Chapter 15
T he next day Bailey worked in the kitchen. Her morning patrol was complete. The ranch was quiet, minus the activity now taking place at its center. She could neither stomach another day of boredom nor a day of staring at Cal, mooney-eyed, as he worked. So she asked Estralita if she could make supper. Estralita’s reaction had been a bit more insecure than Bailey would have imagined, as if she thought maybe Bailey was trying to take over her kitchen. Bailey put her mind at ease by asking if she would handle dessert.
“I can cook okay, but I’m hopeless at baking,” she confessed to the older woman.
“I can make peach cobbler, it’s the Senor’s favorite.”
Bailey hugged her. “Estralita, you are worth your weight in gold.”
“I’ll show you how sometime, yes?” Estralita replied, returning her hug.
“You can try, but I’m kind of hopeless when it comes to anything that involves flour,” Bailey told her.
But now, in the kitchen and working on supper, she felt soothed and at peace. Cooking always had that effect, regardless of how little she did it. She was often too busy to bother but, as with everything she did, she gave it a thousand percent. She hadn’t stopped trying until she’d perfected the recipe she was making tonight. It was her showstopper. As it was likely the only meal she would ever cook here, it had to be amazing.
She made the rice, assembled everything, and left it to stew before heading outside. Sully arrived as she reached her spot at the fence.
“Hey, you made it,” Bailey said, bumping his shoulder as he came to stand beside her.
“Wouldn’t have missed it, thanks for the invite. How’s it going here?” he nodded toward the hive of men now putting the calves through their paces with a practiced ferocity.
“I don’t know. I’ve been in the kitchen all day. The rest of the ranch has been quiet, disturbingly so. Wouldn’t you think it would be the other way? They know calving is going on. This is their chance to create havoc. But it’s crickets out there. It’s making me antsy.”
“Either you scared them off or they’re taking their time, planning something big,” Sully said. “Guess what I heard at the jail the other day?”
“What’s that?” she asked. She linked her arm with his. Somewhere along the way her mild loathing of him had turned to a brotherly sort of affection, and he seemed to feel the same about her.
“They have a nickname for you.”
“The jail?”
“The members of the cartel who are currently incarcerated,” he said.
“What is it?” she asked, already smiling in amused anticipation.
“ La diabla loca. Crazy she devil.”
“They may be terrible people, but that’s a cool nickname,” she said.
“That’s a cool nickname,” he agreed.
Cal caught sight of them and jogged over, resting his hands on the fence on either side of Bailey’s. “Anything to report, Major Dunbar?”
“All’s right as rain, boss,” she said.
“With an expression like that, you’re sounding almost local,” he said. “Hey, Sul,” he turned to the ranger, smiling. “What brings you out? Some kind of trouble?”
“No, some kind of supper. La diabla loca is cooking.”
Cal bestowed his attention once again on Bailey. “Is that right?”
“How’d you know he was talking about me?”
“Who else, darlin’? Paella?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, I can hardly wait. Want to come in here a bit?” he offered.
She held up her hands, palms out. “Don’t want to get my fingers dirty today.”
“Sissy,” he said. He took off his hat and placed it on her head before turning to rejoin the fray.
“You know, ‘round here giving a woman your hat is as good as a proposal,” Sully said.
“I think I’m about ten years too late on his proposal,” Bailey said, somewhat sadly.
“Let me tell you something about Cal. He’s tenacious. That’s what made him a good quarterback. That’s what makes him a good rancher. He also despises change. At some point he’s got to realize he has to let go of Isabel and accept there are some things that have to move along, despite how much he tries to hold on.”
“In the meantime, every day that goes by makes me look a little more foolish,” she said.
“No one who knows you could ever think you’re a fool,” Sully said.
“Thanks,” she said. “I should go back inside, check on things.”
“Want some help?” he asked.
“It won’t bother you to be in the kitchen doing women’s work while the men are out here?” she asked.
“Honey, I’ve worked calves before. Believe me when I tell you the kitchen is a far, far better place to be.”
An hour later, he was ready to change his mind. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a slave driver?”
“Mostly my little sisters,” Bailey replied unconcernedly. They had arranged tables outside, making one giant line, along with chairs and hay bales enough for everybody to have a seat. Taking Cal’s directive to “make herself at home” seriously, she snooped until she located tablecloths and place settings enough for everyone. Then she sent Sully up a ladder to hang string lights she found. There was only one oak tree beside the house, but it was massive enough to provide all the shade they’d need. Lastly, she found some clean Mason jars and cut flowers for bouquets.
The men limped over, dirty, exhausted, famished. But when they saw the long table decorated and loaded with food, they perked up. Soon it became a party atmosphere with laughing and talking and eating, lots and lots of eating.
When the food was finished, Jinx’s sons, Corrie and Jonah, brought out their guitars and began to play softly. The sun sank low, and the oppressive heat began to wane. Cal slid his arm behind Bailey’s chair and leaned close to talk to her.
“Are you happy?” he whispered.
“Exponentially so. You?”
“For the first time in a long, long time, yes I am. Thank you for supper tonight.”
“It was the least I could do while you all are working so hard.”
“It really wasn’t,” he said, his eyes sliding to the middle distance, probably to his past and memories.
“What did Isabel do during calving season?” she asked.
“In the early days, when we still actually liked each other, she used to come out and watch, talk, socialize. The last few years we were together she went away, had a girls weekend or went presumably by herself. In retrospect I’m not certain she was actually alone during those times.”
“I’m sorry, Cal. Really, really sorry for the way things turned out, for the pain your uncoupling has caused you. It’s unfair, and it stinks, and every bad thing.”
“The upside is I think the shock and denial of it all are starting to wear off. The downside is that the grief and pain are setting in.” He sighed and his fingers skimmed lightly along her back. “Sweet girl, I think this old dog is kind of a mess.”
“You don’t get to corner the market on mess, sir. We’re each a mess, in our own special way.”
“What’s your mess, Bailey? Because from where I sit, I only see the good.”
“I’m a workaholic control freak daredevil perfectionist who is too often out of touch with my emotions.”
“But what’s your mess? Because all that sounds pretty good to me,” he said.
She reached out and smoothed the flyaway hair at his temple. His hair was a bit of a mess, twisted and bent from a long, sweaty day beneath his Stetson. He leaned into her touch, smiling. “I bought a ticket for home.”
He froze. “When?”
“Friday, six days.”
He swallowed hard. “Why?”
“Because we can’t keep fooling ourselves with this, pretending we can go on like this with no consequences. Either you’re going to break and hate yourself or you’re not going to break and I’ll eventually resent you. We’re friends, we’re pals, in the kindest and purest sense of the words. I want to keep it like that, to go out on a good note while we’re both heart whole with no regrets.”
“He clasped her hand and held it between both of his. “I want to…I want, Bailey. I want so much.”
“I know you do, but not enough to do something about it,” she said.
He gave her hand a squeeze and let it go. “I understand. If this is what you feel is best, then I’ll support you.”
She smiled and nodded, but inwardly she was disappointed. She hadn’t meant the ticket as an ultimatum but there was a secret little part of her that hoped he would take it so.
“What time is your flight on Friday? I’ll make sure I’m available to drive you to the airport.”
“Sully has business in San Antonio that day. He’s offered to take me,” she said. She couldn’t do the airport goodbye with Cal; she just couldn’t. It would be hard enough to do it here, away from prying eyes.
“Oh, okay,” he said. They settled into awkward silence. Bailey stood.
“I should get this cleaned up.”
“I’ll help,” he said.
“Don’t be crazy. You’ve worked all day. Relax, please. I’ve got this.” She squeezed his shoulder briefly and began gathering dishes and silverware. Music and conversation buzzed around her, and she wasn’t sure if they helped to fill up her empty pieces or make her more aware of them. Either way, she was glad for something to do, for any task that kept her from thinking or feeling too much.