Chapter Three
Holly walked the entire length of the meat counter in the local grocery store on Tuesday morning and then turned her cart around and started back. She considered steak au poivre but figured that was far too fancy.
“But he would probably like a nice roast served with mashed potatoes, green beans, hot rolls, and maybe since I’m already making bread, I can make cinnamon rolls for dessert,” she whispered.
“I don’t know about whoever you are cooking for, but I’ll go home with you,” a voice behind her said.
She turned around to face a good-looking cowboy with a big smile on his face. “You don’t think that’s too heavy for this time of year?”
“No, ma’am. It’s good old comfort food that any feller would love to have on the table when he comes in from a hard day’s work. Add some cold sweet tea, or better yet, a beer. You don’t remember me, do you?”
He looked vaguely familiar when she stared right into his face, but she couldn’t place him. “I’m sorry. Have we met before?”
“I’m Hank from the speed-dating event,” he said.
“Oh. I’m sorry, but there were so many guys who sat down at my table.”
“Are you still into watching sunsets?” Hank asked.
That question brought him back to her mind. “Yes, I am. There’s nothing more beautiful.”
“I disagree,” Hank said with a grin. “I’m looking at something far prettier than a sunset, and besides, when the sun’s dropped below the horizon, it’s gone. You are gorgeous twenty-four seven.”
“Great pickup line, Hank,” she said with a giggle, “but I seem to recall you are out for a good time, and sunsets would bore you to tears.”
“And I said you might change my mind, especially if you are making all that food for supper,” he teased.
“I don’t think so,” she singsonged, and pushed her cart on down to where the roasts were displayed.
“Can’t blame a cowboy for trying,” he whispered as he brushed against her shoulder when he walked past her.
“Have a nice day,” she said without looking at him.
She had felt absolutely nothing at his touch. That meant she didn’t have an attraction to all cowboys, and only to Bubba.
On the way home, she stopped at a traffic light and noticed a man in bibbed overalls and a straw hat on a riding lawn mower with a little boy sitting in front of him.
A visual of Bubba on a tractor with his son right beside him flashed in her mind.
She glanced up into the rearview mirror to see if she was as green with jealousy as she felt.
A car honked behind her and startled her so badly that she gunned the old truck through the now-green light and shook the picture from her mind.
The rest of the way back to the house, she reminded herself repeatedly that she was only Lula Ann for the rest of the week, and that nothing could come of a relationship built on a big fat lie.
She patted the dash of the truck. “I’m sorry I treated you so badly back there. I’ll pay better attention from now on. I wouldn’t want Darlene’s grandpa to look down from heaven and put a curse on me for stomping the gas pedal so hard.”
She recognized Darlene’s ringtone when the phone rang, just as she was parking in the gravel driveway. She hit the FaceTime icon and saw that her friend wasn’t nearly as pale as she had been the day before. “Well, hello to you. Do you feel well enough to fly into Houston?”
“I do not. My doctor says that my ears are still inflamed and flying would cause problems,” Darlene said.
“As you know, I’m putting the house on the market after this week.
You are having such a good time there, why don’t you think about buying it?
I’ll give you a good deal, and you could use it as your getaway from the city, home away from home.
I even promise to come visit you when we can get our vacation times lined up. ”
“No way. I barely get a weekend off a month,” Holly said.
“Just thought I’d throw that out there in case you wanted it. Now let me live vicariously through you. What are you making for this new handsome cowboy for dinner?” Darlene asked.
Holly rattled off her plans. “And it’s supper when I’m Lula Ann, not dinner. In this house we have breakfast, dinner, and supper.”
Darlene laughed so hard that she got the hiccups. “Yes, ma’am, Ms. Lula Ann. Either the house or the name is causing a change in you. My grandparents called the three meals the same thing you just said. If you don’t buy the place, you’ll regret it.”
“What I’m going to regret when I leave here on Saturday is that I never get to be Lula Ann again,” she said, the idea of buying the house still in her mind.
Despite what she’d said, she would like a country house in a smaller neighborhood to use as a retreat.
She would like to live in a place that had goats and chickens, but they would all starve if she had to care for them. But that was all just a pipe dream.
“You could put on your alter ego anytime you wanted if you owned the house,” Darlene told her. “I can actually hear the gears turning in your head.”
“Then you should also hear them knowing that would be a silly thing for me to do. Besides, it wouldn’t be the same without Bubba,” she said. “I’ve got to get all these groceries in the house and put on a rising of bread.”
“Now you are just being evil. You know how much I love your fresh, hot rolls.” Darlene groaned.
“You should have had a nanny like mine, who made me learn to cook, sew, and clean. I’ll call you later tonight. Feel better.”
The aroma of bread wafting out of the house made Miles stop and inhale several times on his way across the lawn. He held the white wine in one hand and set the red wine down on the wooden porch and was about to knock on the door when it swung open.
Lula Ann took his breath away, and for a full thirty seconds he could do nothing but stare.
Her curly red hair was twisted up on top of her head, but a few strands had fallen and framed her delicate face.
A button-down shirt with the collar turned up hung to the hem of a pair of cut-off denim shorts, and she was barefoot.
“You are a little early. I’ve been cooking all afternoon and haven’t had time to get all dressed up for you,” she said, and bent down to get the wine on the porch.
“You brought two kinds. That’s wonderful.
We can have the red with supper, and the white with dessert.
I’ll put this six-pack of beer in the fridge for you. ”
“Thank you,” Miles said. “Is that bread I smell?”
“Yes, it is. I just took the hot rolls out of the oven, and we’ll have cinnamon rolls for dessert with a little ice cream on the side to cut the sweet,” she answered and led the way into the kitchen.
“What can I do to help?” he asked.
“Not a thing. Just sit down, and I’ll put it on the table,” she answered.
“All right if I wash up in the kitchen sink?”
“Sure thing. By the time you get your hands dried, we’ll be ready to eat.”
“I could get used to this kind of life,” Miles said as he rolled up the sleeves of his pearl snap shirt.
“Beer or wine?” she asked.
“I’ll have wine with you tonight,” he answered.
The table setting reminded him of his grandmother’s house, which wasn’t a lot bigger than the one Lula Ann lived in. She had set the table with mismatched dishes, used jelly glasses for the sweet tea, water, and wine, and took the roast straight to the table in a cast-iron Dutch oven.
A paper towel lined the basket for the steaming-hot bread. She used a crock bowl for the green beans, and the potatoes were piled high in one that had yellow flowers on the sides.
“This all looks amazing, and smells even better,” Miles said. “Do you say grace?”
“Why don’t you do it for us?” she suggested.
He reached over and laid his hand over hers and said a short blessing.
If only he hadn’t been so stupid as to put his name down as Bubba on the speed-dating app, things might have been different between them.
Now, if he told her his real name and owned up to who he really was, she would most likely never trust him again.
When he finished the prayer, he removed his hand and reached for a hot roll. “I haven’t had rolls like these since my grandmother passed away.”
“You said that you could get used to this,” she said. “Why haven’t you?”
He hadn’t had a really serious thought about settling down just yet. Sure, he was buying a ranch and had figured that sometime in the future he might be ready for a long-term commitment, but there was plenty of time for that—later down the road.
“Well?” she asked.
“The time hasn’t been right, and like I said before, I haven’t met the right woman,” he answered.
“That doesn’t leave much room for comfort-food suppers,” Lula Ann told him.
“No, but this meal reminds me of sitting down with my grandparents for supper. They were married more than fifty years when Grandpa died. Granny passed away a week later, and my mama swore it was from a broken heart. That’s the kind of relationship I want—when I decide to settle down.”
Lula Ann handed him the carving knife and motioned toward the iron skillet. “And when do you figure you’ll be ready to stop your playboy days?”
“Maybe when I’m forty,” he answered, and laid a slice of roast on her plate before helping himself. “How about you?”
She passed him the bowl of mashed potatoes after she had taken out a portion for herself. “Hadn’t given it much thought. I figure it’ll happen when the time is right. Right now I’m too busy to think about settling down and starting a family.”
“One day at a time?”
“Sweet Jesus.” She finished the line of the old gospel song.
Miles chuckled. “You got it, darlin’.”
“How did your day go?” Lula Ann asked.
“Wonderfully well. My dog, Turbo, and I checked the cattle and …” He stopped himself in time before he said that he was moving soon.
“And what?”
“August is busy on the ranch. It’s boring conversation,” he answered.
“I like the sound of your voice, and besides, I’m interested, so tell me what August means to a cowboy.”