Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
One thing Rebecca could do was bake.
She hadn’t had much time in years, though, to make pies outside of for Thanksgiving, but Liam always loved her pies. It didn’t matter what kind she made—pumpkin, apple, coconut cream, strawberry…
They always said that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, but while she already had Liam’s love, wouldn’t it be something special if she could incorporate pies for Valentine’s Day?
Hmm. Which pie to make, though?
Rebecca was working at the ranch the next day when the idea came to her. Normally, she and Liam would try to time their schedules so they could eat together, but she just called him and let him know that she had to run an errand and that he could eat when he had the time.
He seemed a bit preoccupied, which she tried to push aside. Naturally he was busy. The bulk of the ranch ownership fell on him. If she had more hours in a day…
But she didn’t. All she could do was try her best, even though she felt like she was failing on so many fronts.
Soon, Rebecca pulled her jacket tighter against the slightly chilly February wind as she stepped into the grocery store. She plastered a smile on her face that quickly turned real as a spark of determination lit her heart. She didn’t have much time before she would have to return to the ranch to get back to work, and she did need to eat at least a little something too.
Just then, her phone buzzed. She took it out of her pocket and smiled. Liam had sent her a selfie of himself with his sandwich, smiling that easy, trusting smile that still made her heart flutter, even after all these years.
Okay, maybe it was something as sweet as that tiny gesture that was all that was needed because she could feel her cheeks grow warm.
After grabbing a cart, she pushed it toward the produce section, her mind racing with ideas. She was going to make him pies—ten of them, to be exact. One for every Valentine’s Day they’d shared together since their wedding. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly when their spark had started to dim, but she refused to let it go out. Liam deserved to know how much he meant to her, and Rebecca was determined to show him in the best way she knew how.
Through love, prayer, and pie.
Ten pies…
Even though she was short on time, Rebecca pulled over to the side and quickly typed out a list of what she would need. Then, she got to work. Apples, peaches, blackberries, and pecans quickly found their way into her cart, along with lemons, chocolate, and a bag of frozen cherries. As she passed the baking aisle, she grabbed flour, sugar, and more butter than she’d ever bought in one trip before. A small smile tugged at her lips when she spotted a container of whipped cream, and she quickly tossed it in for good measure. Liam would love that.
Rebecca hesitated in front of the spice rack, scanning the rows of tiny jars for cinnamon and nutmeg. As she reached for them, an elderly woman nearby gave her a knowing look.
“Planning a big baking day?” the woman asked with a warm smile.
Rebecca laughed softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Something like that. My husband’s got a sweet tooth, and I’ve got some making up to do.”
The woman nodded. “You’re a good wife, dear. A little sweetness goes a long way.”
Rebecca’s heart warmed at the kind words.
By the time Rebecca made her way to the checkout, her cart was overflowing. She caught a glimpse of herself in the reflective freezer door and chuckled. She looked every bit the part of a woman on a mission of love, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling with purpose.
As she loaded the groceries into her car, Rebecca whispered a prayer. “Lord, help me remind Liam how much I love him. Not just with these pies but with everything I do.”
Turning onto the long dirt road that led back to the ranch, Rebecca couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Liam’s face when he saw what she’d been up to. Ten pies might be a lot, but for her cowboy, it was worth every ounce of effort. Valentine’s Day would be sweeter than ever this year.
R ebecca eased out of bed, holding her breath as the mattress creaked beneath her. She glanced over her shoulder at Liam. Her husband was still sound asleep, his arm draped over the blanket. The soft sounds of her children’s breathing drifted from the other rooms, the house quiet and still. Perfect. She slipped her feet into her slippers, grabbed her robe, and tiptoed out of the bedroom.
In the kitchen, she turned on the stove light. The dim glow cast a cozy warmth over the space. Rebecca had already laid out her ingredients in the pantry earlier that day, carefully hidden among the everyday staples. She pulled out the apples, flour, sugar, and cinnamon, her heart racing with excitement. Tonight, she was going to bake the first pie—a classic apple. She figured it would be the easiest to start with, and if Liam somehow found it tomorrow, he wouldn’t think twice about her making his favorite dessert.
Quietly, she peeled and sliced the apples, the soft thud-thud of the knife against the cutting board sounding louder than it should have. Every few minutes, she paused to listen for any signs of stirring from upstairs. Satisfied the house remained asleep, she mixed the filling, the warm scent of cinnamon and nutmeg wafting into the air. It already smelled heavenly.
The trouble began when Rebecca reached for the flour. As she pulled the bag from the shelf, her elbow caught the edge of the sugar canister, sending it tumbling to the floor with a loud clang . She froze, her heart pounding, waiting to hear if anyone woke up. When no one came down the stairs, she exhaled a shaky breath and set about cleaning the mess.
Unfortunately, that was only the beginning. She overworked the pie crust, which stubbornly refused to roll out evenly, no matter how much she coaxed it. It tore when she draped it over the pie plate, forcing her to start over. By the time she finally got it right, the filling seemed a little dry. Rebecca shrugged and added more sugar, hoping it would balance out.
When the pie finally went into the oven, Rebecca sank into a chair at the kitchen table, exhausted but pleased with herself. However, the smell of something burning pulled her out of her daze a short while later. She rushed to the oven, opening it to find apple filling bubbling over the edges and dripping onto the bottom of the oven, where it charred into a smoky mess.
“Oh no, no, no!” she whispered, grabbing a towel to fan away the smoke.
Rebecca pulled the pie out and set it on the counter. The crust was unevenly browned, and the filling looked far too runny. She poked it with a fork, watching the middle sag in defeat. This wasn’t just a pie.
It was a disaster.
Her shoulders slumped as she cleaned the oven, frustrated and disappointed. How was she going to bake nine more pies if she couldn’t even get one right?
Still, as Rebecca looked at the imperfect dessert sitting on the counter, she couldn’t help but smile. It might not be perfect, but it was made with love. Tomorrow, she would try again. For now, she would have to hope the smell of burnt sugar didn’t tip Liam off in the morning.