Chapter Four
It had been years since the last time Aiden had fixed a broken pipe.
It was exhilarating to see the repair hold when he turned the faucet on.
Not as great as when he created something beautiful out of a raw piece of wood, but it was darn close.
Now, taking a quick peek under the sink, the sheetrock repair was looking good.
The mud was almost completely dry. As much as he was not looking forward to crawling under there again, it still needed paint.
Stepping aside as Alice came to the sink with a bag of potatoes, Aiden faced the inevitable. “The wall patch is almost dry. I can paint tomorrow.”
“Nonsense,” she waved him off. “Do you know how to peel potatoes?”
“Uh.” The question caught him off guard. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She pointed to a drawer to his left. “Grab a peeler.”
He pulled a peeler from the designated drawer and stood at Alice’s side. “I can paint the patch tomorrow.”
Kade’s mom shook her head. “The only person who ever looks under there is me, and to be honest, I don’t look that closely. It’s a wall under a cabinet. Who cares if it’s painted.” Holding a peeler in one hand and potato in the other, she tipped her head and smiled at him.
“And my bad hip has nothing to do with it?”
Her smile grew wider as she turned away and returned to peeling the stack of potatoes on the counter. “I didn’t say that.”
He couldn’t help laughing. “Yes, ma’am. If you’re sure?”
Just then, Colleen returned from the bathroom. “Sure about what?”
“Not painting,” Alice answered. “Do you peel potatoes?”
Colleen blinked before nodding and Aiden bit back a smile. Clearly, she was as surprised by the question as he had been, though she hid it better than he probably had.
“Good.” Alice handed her the peeler and moved away from the sink. “Oh, and let your parents know you’re joining us for dinner.” She paused and grinned. “That is unless you have a hot date.”
He was pretty sure her cheeks flushed three different shades of red.
“No, ma’am. No date.” Under her breath Colleen muttered, hot or otherwise. When Alice disappeared into the pantry, Colleen glanced in his direction. “How’s the hip holding up?”
Telling her that his bones felt as though they’d been branded with a hot iron probably wouldn’t be the right thing to say. “Not bad.”
Her hands stopped mid strike and she turned again to stare at him.
“All right. It is stinging a bit, but honestly, not as much as I thought it would.”
“Really?” She was still looking at him, her gaze sincere.
“Yeah. I will most likely, however, hurt like hell tomorrow morning.”
Alice appeared from the pantry, her arms laden with jars of canned vegetables, she set them on the table then turned and walked to the fridge. “One of you start slicing the potatoes. I don’t want them too thick or too thin.”
Just then, Brady and Clint came in the back door. Alice’s husband paused to scrape his footwear on the boot cleaner, Brady, the family’s German Shepherd, had already become Alice’s shadow.
“Do you cook often?” He didn’t know where that question came from.
“I used to cook with Mom all the time when I lived at home. Then there was college food, then working and studying for my masters, I reverted to lots of frozen dinners.”
He nodded. “My mother tries, but she’s missing the Italian gene that would make her meals taste like my grandmother made them.”
“So your grandmother is a good cook?”
“Is the Pope Catholic?”
A brief snort escaped from her before she bit her lips to hold it in. “Understood.”
Alice reappeared, this time with an armful of cheeses balanced on a container of heavy cream. “If you haven’t guessed, we’ll be having scalloped potatoes au gratin with the roast I have in the oven.”
“Roast?” He shouldn’t have been surprised. In the Bronx a roast was saved for Sunday supper after church. When people live on a cattle ranch, why not a roast on a Friday night?
“Actually, three. I’m expecting a crowd for dinner and then there will be leftovers for sandwiches…” she smiled, “or noshing.”
“Mrs. Sweet,” Aiden beamed back at her, “you’ve been holding out on me. You have a little New York in you.”
Tipping her head, grinning widely and offering up a lazy shrug, she looked at him pointedly. “And that, young man, is for me to know and you to find out.”
That was all he needed to burst out in a loud cackle. “Mrs. S, you are something else.”
“And now that you’re done with the potatoes,” Alice Sweet waved in the direction of the two bowls of sliced potatoes, “I’ve got to stick a few things in the oven and we don’t need three people for that. Why don’t you two mosey down to the barn…”
Aiden had to reel in his thoughts not to burst out laughing at the thought of moseying anywhere.
“Check out the horses,” Alice continued. “But take it slow. The path is pretty level but that hip has to be growling at you by now.”
There was no arguing, his hip was protesting, loudly.
“A leisurely walk is not a bad idea. It will keep you from stiffening up.”
“Then I guess a leisurely walk it is.” Colleen set a dishrag on the countertop and turned around. “Mind if I grab a few apples or carrots?”
“We have apples in a barrel in the pantry for the horses.” Alice tipped her chin in the direction of the pantry.
“Perfect.” Colleen grinned at the family matriarch and Aiden wondered if it would be so awful if he confessed all he really wanted was a very long hot shower and an even longer stay on his nice comfy bed.
Colleen appeared from inside the pantry with a cloth sack hanging from her elbow, weighed down by a goodly number of apples.
“Just how many horses are we visiting?”
As Alice had promised, the path from the back door to the barn was flat and, for the most part, level.
Despite that, the cloth sack of apples bumped against Colleen’s hip with every step—every slow step.
Based on the records she’d received of his injury and rehab stint, she didn’t want Aiden to push too hard.
“You’ve got enough apples in that bag for a cavalry.” Aiden seemed to be focusing on every step, not looking at her when he spoke. Instead, he was carefully watching the ground ahead of him.
“That’s because the other horses could become jealous if they see Boots eating treats.”
She couldn’t quite see his face, but the tight set of his jaw mixed with a lingering silence suggested he was taking her comment seriously. “Horses really get jealous, or is this some country form of hazing the city boy?”
“Do I look like someone who would hang you out to dry?”
This time he did glance in her direction without skipping a beat. “Yes.”
Instead of being insulted, she chuckled. “Fair enough. Yes, really. Horses have very strong feelings about fairness.”
His head bobbed slightly, but he didn’t say anything else.
The moment they entered the barn, the scent of hay and leather wrapped around her, followed by the low murmur of someone talking to an animal and the shift of a horse moving in its stall.
Halfway down the corridor, leaning against the stall, sleeves rolled, talking quietly to one of the horses like he fully expected the massive animal to answer him back, Garret Sweet shifted his attention to her and Aiden.
“Hey, Colleen.” Giving the horse a quick scratch along his neck, Garret stepped away from the stall. “Heard you were back.”
“Hard to sneak up on Honeysuckle.” She moved closer to the horse.
“Let’s agree it’s hard to sneak up on Iris Hathaway. There is most definitely nothing wrong with the Honeysuckle grapevine.”
She smiled at him. “Some things never change.” Still patting the horse, she looked at Garret. “Mom tells me that the team is looking really good this year.”
Garret’s eyes lit up. “If this morning’s practice was any indication, I’d say we’ve got another shot at State.”
Aiden glanced between them. “Which sport?”
The way Garret stared at him, as if he’d just asked what color is the sky, Colleen had to practically eat her lips to keep from laughing. “Football,” Garret finally replied.
“This is Texas. Friday night lights and all.” Colleen shifted the sack of apples onto the stall rail and faced Garret. “How’s the line holding?”
“Better than last year.”
“Better how?” she pressed.
Garret crossed his arms, a contented grin taking over his face. “Picked up two seniors with size. One of them finally figured out how to use it.”
“That the kid who kept collapsing the pocket last season?” Colleen wanted to make her way to Boot’s stall, but she loved getting inside info on the school team from someone who knew.
“That’s the one.”
She nodded. “Good. Because if your quarterback doesn’t get more than two seconds, it doesn’t matter how good your receivers are.”
“Sounds like you’re a fan.” Aiden watched her intently.
“Like I said, this is Texas. Everyone loves football.” She turned back to Garret. “What about your secondary? You were getting burned on deep routes.”
Garret winced. “Don’t remind me.”
“So?”
“So,” he sighed, “we’ve got a sophomore with speed and decent instincts. Still learning.”
“Speed’s good.” She bobbed her head. “Instincts will come if he doesn’t overthink it.”
“That’s what I keep telling him.” Garret stepped further into the main corridor. “I have a few more things to take care of before washing up for supper. It’s nice to have you back.”
“Thanks. It’s nice to be back.” Grabbing the bag from where she’d hung it on the stall, she spun to face Aiden. “Let’s go find Boots.”
Aiden fell into step beside her. “You really know your football.”
“I do.” She nodded.
“I mean really know football. More than just recognizing when it’s fourth down or that a touchdown is six points before the kick for the extra point.
My mother learned to follow the game so that she could have more things in common with Dad.
She yells at the appropriate moments—an interception, a fumble, a first down—but I’m not sure my dad even understands the nuances of the game that you and Garret just discussed. ”
She shrugged, stopping at Boots’ stall. “Hate to keep repeating myself, but this is Texas, the state that nearly revolted when they adopted the No Pass No Play rule. Didn’t hurt any that I went to Texas A&M. Very strong football tradition.
“Johnny Football,” Aiden murmured.
Mention of the star quarterback who left school for the pros and more or less flaked out afterward brought a smile to her face.
Not that the kid had allowed ego to ruin a promising career, but that Aiden knew enough about A&M to know of Johnny Football.
“Lots more to Aggie football than individual players.”
“Yeah,” he agreed.
“Well, hello there,” Colleen cooed. Boots swung her attention immediately, ears forward, nose already reaching. “She’s been aware of us since we walked in.”
The horse stepped forward, nudging the stall door.
Aiden moved closer, resting his forearm along the top rail. “This her?”
“Sure is.” Colleen reached into the sack and holding her palm flat, offered the horse an apple treat.
When she was done with her snack, Boots stretched her nose toward Aiden. He held still, letting the horse come to him, then lifted his hand slow and steady.
Boots breathed warm against his palm, then leaned in.
Aiden’s hand moved, careful at first, then more sure as he stroked along the side of the horse’s face. Something in his expression shifted. Not big. But noticeable. “She’s…steady.”
“She is.”
Aiden ran his hand once more along Boots’ neck, slower this time. “You don’t get a lot of that.”
“No,” Colleen said softly. “You don’t. Want to give her a treat?”
He nodded.
Colleen produced another apple from the bag and held it out to him.
Holding out his hand, flat as Colleen had done, Aiden watched as Boots found the apple with delicate efficiency.
The soft lips moved against his palm and something crossed his face—an unguarded quality she had yet to see in him.
He watched the mare’s face while she ate.
The dark eye regarding him with that patient, unhurried intelligence that Boots had always brought to her assessment of new people. “She’s checking me out.”
“Yep. Still making up her mind.”
“Does she do this with everyone?”
“She does. Or at least she used to.”
Boots, whose nose had drifted from Aiden’s now empty palm, rested against his chest, her eyes going half-closed with the air of an animal that had made a decision and was entirely at peace with it.
He went still. Not the careful stillness of someone managing an uncertain situation, but something quieter than that. His hand came up. Found the side of her neck. “You’re right.” A smile stretched wide. “She’s very sweet.”