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“If it was just me...” Lucy poked at a carrot in her soup. “You know I have to think of my mom.”
“I know you need to start thinking straight. Now eat up. You need something warm in you.”
That was one order Lucy could obey. She ate fast and borrowed Charlie’s rain gear to get back to her room. For the rest of the night, she read in bed until she fell asleep.
***
She woke and rose early the next morning and headed to the kitchen. Dawn warmed the eastern sky. The mud had mostly dried. Inside the kitchen, she hung up Charlie’s rain gear and flicked on the light. Charlie hadn’t come down yet, so Lucy got the coffee brewing.
It had just begun to perk when Charlie came in, yawning and pulling up the strap of her overalls. “What’re you doing up so early?”
Lucy shrugged and moved to cut some bread slices for toast. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“That wouldn’t be because of some dark-haired cowboy would it?” Charlie offered up a wicked grin.
Lucy rolled her eyes. “As if. You know, there’s something off about him.”
Charlie began pulling out eggs and bacon for breakfast. “Off? Lordy, girl, he’s not a piece of fruit that can spoil. Now what’s it to be—an omelet or scramble today? And you want pancakes with that?”
“Omelet. And you know what I mean. He can afford that horse trailer and to rent your farm for a season—but he wears beaten-up jeans and a hat that’s seen better days. He’s a college guy, but he doesn’t have his own spread? And last night—you said he had business calls coming in. It just doesn’t add up.”
Charlie smiled. “So you are thinking about him. Good. If I was twenty years younger and ten pounds leaner, I’d be doing more than thinking.”
Lucy made a face. “I’m thinking about coffee—and bacon.”
Coming over to her, Charlie slid an arm around Lucy’s waist. “Honey, you want to be doing more than thinking. Life passes far too quick. You put off and you put off and you put off—and suddenly all the things you wanted to do, well, it’s just too late. Sometimes you just have to jump at a chance when it comes. And let things work themselves out.”
She gave Charlie a hug and moved to put the sliced bread into the toaster. “That sounds like a path to heartache.”
Charlie gave a laugh. “Better a broken heart than an unused one. Now how about getting that bacon sizzling.”
They settled into a familiar groove of cooking up breakfast. Charlie turned on the radio for the news and weather, and went on to sing along with Carrie Underwood.
Lucy fried up the bacon and set it aside to drain. The kitchen smelled of food and coffee, and if she could only have days like this without the worry of money hanging over her head, Lucy knew she’d be happy. Turning, she saw Zach standing in the doorway. He leaned his shoulders against the door frame and had his ankles crossed as if he’d been there for some time.
Charlie kept on singing, and when she turned and saw Zach she waved a spatula at him. “Come on in and join the fun. Coffee’s hot.”
Zach turned his smile—warm and inviting—on Lucy. Her heart gave a little jump. She looked away and pushed a hand into her hair. She put it up into a haphazard bun, had dragged on a large, long sleeve T-shirt and a pair of baggy jeans. She had to look a mess.
Pushing off from the doorframe, he came over and took the coffee cup from her hands. “I’ll be glad to help, but looks like you’ve got things handled.”
“Oh, we can always use another hand. Lucy, set him to buttering the toast.” Charlie kept on singing. She swung her hips with the music they made. Lucy held out the butter dish and a knife to Zach. Instead of taking them from her hands, he took her hands, pulled her into a two-step dance and a little spin.
He slipped his hand down to her waist, spun her again and danced her over to the fridge. He stared down at her, his eyes dark and so very blue. She saw a hint of passion flare hot in his eyes. He stopped dancing with her but he didn’t pull his hands away. She held the butter dish and knife in front of her, but she wanted to toss them away and grab hold of him.
“Food’s ready,” Charlie sang out.
Zach looked away, and Lucy slipped from his hold. She pulled out the toast and said, “I’ll butter the bread.” She focused on that and kept herself busy, refilling coffee cups, getting the cream from the fridge, cleaning up plates after she’d bolted down two bites of Charlie’s omelet. Zach, thankfully, didn’t mention yesterday and she didn’t bring it up, either.
Finishing up the breakfast dishes, Lucy turned to Zach. “Ready to start when you are, boss.”
He frowned at the word, but stood up and grabbed his Stetson. “Let's get the stalls finished up in the barn. I’d like to move the horses down there. And take a look at the irrigation pipe.”
Wiping her hands on a dish towel, Charlie asked, “Will you pick me some fruit from the trees down near the river. Peaches are almost done, but the sweetest ones come last.”
Nodding, Lucy gave a wave and followed Zach out of the house.
Sunny danced up to them, spotted a rabbit and took off.
