.”
Kenzie clapped her hands, hopping in excitement. “I know! It was a surprise for him. I told him this morning and he was excited, though I think it was as much for you as for himself. He’s so totally in love with you.”
Tildi’s heart swelled. “You think so?”
Kenzie rolled her eyes, the official brat confirmation. Of course, Tildi felt Boone’s love every day. But the fact that Kenzie could see it put the icing on the cake.
She knew how much it meant to Boone that his family and friends had put off the Friendsgiving celebration until he got home. It was thoughtful and generous. She loved that he had that in his family.
If things went the way she hoped, they both would.
Kenzie squealed. The next thing Tildi knew, she was in Kenzie’s arms. “Thank you. I’m so glad Boone found you. He’s like a different person. It’s a miracle, and it’s all because of you.”
Tildi wasn’t sure about that, but she hoped her new friend was right.