Chapter Five #3
Yet instead of blustering in frustration or sinking into a depression, the guy was in here, floating around her kitchen, trying to make the best of whatever miniscule detail he could recall.
She liked knowing that he was a glass-half-full kind of person.
Kevin Boswell, her ex-boyfriend, had always been such a pessimist, thinking the world was out to get him.
And Dave, even though he wasn’t ever anything more than a friend, was always so melancholy and down that Chloe’s spirits sank whenever she was around either of them.
“So, how does one make tamales?” she asked.
“I had to double-check on the internet, which brought up more recipes and instructions than you can believe. And although there are lots of different methods, the one that seemed the most familiar is a two-day process anyway. So tonight I cooked the filling with some pork I found in the freezer. We can eat some of that over the rice I made.”
“Boy, you have been busy,” Chloe said, her admiration growing.
“I hope you don’t mind me making myself at home.”
“Of course not.” How could she when she saw the excitement in his eyes, something she hadn’t noticed before? “Mi casa es su casa.”
He chuckled at her attempt to speak Spanish. “Tomorrow, when Tomas brings me some masa and some corn husks, I’ll be able to make the dough and assemble everything together.” He replaced the lid on one of the pans he had on the stove.
She liked seeing him comfortable in the kitchen, but she was even happier to know that he’d be spending one more day in the house and not out on the ranch, trying to attempt more strenuous chores. This way, he felt useful, and they were both winners.
As she began to put away the groceries she’d purchased earlier, Joe zeroed in on the sugar, vanilla, oranges and dried cranberries.
“Is that for the scones you were talking about?” he asked.
“Yes, I thought I’d make them this evening.”
“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to make some cookies one of these days.”
“Of course. I have some great family recipes. It wouldn’t be Christmas without a variety of goodies.”
At that, his eyes brightened like a child standing in front of a bakery display case.
“You must like sweets,” she said.
“I think you’re right.”
Another memory, it seemed. But not one they could build upon.
“Do you like to bake?” he asked.
“Yes, especially at this time of year. That’s why I wanted to make the scones tonight. We always used to eat them when we decorated the house for Christmas.”
In all honesty, Chloe would much rather spend the day baking than making a holiday meal.
“You mentioned being hungry,” he said, “and dinner is ready. Do you want to eat before you make the scones?”
“It won’t take me long to whip up the dough—unless you’re too hungry to wait.”
“I’m okay. I ate the rest of the tuna salad for a late afternoon snack. Computer sleuthing is hard work.”
“How did that go, by the way?” Chloe wished she would’ve thought of looking him up online yesterday, but living out at the Rocking C full-time was like being in a technological time warp.
She was usually so busy with the chores and managing the ranch that she rarely had a chance to use the old computer.
She’d often thought of how getting a newer modem or laptop would help streamline the day-to-day management of the ranch, like paying bills, ordering merchandise, and cutting checks to vendors and their two employees.
But at the end of the month, she couldn’t justify the expense.
So she was left with the antiquated system Teresa Cummings had set up at least a decade ago.
“My search went about as well as I expected,” Joe said. “A big fat nada on any information about me, but I did learn some interesting things about Brighton Valley.”
While she mixed the ingredients for the scones and Joe wiped down the countertops, he filled her in on what he’d discovered online.
She set the oven timer just as he finished washing the mixing bowl and the pots he’d used.
“By the way, I hope you don’t mind that I got into the pantry and the freezer without asking if it was okay.”
She laughed. “Even if I’d had plans to use that pork you found in the freezer or the rice and beans, I’m too hungry to object.”
As he placed the bowls of food on the table, she set out the plates and silverware. Then they both took their seats.
After eating the first delicious bite and savoring the taste, she said, “You must be a chef or something in your real life. This is way too good to be chow-hall fare. What’d you put in the sauce?”
“I just threw in some seasonings I found in the spice cabinet.”
He’d certainly made himself at home in what she’d once considered her domain, but if he could whip up meals like this, she’d be the last one to complain. Besides, it had been ages since someone had cooked for her. And if truth be told, she liked being a guest instead of the hostess.
As they dug into their meal and silence stretched between them, she couldn’t help letting her thoughts drift to Sam, Ethel and the other patients on the third floor of the Sheltering Arms. And as she did, her worry grew.
She had to do something, but what? She no longer worked there, so her hands were tied.
“What’s wrong?” Joe asked.
Had her heavy thoughts been so obvious? “Why do you ask?”
“You seem sad and preoccupied.”
“I visited my friends at the nursing home today and...” She paused, wondering how much to divulge.
If she confided too much in him, she’d have to tell him about being fired.
And then she’d have to defend her actions, or risk having him think she was a flake or a screw up or worse.
And she didn’t like the idea of him questioning her abilities.
So she finished the sentence she’d started. “It just makes me sad. That’s all.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” Eager to change the subject, she added, “I picked up a Christmas tree while I was in town. Maybe, after dinner, you can help me bring it inside and decorate it.”
“Sure, I’d be glad to.”
As she dug back into the scrumptious meal Joe had cooked, she pondered her usual holiday traditions. Yet for some reason, she didn’t seem quite as lonely as before. Nor did she think she would miss the family Christmas in New York as much as she’d once thought she would.
She might have wanted to help Joe get through the holidays this year, but now it seemed that he was helping her.
And she looked forward to creating a few new Christmas memories—with him.