Chapter Fourteen
“ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT to do this? We wouldn’t make you forage for your breakfast, you know,” Laredo said the next morning.
Diana entered the chicken coop—she hoped she used the correct words—and looked around. “I know. But I’m in the mood for scrambled eggs before we go boating. And I enjoy being helpful.”
Helpful, not a people pleaser, she argued with Pat’s voice in her head. Besides, gathering eggs should take her mind off Pat still being missing, though Diana desperately hoped her friend had just fallen in love again and forgotten about the world around her. Okay, having dropped her phone from the boat could explain why she didn’t answer Diana’s calls. But couldn’t Pat find a new phone or borrow one by now?
Then there was that little—just a tiny one!—detail about nearly being run off the road yesterday. Not to mention how Laredo had sustained a shoulder injury from a capstone probably meant to break Diana’s skull. She’d brought danger to him, and that invited guilt’s whole family to move into her insides.
What secrets had Noah wanted hidden that could—hopefully!—lead to Pat? Where was her friend? Why wasn’t she contacting Diana? Who were the mysterious man and woman they’d asked about and why?
A nagging premonition hinted about the latter, and she didn’t like it one bit.
To stifle her worries, she studied a chicken, who in turn studied her—hopefully with curiosity, not animosity. It was better to be distracted by Laredo and chickens—though not to the same degree—than by her desperate thirst for alcohol.
The well-ventilated place smelled of hay and wood tinged with ammonia, which was all very—well, earthy would be the best way of putting it. That smell reminded her she had to watch where she stepped because, of course, birds didn’t separate their living quarters from their restrooms.
She also needed a distraction from thinking about Laredo, from the tender way he’d looked at her when he’d serenaded her yesterday. Instead, she glanced back at him.
“That’s sweet of you.” His muscular frame filled the small building as he closed the door, and his voice turned soft and caressing. Just that sent pleasant tingles over her skin.
So much for distracting herself from him.
He handed her a powder-blue bucket, and her fingers brushed against his.
The pleasant tingles intensified and spread inside. “Um, you were spectacular yesterday. You’re incredibly talented.” She’d better ignore the tingles, though, and concentrate on her task.
“Thank you, but you saved my skin yesterday. I couldn’t say a word. Until you did the brave thing and started singing.”
Heat rose inside her. “I wasn’t brave. I was shaking in my sneakers.” She eyed the chickens.
“Didn’t you say that’s exactly what courage was? Overcoming your fears? If not for you, I wouldn’t have overcome mine. You also have such a beautiful voice.”
Not used to being praised, she diverted the conversation. “Um, how exactly do I get the eggs if the chickens are sitting on them?” It wasn’t like she could politely ask them to stand up and move slightly aside.
He chuckled. Huh, he might be enjoying this. “You put your hand under the hen and take the egg.”
“Huh. I thought so, but I hoped there might be another way. Won’t the chickens, um, peck, if I try to steal their eggs?” Maybe she shouldn’t have used the word steal in front of these ladies.
“They might, but normally, they don’t.”
She didn’t exactly love the word normally in that sentence. Besides, maybe the chickens normally didn’t peck at him or his brothers because these birds were familiar with them? On the contrary, Diana was a new intruder.
As ridiculous as it felt, she attempted to introduce herself, even if chickens couldn’t understand human language. “Hello. I’m Diana. I’m not here to harm you. I’ll just get the eggs and be on my merry way.” Which wouldn’t be too helpful to the chickens. “I promise I’ll feed you before I leave.”
“And I’ll show you how to give them water,” Laredo added.
“And I’ll give you water,” Diana said to sweeten the deal, though she preferred tea or lemonade or orange juice. Or... No. Not going there. “I’m not here to get you and then make chicken soup.” Uh-oh. Maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned that possibility.
Behind her, Laredo shifted. Did he think she was ridiculous? When she’d been growing up, any time she’d been goofy or made mistakes, her parents sternly told her they’d raised her better than that. Free-spirited Pat had never been scared to make a fool out of herself.
Diana peeped over her shoulder.
He didn’t appear teasing but encouraging and supportive. “I could do it if you like.”
“No. It’s okay.”
It would be difficult for him to gather fragile eggs and balance the bucket with one hand, and she didn’t want him to hold the bucket in his right hand because of his shoulder. Okay, she could hold the bucket, but still... Besides, she’d already volunteered.
She might not be comfortable with chickens, but she was more comfortable in Laredo’s presence than anyone else’s. What an odd new feeling.
Okay, back to chickens and eggs, and not the debate of which came first. Watching the nearest chicken carefully, she extended her hand. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll be, um, gentle.”
The chicken cocked her head but didn’t bring her beak in Diana’s direction. She slid her hand under the chicken. The bird’s belly felt soft and warm and pleasant, but she suspected the bird’s beak would feel hard and sharp and not at all pleasant. She slipped her hand further along the warm feathered belly, then further along. No egg yet. Hadn’t she gone far enough already? The chicken didn’t look that large.
“I don’t think this one had an egg.” Diana was eager to shift back before the bird got aggressive. “Or maybe I can lift her and look and then put her back down again?” But then that would most likely include some pecking, and she preferred her arms unpecked, if there was such a word. There probably wasn’t.
He chuckled again, the sound echoing inside her. “Keep trying, please.”
Finally, her fingers touched something warm and round. “Yay! I’ve got it!” A few birds stirred, so she toned down her voice. “I got it.”
“You sure did. Do you want me to help you with the rest?” He grinned, nearly making her melt.
Her and a few thousand female fans, based on the number of likes and comments under that viral video. If he chose a music career, this could jump-start it, right? She didn’t know how all that worked, but she was happy for him. She really was. Then what was that nagging feeling?
“No. I’ve got it,” she said again. She stepped to the next chicken, and they eyed each other. This chicken better also be the non pecking variety.
Then Diana edged closer and repeated the procedure. This time, she got the egg faster. She didn’t squeal but rather whispered in order not to spook the birds, “I’ve got another one.”
She put high hopes on talking to Noah. Then her heart sank to the ground. Would she be disappointed again? She definitely shouldn’t put high hopes on the affection she seemed to glimpse in Laredo’s eyes. Shouldn’t let longing spread inside her. Or let her mind keep replaying last night’s amazing serenade.
Once done, she and Laredo carried the eggs inside the family ranch house and into the kitchen with its cow-themed décor, after removing her boots, of course. Laredo followed her.
Despite his difficulty operating with his left hand, he’d helped her cook before, but every time still surprised her. Adam never made any meals—after all, he’d had an important job, and she’d been thrilled if he’d as much as made it home in time for dinner. And if Diana had ever seen her father making something as simple as toast, she probably would’ve fainted.
“I’ll make breakfast.” His lips lifted. “We have plenty of time before the meeting with the boat captain.”
The coming meeting unnerved her. But then, it didn’t take much to unnerve her.
On the contrary, cooking calmed her. Maybe because it reminded her of the happy times spent in the kitchen with Grandma. For a moment, she could nearly smell the oatmeal cookies they’d baked.
“No, it’s okay. I’ll be glad to make breakfast.” She kept her voice low. “I’ll do my best to be quiet so as not to wake your mother.”
“Oh. No need to be quiet. Mom left this morning to babysit her grandchild.”
Or to give Laredo and Diana more privacy?
Laredo’s grin made her heart melt like the butter on the toast. But the same grin and velvety voice could melt the hearts of many other women, as evidenced by the video. Best not to think about it.
She washed her hands, spreading the liquid hand soap’s orange-scented aroma throughout the kitchen, then washed the eggs. Just like the hand soap infused the air with the scent of oranges, his mere presence infused her soul with the desire for love and happiness.
Yes, and wine had infused her cells with an addiction for more alcohol. Her elevated mood dipped. She’d never had a hangover, so her body never learned drinking was bad. It didn’t want to listen to her mind.
Just like her heart didn’t want to listen to her mind as it screamed falling for Laredo would crush her.
“I’d love to help with breakfast.” He washed his hands, as well, adding the scent of oranges to that clean aftershave of his.
Her heart shifted. Despite her words, she didn’t want him to leave.
“Your company’s a great help already.” Warmth rose inside her, probably coloring her cheeks as bright as Saylor’s Christmas sweater yesterday. Diana did her best to hide her embarrassment by ducking to the fridge, technically to get milk, but in reality, to hide behind its door and conceal her blush. A gust of cold air met her heated face. Could it get more embarrassing? “I mean, I wouldn’t want you to harm your shoulder.”
“Thank you. But thanks to you, my shoulder is better every day. And... I love being around you.” He crowded in by the refrigerator. “Let me bring the milk and bacon.”
So much for hiding her blush. She hugged the milk carton as if her life depended on it, as if it were a dear friend—kind of like she’d hugged a wine bottle before. “I’ve got the milk.”
He chuckled. “I’ll get the bacon, then. Literally.”
She couldn’t help echoing that chuckle. “I like a man who brings the bacon. I mean... Oh, never mind.” Her face flushed even more. Here was the answer to her question—yes, she could easily make it more embarrassing.
Joy tinted with guilt bubbled inside her as she beat the eggs with a whisk. She preferred to scramble them the old-fashioned way. Maybe she was old-fashioned. “I never realized how much I enjoy cooking until I did it here. You know, without the rush, without the fear of criticism.” Then she dared to say, “Well, and the wonderful company helps.”
He maneuvered a large pan onto the stove and turned it on. “I’ve never been told I could inspire culinary masterpieces, but I’ll consider it a great compliment. Though I don’t know who’d criticize your cooking because you’re a fantastic cook.”
Feeling a smile blossom on her face, she added milk to the bowl. “Really?”
“Really.” He brought the oil, and his gaze lingered on her.
She beamed, sponging up the praise. “I learned it all myself. Watching videos. Reading recipes. Well, and Grandma taught me how to make my first pancakes, but they were from a box.”
“It still counts. All the more impressive that you learned it by yourself.” He placed bacon in the skillet, and soon a mouthwatering aroma spread through the kitchen.
But she was much hungrier for his kiss than for food. Heat roiled her, and not because of the stove.
Distract yourself!
“Um, would you like onions and green peppers with your scrambled eggs?” She reached for the vegetables in the refrigerator’s bottom drawer before receiving the answer. Once again, the cold air helped with her heated-up face. Just thinking about kissing him turned her temperature up too many notches.
“That sounds awesome. Thank you so much.” His velvety voice didn’t just deliver words. It had the amazing ability to caress her very soul. His songs from yesterday lingered in her heart.
He’d just given her a humble compliment and for something simple many people did every day, but as starved as she was for praise, she lapped it up like a thirsty puppy lapping up water.
“Hmm, maybe I should get a puppy. I always wanted a dog, but my parents wouldn’t allow it. Then I was too busy. Then Adam said he was allergic to dog saliva.” Never mind how after his death his mother let it slip that he hadn’t been allergic at all.
“My brothers have dogs, and they bring so much joy into our lives. It’s your life and your path. Puppies are a lot of work, but if you want one, why not get one? I... I want you to have lots of joy in your life.”
“Th–thanks.” She cut a green pepper, then peeled, and cut the onion, and that’s why tears prickled her eyes. It had to be.
For years, Grandma had been the only person who’d praised and supported her. After Grandma’s death, Diana seemed to be on her own, but her path had somehow always revolved around other people. Laredo was right. It was way past time to choose her own path. Her thoughts drifted off as her knife diced swiftly.
That day, she’d had to move a chair to reach the counter, then the stove to make pancakes. Grandma and little Diana hadn’t used up all the batter. Hadn’t had a chance to. Grandpa had come home—or rather, half crawled home. His speech was slurred, and he’d been belligerent about something she couldn’t understand.
Of course, Grandma had to attend to her husband then. Diana had burned the next pancake on her own but thankfully not the house. Grandma had returned to save the kitchen and the house. But she hadn’t laughed anymore, and a few tears had slipped into a pancake batter.
“Grandma loved cooking. I–I so wanted to be like her. But she died shortly after Grandpa when I was nine. He...” A lump formed in her throat as she poured oil into the cast-iron skillet to sauté onions and peppers. “He was an alcoholic.” And so am I. But she didn’t add that part. Couldn’t yet. “He died from liver cirrhosis.”
Compassion filled his eyes. He lowered the heat under the bacon skillet and stepped close to her. His large, warm hand landed on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
She craved to hide her face on his broad chest and believe things could get better. But she’d hidden way too often in a bottle before. The stark truth was she’d never do to him what her grandfather had done to Grandma.
Yet Diana couldn’t resist it when Laredo wrapped her in a tight hug, though she did her best to make sure it wasn’t with his right arm. She thought she could hear his heart beating, or was that hers attuning to his? A pleasant, soothing wave of his embrace made it through the cement wall of her turmoil, and she leaned into him, treasuring these precious moments. Wishing they could last forever. Knowing she couldn’t allow them to last even a few minutes.