Chapter Nine
J ordyn learned quickly that falling from grace was a painful experience.
Three days after winning the Terrible Tinsel Triathlon, she stood in the kitchen of her cabin, waving her arms furiously to dispel the black smoke that once again billowed through her home.
“Heavens! How did this happen?” she moaned.
The day had started well enough. She’d gotten up early, drank a hot cup of coffee, fed and petted Star before letting the mare out into the field to stretch her legs, then spent almost half an hour admiring the mountain range behind her cabin. Today was warmer and the sun was bright, casting a golden glow over the rolling foothills of Chestnut Ridge. She had taken a moment to breathe it all in, closing her eyes and inhaling the clean mountain air, standing beside Fabio Frazer, savoring the woodsy aroma of the beautiful tree and reminiscing over her first-place win in the triathlon days before.
It had been surreal hearing the cheers of Noel’s residents as she received her first-place ribbon. She hadn’t expected the moment to feel so thrilling. The applause, the smiles, and the admiring glances of her neighbors had filled her heart to overflowing and made her eager to tackle a new contest and emerge a winner again. For the first time since arriving in Noel, she’d truly felt as though she belonged.
So, after scrubbing off all the candy cane syrup and tinsel that still clung to her (which had taken a lot longer than she’d expected), she and Kandy had gone on a shopping trip to town that same afternoon, browsing the shelves in several local stores and gathering up various ingredients to create the tastiest—and most beautiful—Christmas cookies known to man.
After all, the Christmas Cookie Crumble was the next contest scheduled, and Jordyn had every intention of winning with the help of Kandy’s advice. And boy, did Kandy have a lot of advice—though she’d stopped short of physically helping Jordyn prep the ingredients, as Kandy considered anything more than verbal advice to be an act of cross-conspiring, which was against the rules.
After unloading a pile of ingredients, cookie sheets, and over a dozen recipes onto the countertops in Jordyn’s kitchen, Kandy had left her to it, leaving Chestnut Ridge and advising her to bake several test batches of cookies before preparing the final three dozen she would need to enter tomorrow’s contest.
“It’s simple,” Kandy had said. “Just follow the recipes.”
Yeah, right!
Jordyn, arms outstretched, coughed as she groped her way through the black smoke toward the window in the living room. Judging from the simple directions, Jordyn had felt sure that baking would be an easy endeavor. But she discovered pretty quickly that it took a lot more than stirring a few ingredients together and punching a button on an oven to create a batch of beautiful—and tasty—Christmas cookies.
Shoving the window open, she stuck her head out into the winter air and inhaled, filling her lungs with clean oxygen as she simultaneously waved clouds of smoke out of the cabin. She tugged her cell phone from the back pocket of her jeans and, once the smoke had cleared enough for her to be able to see, quickly dialed Kandy’s number.
“Merry Christmas, Jordyn!” Kandy greeted her over the line. “How’re things going?”
“Merry, indeed,” Jordyn grumbled, covering the phone with one hand briefly as another round of coughing overtook her. “I’m in a bit of a bind, Kandy.”
“What do you mean? Did we forget an ingredient? Or do you not like the recipes?”
“I don’t think it has anything to do with the ingredients or the recipes.” Jordyn continued waving smoke away furiously. “I think it has to do with me.”
“How so?” Kandy asked.
Jordyn sighed. “I told you I had no experience with cooking or baking. In all my twenty-five years of life, I’ve only cooked twice, and both times involved popping something in the microwave for less than five minutes. I really wanted to win this next contest, too, but I never imagined how difficult it would be to slap together a few dozen cookies. Quite frankly, I’m simply no good in the kitchen!”
“Oh, Jordyn,” Kandy said gently. “You mustn’t underestimate yourself. It takes practice to perfect a spectacular Christmas cookie—especially when you have little experience cooking. Just continue practicing like I told you and you’ll get it. You still have the rest of today to bake before the contest tomorrow.”
“If I put any more dough in that oven,” Jordyn said, “I’ll end up burning the house down!” A second round of coughing overwhelmed her. “As it stands, my cabin is already full of smoke for the second time since I moved in.”
Kandy gasped. “Oh, my! Did you forget to put the timer on?”
“No,” Jordyn sputtered. “I mixed the dough, kneaded it, rolled it into little balls on the pan then put it in the oven at exactly the right temperature. Every single batch has only been in that oven for five minutes before the dough bursts into flames. The cookies turn into crispy critters faster than I can haul them back out of the oven!”
A sound of dismay crossed the line, then Kandy said, “Oh, dear. Perhaps there’s something wrong with the oven.”
Jordyn frowned. “You mean like there was a problem with the fireplace? Oh, sweet Lord! I’m not sure how many more problems I can handle and still put on a decent performance in the rest of the Christmas competition.”
“Well, don’t panic. Every problem has a solution. We just have to think of one.”
“I’ve got a solution.” As the smoke began to clear from inside the cabin, Jordyn leaned her elbows onto the windowsill and inhaled a much-needed lungful of clean mountain air. “How about you come back over here and walk me through baking at least one batch of cookies to see if you can determine where the problem’s originating? Or better yet, how about I come over to your place and use your oven?”
Kandy tsked her tongue. “Oh, no. That won’t do. Not at all. I’m your mentor, not your teammate. My offering you anything other than advice—especially physical help baking those cookies—would violate the rules of the competition. I promised Carol Belle that I’d only mentor you, not engage in—”
Jordyn groaned. “I know, I know. No cross-conspiring, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Then what do you suggest I do?”
“I don’t know at the moment,” Kandy said. “But don’t panic. You still have several hours to figure it out and I’m sure—”
The familiar sound of an engine rumbled up the long driveway leading to Jordyn’s cabin. She glanced to her left where a truck was pulling to a stop out front.
“I’m sorry, Kandy, I’ve got to go. I’ve got guests. Tucker’s brought Roxie by again, I think.” Jordyn left the window and headed for the front door. “Thank you for helping me get the ingredients and recipes together. I’ll give my dilemma some thought and figure it out somehow.”
“And please let me know what you decide to do,” Kandy asked.
“Yep. Will do.” Jordyn said her goodbyes, disconnected the call, returned her cell phone to her back pocket, then opened the front door.
Immediately recognizing the truck parked in front of her cabin, Jordyn smiled as the passenger door opened and Roxie hopped out. But the ripple of joy she felt at the sight of the little girl shifted to nervous tension as instead of Tucker, Nate slid out of the truck and followed Roxie as she ran ahead.
“Hi, Ms. Jordyn!” Roxie skipped up the front steps, threw her arms around Jordyn’s waist and pressed her cheek to Jordyn’s middle. “Merry Christmas and congratulations again on your first-place win!”
Smiling, Jordyn hugged her back. “Thank you, and Merry Christmas to you, too! I’m so happy to see you. I don’t get many visitors other than the Nanas.”
“I was hoping you’d be home.” Roxie released her and stepped back, smiling up at her with a hopeful expression. “I wanted to see if it would be okay for me to visit Star again.”
“Of course! You’re more than welcome to visit Star anytime you’d like. She’s already had a run for today though, I’m afraid. She’s settled snug and comfy in her stall for a nap.”
“If she’s not asleep, is it okay if I . . .” Roxie’s voice trailed away as her gaze fixed on the open window where black tendrils of smoke still slithered over the windowsill and curled up into the cold winter air. “Ms. Jordyn, something’s burning in your house!”
Jordyn winced. “Yeah. I’m afraid I had a little trouble in the kitchen today.”
Nate, striding up the front steps to join them on the porch, glanced at the smoke wafting from the window, then swept his gaze over Jordyn from head to toe before meeting her eyes. “Are you okay?”
The concern in his tone warmed her on the inside.
“Yep.” She smiled brighter and shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans, trying to hide the tremors running through her. “I just gave baking a try for the first time in my life and, unfortunately, it didn’t turn out so well.”
Nate’s tense posture relaxed as a slow smile spread across his face. “Getting ready for the Christmas Cookie Crumble, are you?”
Jordyn nodded. “Or, at least, trying to.”
Gracious! Even though his rejection of her suggestion that they date still stung, she found him as gorgeous as ever.
Look away. Look away!
She tried desperately to pry her gaze from his, but after three full days of absence, his charismatic appeal was a balm to her senses and . . . she’d missed him. Biting her lip, she ducked her head. Oh, boy. There it was.
She’d missed him.
It’d only been three days since she last saw him, but it felt like a year. And now, face-to-face with him, she felt as though Christmas had arrived early, bringing Nate Reed to his romantic senses—and her front door—on a beautiful winter’s morning.
Only, that was a silly fantasy, seeing as how Nate had told her himself that he wasn’t available—and quite possibly not interested in her at all.
“I’m sorry if we disturbed you,” Nate said softly, still holding her gaze. “But Roxie was anxious to see Star again, and Tucker said you didn’t mind when he brought her by to visit the other day, so I thought . . .”
“Oh, I don’t mind at all. Roxie’s welcome to visit Star anytime. I mean that,” she said, smiling brighter. “Really. As a matter of fact, why don’t I take y’all out to the stables now and let her have a visit?” Jordyn leaned back inside the door, grabbed her coat from the coatrack, then joined them on the porch and led the way toward the stable.
As they approached the entrance, Roxie took off, jogging inside, then slowing her steps as she approached Star’s stable. The white mare, warm and comfortable beneath her Christmas blanket, lifted her nose in greeting as Roxie strolled over.
“Hello, Star,” Roxie whispered, pressing her hands together in front of her middle. “I came to visit you.”
Jordyn grinned. “You can pet her if you’d like. She likes being stroked on the neck, especially.”
Smiling broadly, Roxie lifted her hand tentatively and stroked Star’s thick neck. Star dipped her head and nuzzled Roxie’s small hand, making her giggle.
“She likes me!”
“Of course, she does,” Jordyn said. “What’s not to like?”
“Can I come by and see her tomorrow, too?” Roxie asked, smiling over her shoulder at Jordyn. “And if she’s hungry when we get back from the cookie contest, maybe I can feed her some more apple slices?”
“I don’t see why n—”
“Roxie, it’s not polite to just invite yourself ov—”
Jordyn glanced at Nate as they both stopped talking. As his face flushed, she smiled, leaned closer and whispered, “Yeah. It’s better to just show up, isn’t it?”
Nate stared straight ahead but his mouth kicked up. “You got me,” he whispered. “A gentleman would’ve called you before showing up on your front porch—especially after our, er . . . mutually agreed-upon arrangement as friendly enemies. Guess I no longer qualify as a gentleman.”
Jordyn laughed. “I wouldn’t say that.” Raising her voice, she said, “Roxie, you’re welcome to visit Star anytime you’d like so long as you have your dad or uncle’s permission.”
“Thank you, Ms. Jordyn!”
“Speaking of the cookie contest,” Nate said, glancing over at her. “You plan on giving baking another shot, or are you hanging up your apron?”
The teasing gleam in his blue eyes stole her breath. “Why? Are you hoping I’ll bow out of the contest and lessen the challenge for you, Neighbor Nate?”
He laughed. “No, not at all. Roxie and I are pros at baking and decorating Christmas cookies, and Tucker can pack away more of ’em than an elephant, in one sitting, so I have no doubt that our team will walk away with a first-place win tomorrow.”
“Oh, really?” Crossing her arms over her chest, Jordyn narrowed her eyes and asked playfully, “But that’d be so much easier for you if I just happened not to show up with three dozen Christmas cookies and a healthy appetite, wouldn’t it?”
Nate grinned. “Possibly.”
“Uncle Tucker always eats the most cookies,” Roxie said as she continued stroking Star’s neck. “He eats so many that no one else can keep up with him and they crumble.” She smiled proudly. “Dad says that’s why they call it the Christmas Cookie Crumble. Because everyone but the winner crumbles during the eating part of the contest.”
Nate chuckled. “Yep. It’s a shame you won’t get to participate. I’d love to see how many Christmas cookies you could scarf down before folding.”
“But she could still play.” Roxie stopped petting Star and walked over, slipping her hand in Jordyn’s. “Dad makes the best Christmas cookies in Noel, and he could show you how to make ’em, too, couldn’t you, Dad?”
Nate tilted his head and pursed his lips, considering this. “I won’t argue with you.” He winked at Jordyn. “I am the best Christmas cookie cook in Noel.”
Jordyn grinned. “Well, I know my lack of baking experience is contributing to my failure, but I think my oven may be the real problem. It’s been officially added to Chestnut Ridge’s In Need of Repair list.”
“If your oven’s broken, you can use an oven at our house!” Roxie beamed up at her. “We have two of ’em.”
Jordyn glanced at Nate in surprise and the lighthearted expression on his face faded.
“Macy—Roxie’s mom—loved to cook,” he said. “Especially during the holidays. She insisted on a state-of-the-art kitchen when we built our house.”
Jordyn nodded, a bittersweet ache spreading through her belly. The tenderness in his tone as he spoke of his late wife was all too clear. Oh, how much he must’ve loved her!
Throat tightening, she whispered, “I see.”
“So, can she, Dad?” Roxie asked. “Can Ms. Jordyn come cook Christmas cookies with us?”
Jordyn glanced at Nate, noting the hesitancy in his expression. “I don’t know about that, Roxie. It’s nice of you to offer, but you and your dad are on a different team than me, and it’s against the rules for one team to help another in the Christmas competition. It’s—”
“Cross-conspiring,” Nate said quietly.
Roxie frowned. “But . . . Ms. Jordyn’s our friend. And she’s our neighbor, Dad. And you said we should always help our neighbors when they’re in need.” She squeezed Jordyn’s hand. “We could help her with her cookies as friends and not as another team.”
Nate grinned down at Roxie but remained silent.
Jordyn cringed. Oh, boy. Nate had already made it clear he wasn’t interested in spending time with her, yet here they were, standing in her stable while his daughter begged him to invite her into his home. He must truly feel as though he were stuck between a rock and a hard place.
“It’s a very sweet idea, Roxie,” Jordyn hastened to add, “but—”
“But we’ll need to help Jordyn gather her ingredients and load them in the truck before we can take her home and introduce her to our ovens.” Nate smiled at Jordyn. “How ’bout Roxie and I help you pack up your sugar and flour? We need to head over to Frosted Firs Ranch and get started soon if we’re going to whip up six dozen Christmas cookies before the contest tomorrow.”
“Yay!” Roxie released Jordyn’s hand and darted out of the stable. “Come on, Ms. Jordyn. We’re gonna make Christmas cookies together!”
“But . . .” Jordyn watched Roxie run off, then faced Nate again, the tentative smile on his face surprising her. “Y’all helping me is cross-conspiring. You understand that, right?”
He shrugged. “Only if we make the cookies for you—which we won’t. Using someone else’s oven to bake your cookies is only a technicality, seeing as how yours is broken. Even the Nanas would understand that.”
“But . . .” Jordyn rubbed her forehead, overwhelmed by a mix of excitement, hesitation, and confusion. “You told me that we should only be friendly enemies, neighbors at best. And that we . . . shouldn’t spend more time together.” She swallowed hard, her lips trembling. “And yet, you show up at my house unannounced, offering—”
“Christmas cookies and an oven,” Nate said lightly, his gaze holding hers. But his intent gaze belied his easygoing tone. “That’s all.”
So much for being forthright and not sending mixed signals.
“And this is the kitchen,” Nate said, leading Jordyn into the kitchen of the family house at Frosted Firs Ranch. “We have a single galley, with the island running parallel to the prep, sink, and cooking areas. All appliances—including our two ovens—are banked at eye level, and our pantry is well stocked in the event that you need additional ingredients for your cookies.”
Whistling low, Jordyn strode ahead of him, walking to the center of the kitchen. She glanced around, the red waves of her hair rippling over her back as she turned her head, scanning the room. “You told me y’all had a state-of-the-art kitchen, but I don’t think I quite knew what that meant.” She spun around and faced him, her smile bright. “I may not be a cook, but even I can tell that this is amazing, Nate!”
He smiled. Thirty minutes earlier, after he and Roxie had helped Jordyn gather her baking essentials, they’d loaded Jordyn’s cooking materials into his truck and had driven to Frosted Firs Ranch, where he took it upon himself to give Jordyn a formal tour of the family home. He led her from room to room of the three-story house, briefly detailing the high points of interior design in each area and enjoying the delighted expression on her face as she admired the Christmas decorations that he, Roxie, and Tucker had already put up throughout the house.
Her delighted expression had been captivating, but he’d had just as difficult a time keeping his attention from the rest of her. The soft green sweater and stylish jeans she wore highlighted the curves of her figure. As she moved from one room to the next, she had transformed the space around her, brightening every inch of the spacious house with energy that lifted his spirits.
Having her here, in his home, made him feel less alone somehow. Her physical presence brought home the realization that something very precious had been missing from his life.
The effect Jordyn had on him was nothing short of alarming. Every moment he spent with her, she pulled him in deeper with her optimistic smile, vivacious personality and flirtatious humor.
Christmas cookies and an oven , he reminded himself. That’s all. Baking was the only reason he had invited Jordyn over to his home.
But was it?
Already, he could feel himself dreading the moment her visit would end, and his gut hollowed at the thought of driving her back to Chestnut Ridge and watching her walk away from him. The feelings he had for her were so unsettling, the last thing he should do was to throw caution, logic, and common sense to the wind and give in to the urge he felt to spend time with her.
Who knew how long Jordyn planned on staying in Noel? Even though she’d bought Chestnut Ridge, she could, at any moment, decide to return to the rodeo circuit and leave her new domestic life behind. Or she could change her mind about pursuing a romantic relationship with him and decide she’d rather not deal with the potential baggage a widowed single father might bring into her life. And even if he did give in and try dating her, she might find that he wasn’t as exciting or interesting as the men she’d known on the circuit. Men like Tucker, who lived on the edge, chasing adventure and enjoying life’s challenges, might be better suited to her interests than his predictable, organized existence.
And there was one more very important concern—the most important one. Taking a chance on building a romantic relationship with Jordyn wouldn’t just risk his own heart; he’d be risking Roxie’s as well. And allowing Roxie’s heart to be broken . . . well, that was out of the question.
“I can see why you’re such a great Christmas cookie cook,” Jordyn said, slipping her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “With a kitchen like this, anyone can be a chef. This is a cook’s dream!”
Nate nodded. “Thank you. I wish I could take the credit, but Macy was the one who put it together. She taught me everything I know.”
He held Jordyn’s gaze, and after a moment, he looked away and shifted from one boot to the other, his mouth going dry. It was a strange feeling to stand in Macy’s kitchen, just feet away from a charismatic woman who tugged at his heart more than any other . . . including Macy.
“This is my mom’s trophy case!” Roxie, who’d trailed behind them during the tour of the house, slipped past Nate, grabbed Jordyn’s hand in hers and led her to the other end of the kitchen, where a large glass trophy case stood in the corner, each shelf filled with glittery Christmas Crowns of various designs. “These are the Christmas Crowns from the competition. There’s nine in all. My mom and dad won the first three crowns, and then me, my dad, and Uncle Tucker won the other six. The top three my mom and dad won are my favorite. That first has a reindeer in it, the second an angel, and the third a Christmas tree, see? Aren’t they all beautiful?” She looked up at Jordyn and grinned. “If we win this year, we’ll have ten crowns in all! Dad says it’s important that we win this year so we can carry on the family tra—ditch—dish—”
“Tradition,” Nate corrected quietly, meeting Jordyn’s eyes again. “It became a tradition when Macy and I married—winning the crown, I mean.”
“And now you win them in honor of her memory?” Jordyn asked.
He nodded, saying softly, “In a way, yes.”
She looked away, her eyes moving slowly over the nine crowns in the trophy case, her bright smile dimming.
Nate dragged a hand over his face and stifled a groan. Oh, man. Could he possibly be more insensitive? Here he was, having invited Jordyn over to bake Christmas cookies for the contest tomorrow, an event that should be fun and uplifting. A positive activity they could enjoy together as a first, tentative step toward deciding whether he should pursue a relationship with Jordyn. But instead, within less than an hour of entering his home, his focus had returned to Macy and the life—and love—he’d shared with her.
Maybe that was a sign that he should stick with his first decision and keep to the status quo. As it was, he had his hands full running Frosted Firs Ranch and taking care of Roxie. He had no idea whether Jordyn had given any thought to having a child in her life—even one as wonderful as Roxie.
But the last thing he’d ever want to do was to unintentionally hurt Jordyn more than he already had.
“Look.” He clapped his hands together and rubbed them briskly. “Why don’t we get started on these cookies? We’ve got six batches to make and decorate in one evening. The sooner we start, the sooner we’ll finish, and the better chance we’ll have at winning the cookie contest tomorrow.”
Jordyn’s grin returned.
“Before we start,” she said, “I need to make absolutely certain that this isn’t a sabotage attempt.” She lifted one eyebrow as she looked at Roxie. “Is your dad planning to teach me the wrong way to bake cookies so I’ll lose the contest tomorrow?”
Roxie giggled. “No way! He wouldn’t do something like that, and even if he tried, I wouldn’t let him. But I can show you myself how to decorate them, and you’ll have the best cookies ever in the contest tomorrow.”
Jordyn tapped Roxie’s chin with one fingertip, affection in her eyes. “Thank you, sweet Roxie. I feel better about my chances already having you on my team—even if it’s just for a few hours.”
The tenderness in her touch and tone stole Nate’s breath as Roxie beamed with joy, basking in her attention. He was caught off guard by the wave of gratitude that washed through him at the sight of them together. Sometimes, he forgot how much his little girl had missed, having never known what it would be like to have a mother.
“You’ll teach Ms. Jordyn the right way, won’t you, Dad?” Roxie was looking at him now, pride in her eyes. “My dad’s the best cookie decorator in Noel. Everyone says it.”
Nate grinned. “I don’t know about all that, but I’ll be happy to teach Ms. Jordyn everything I know about baking and decorating Christmas cookies.”
Three hours later, with all three of them covered in flour, sugar, colorful sprinkles, and specks of icing, Nate sampled the first of Jordyn’s meticulously decorated Christmas cookies.
“Here goes nothing.” Standing opposite Jordyn at the kitchen island, he broke off a piece of a sugar cookie that had been shaped into a reindeer, and popped it in his mouth, moaning with pleasure as the confection melted on his tongue. “Mercy!” he garbled out around the mouthful of cookie. “That’s what I call a Christmas cookie.”
Jordyn, flour dusting her red hair and coating her left cheek, beamed. “Hot dog! I guess the fifth batch is the charm.”
Roxie, sitting on a stool beside Nate, pinched off a piece of the cookie and popped it into her mouth, too. “Mmm. I told you that you could do it, Ms. Jordyn! These taste even better than Dad’s.”
“Whoa there!” Nate held up his hands as Jordyn and Roxie laughed. “That’s taking the praise a bit too far. It’s impossible for the student to beat the teacher on the first day.”
Jordyn propped her elbows on the island, cradled her chin in her hands and flashed a teasing grin. “I can’t help it if you’re a great teacher. And you should be proud. My accomplishment is your accomplishment.”
He chuckled. “And you winning tomorrow is the same as me winning, is that it?”
“Nah.” Jordyn stuck out her tongue. “If I win, you lose, and that’s that.”
“Who’s losing?” Tucker strolled into the kitchen, holding Roxie’s winter coat in one hand. “You two? Because all I see is a couple of co-conspirators. Y’all got the whole house smelling like a sugar cookie. I oughta turn y’all in to Ms. Carol Belle, but I won’t, seeing as how that would toss me out of the running, too.” He walked over to the island, took a piece of Jordyn’s cookie and sampled it as well. “Whoo! That’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout!” He glanced at Nate. “She’s got you beat, brother.”
“I highly doubt that,” Nate drawled. “I saved my secret ingredient for my last batch of cookies, and it’s bound to knock the Nanas’ socks off.”
“Well then, I’ll leave you to it. But I’ll go ahead and warn you, Jordyn, that half tomorrow’s contest is about how many cookies you can pack away in ten minutes, and ain’t no way you can beat me at that.” As she laughed, he motioned for Roxie to join him. “Come on, kid. Help me round up the horses for the evening while these two finish up in here, okay?”
Nate looked at Tucker, the mischievous sparkle in his brother’s eyes making him narrow his own. Tucker, it seemed, was all too eager to do some matchmaking.
“What?” Tucker spread his arms in a futile gesture of innocence. “You and Jordyn have been entertaining Roxie for hours, so now it’s my turn.” He grinned at Roxie. “You can’t hog my niece all day. Besides, that will give you and Jordyn a chance to talk while you bake.”
Nate cleared his throat. “That’s considerate of you, but unnecess—”
“No sweat.” Tucker held out Roxie’s coat.
Roxie hopped off her barstool and skipped over to Tucker, holding her arms out so he could slide the coat on. “Thanks for baking cookies with us, Ms. Jordyn. You’ll come over again soon, won’t you? We could bake something else together. Maybe the gingerbread for the gingerbread house contest?”
Jordyn smiled but glanced at Nate, apprehension in her gaze. “I’d love that, Roxie, but that’s up to your dad. He might want to keep y’all’s gingerbread baking secret to get a leg up in the competition.”
“No, he won’t.” Roxie frowned at Nate. “You don’t mind if Ms. Jordyn cooks her gingerbread with us, do you?”
Nate stood between Jordyn and Roxie, the weight of their scrutiny making his hands tremble with nervous tension. “We’ll see.”
“Let’s take care of the horses, Roxie,” Tucker said quickly. “Your dad and Ms. Jordyn have earned some time to themselves.” He looked at Nate and winked. “Drink some coffee, relax, sample a few more cookies. Try having a little fun for a change—it’ll do you good.”
With that, Tucker led Roxie out of the kitchen, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.
Nate looked down at the pan of cookies before him, removed the lid from a container sitting nearby and began carefully stacking the cookies inside. “Sorry about that,” he said. “Tucker has a habit of sticking his nose into other people’s business.”
Jordyn laughed softly. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that. But . . .”
He reached for another cookie, but her hand covered his, her soft fingertips resting lightly over his knuckles as she stilled his movements.
“He has a point,” she continued. “I don’t mean to put you on the spot again, Nate. But I have to admit, you’re confusing me, and I thought you intended to be honest, seeing as how you were so upfront when I asked if you were interested in me.” Hesitating, she asked softly, “Why did you really come to Chestnut Ridge today? And why did you ask me over? You made it clear to me you aren’t available, so I don’t understand why—”
“Because . . .” Nate turned his hand over, weaving his fingers between hers and squeezing gently before his mind could talk his heart out of it. “I’ve reconsidered my answer.”