Chapter Nine
“Stop right there, cowboy.” Kelley aimed the vintage stainless-steel sifter at Asher and watched him pause in the archway from the mudroom to the kitchen inside the Blackwell ranch house.
She arched an eyebrow at him. “I won’t have you spreading sawdust all over my desserts. ” Or wreaking havoc on her pulse.
Too late for that. Kelley hadn’t seen Asher since he had dropped her at the diner yesterday afternoon when they left Herman’s farm.
It was a mere twenty-four hours later, and her pulse was doing double-time as if he had been away for much longer.
And she missed him every minute. Kelley gathered her grit and shut the door on her sappy sentimental side.
Asher raised his hands, palms out. “My hands are clean.”
“But not the rest of you,” Kelley countered.
Asher lifted his arms away from his sides and glanced down as if only just noticing he was covered in sawdust from head to boots. His words were light and playful. “Can we just backtrack to the good stuff for a second?”
The good stuff was his one-sided grin tipping into his cheek. Yet, Kelley refused to get sidetracked by a neatly trimmed, close-shaved beard speckled with sawdust and a pair of mischievous blue eyes. Tonight was about her catering work, not her cowboy.
Asher drawled, “What is on the dessert menu for this evening?”
“Black Forest brownies.” Kelley turned the hand-crank on the sifter and sprinkled the last of the powdered sugar over her tray of brownie bites. “It’s my grandpa’s recipe. Although I have not made them in quite some time.”
“Why not?” He slipped off his boots and left them in the mudroom.
“My ex-husband wanted more sophisticated desserts on our menu at the restaurant,” Kelley explained and moved the brownie tray to the back counter.
“So, you don’t think everyone around here has a sophisticated palate, then?” Asher asked.
“It’s not that.” Kelley twisted around and watched the amusement flash across his handsome face.
He padded in socked feet softly forward.
She rounded the island to block him. “I was serious about the no-sawdust-in-my-kitchen rule.” And about not getting sidetracked.
“I know.” His grin expanded. “It’s just you’ve got powdered sugar. Here.” He reached up and touched his finger lightly against her cheek. “It’s making it hard to concentrate.”
She knew the feeling. She worked on keeping her breath and words even. “How is the chicken coop coming along?”
“It’s going well, considering we got the plans yesterday.
Big E and I might only need to make one more trip to the hardware store for more supplies.
” He shifted, then brushed his finger over her other cheek.
“Having any issues with the old kitchen appliances in here? I know they aren’t what you are used to cooking on. ”
She was having issues keeping her pulse in check and her thoughts from straying. It would be simple enough to slip her arms up and around his neck. Then if she leaned forward ever so slightly, they would be less than a whisper apart. Perfect for a… Suddenly, anticipation charged the silence.
Kelley raised her focus from Asher’s mouth to his warm yet all too alert gaze and said through her sigh, “Sorry. What was the question?”
“The appliances.” He trailed his fingers back toward her ear. “No problems, right?”
“Nothing I can’t manage.” But kissing her cowboy could be more than she could manage.
Still, she was tempted.
Still, she didn’t back away.
Still, she willed him to close the distance.
She would be quick. Just a touch of her lips to his. A brief brush. Too swift to leave an impression. Nothing she could not forget.
But his kiss might make her forget. Forget this was not a first kiss, but a last one. The only one they could share. He had found his place in the city. He belonged there. The city and Kelley were not a fit. Yet, being in her cowboy’s arms, well, that suited her. Quite well.
So it was one kiss. One private moment to steal. She wanted it more, not less now. What about you, cowboy?
The old-fashioned timer buzzed on the oven somewhere behind her.
Kelley startled and stepped back. “That would be the roast for the hot beef sandwiches tonight.”
He lowered his arm and watched her.
Rattled, Kelley blurted, “It’s finished.” So was the moment to discover if they were of like minds when it came to a possible mutual attraction. Disappointing, that. Kelley spun around and beelined for the oven, not for her cowboy’s arms.
After grabbing two dish towels, she pulled the oval roasting pan out, set it on the counter, then said, “This is another family recipe from my grandpa. I was missing…” She turned.
The kitchen was empty. Her cowboy was gone.
Exhaling, she finished saying quietly, “Him. I was missing him.” And now it seems you, too, cowboy.
Kelley smoothed her palms over her apron, brushing powdered sugar on the floor to be cleaned up later. Then she retied her apron and got herself sorted. She had a dinner service to complete, not a cowboy to make memories with.
Kelley managed to get through the dinner service without being distracted by Asher.
Now she was back in the outdated kitchen prepping the overnight oats for breakfast the next morning while Frannie, Owen—the stable’s hot-walker turned all-around helper—and Asher finished washing and drying the last of the dirty dishes.
Frannie and Owen had been inseparable through dinner.
It seemed her little sister had found a willing someone she could pass on her equestrian knowledge to.
While Owen, for his part, was proving to be a skilled sous-chef for Kelley and she very much appreciated the second set of hands as she could not be on site for every meal.
Currently, Frannie and Asher were immersed in a discussion about different types of tack and the best stirrups, bridles and saddles for every different equestrian discipline.
Kelley poured almond milk into the last Mason jar filled with rolled oats, vanilla and Greek yogurt.
Satisfied at the consistency, she handed the glass jar to Owen.
Owen twisted the cap onto the Mason jar, set it in the refrigerator with the other dozen they’d already prepared and said, “I think they’ve officially discussed more than twenty different types of saddles alone. Not to mention the dozens of saddle pads and shapes.”
“I’m afraid I cannot offer any clarity on tack.” Kelley chuckled and dumped a bag of unshelled pistachios into a bowl. “I haven’t ridden in years.” Not since she tumbled off her horse in the parade.
Asher paused mid-sentence and watched Kelley too closely.
But that was old news and not worth discussing now.
Besides, food was her focus these days. Kelley quickly opened the cabinet and pulled out a cookie sheet then grinned.
“However, I can tell you that once these nuts are toasted and crushed, they will bring the most satisfying crunch to the overnight oats in the morning.”
“Well, big sister, your horse-riding hiatus is finally coming to an end,” Frannie announced and swiped a pistachio from the bowl. She opened the shell and popped the nut into her mouth, then grinned. “Laura-Beth and I want to re-create our Heart of a Horse float for the parade this year.”
Not that one. Did no one but Kelley remember what happened that year? Kelley cracked shells off pistachios in swift succession, dropping nuts onto the stainless-steel cookie sheet one after another. All the while, she worked to keep her expression relaxed, not strained.
“Our heart float represented us the most,” Frannie said, seemingly unbothered by Kelley’s silence. “Our tagline was Three Sisters. One Bond. We each represented the three traits of a champion horse. Spirit, speed and strength.”
Yet, Kelley did not have the strength to keep herself in the saddle when her horse spooked and tossed her to the ground.
She lost her nerve to try again. And then her parents divorced not soon after and Kelley had retreated to the kitchen.
It was there with her grandpa that Kelley discovered her passion for cooking, which only gave her another solid reason not to get back in the saddle.
She hedged, “I think we should discuss this when I get home later.”
“You can’t back out, Kels.” Frannie tossed another pistachio into her mouth and crunched down. “You promised to participate in front of the whole town. I was there. So was Asher.”
Kelley glanced at Asher.
Asher stirred the large round ice cube in his bourbon and considered her. His gaze was thoughtful, his expression contained. Yet, his shoulders looked sturdy enough to back her up. His arms steady enough to hold her until she got over her unease at riding again.
Surely, in Asher’s embrace, she could not be weak. Still, she was stronger now on her own. How could she not be? A cowboy rescue was not what she needed. But Asher, well, she could fall… No. There were too many reasons not to fall for him.
The fact remained she had given her word to be in the parade and would not go back on it now. Strength would not sway Frannie or Laura-Beth. That meant Kelley just needed to outsmart her sisters. Same as she would her heart. You’re off the hook, cowboy. Kelley said, “Let’s just talk later at home.”
“Fine.” Frannie kissed Kelley’s cheek then said, “Now, I’m taking Owen to Whistle Bend Bluff. Can you believe he hasn’t seen the view from the bluff yet?”
“Some people like to stargaze, Frannie, rather than go to an overlook with a view of the racetrack,” Kelley teased.
“You can’t fool me, big sister. I know your secret,” Frannie said playfully.
That her heart was fickle and she feared already falling for a city cowboy? Kelley held her breath.
“I know full well that Whistle Bend Bluff is one of your favorite spots in town.” Frannie laughed and pulled Owen toward the back door then called out, “Don’t think you can fool me.”
The back door slammed shut.
Kelley only really needed to fool her heart. The one that was beating faster given that she was alone with her cowboy. At last.