Page 25 of The Texas Cowboy's Rescue

“Okay, Chef Brooke, you can’t stand there and stare at the oven. It doesn’t make it bake faster. So now, take this towel, and I’ll wash and you can dry the items we used. Always remember, a good chef cleans as she goes... it makes the job a lot easier, and your kitchen won’t look like a total disaster if you have guests.”

“I’ll remember, Mama. Can I cook breakfast too? I want to learn how to make pancakes.”

“Well, to use a swimming metaphor... you learn to paddle before you swim. We’ll work our way up to your pancakes.”

“With smiley faces?”

Kenzie dropped a swift kiss on top of her child’s head as she was intent on drying the plastic bowl on the cabinet. Moments like these were to be treasured and stored for the day when her little girl would have her own kitchen.

“Mama, are you crying? Did I dry something wrong?”

Kenzie shook her head and batted away the moisture that somehow had gathered in the corners of her eyes. “I think it’s my allergies today. The sunflowers are beginning to bloom in that field down the road we pass by in the car. Probably some of that is floating our way.”

Brooke nodded and went back to her concentration. But it was short-lived. At the sound of the doorbell, the towel and stool were left behind in her flying wake. Brooke was but a blur disappearing down the hall. Very soon after, the sound of muffled voices met Kenzie’s ears as she dried the last dish and was about to put it away.

“Come see, Mr. Deke,” Brooke was saying, leading the way for their guests into the kitchen. Ranger came next and then Deke, his hands full of pizza boxes and a grocery sack. Kenzie stepped forward, hands outstretched.

“Give our guests time to unload his arms, Brooke. Let me help.” She took the bag as he moved to set the two squares on the counter. His smile landed on her and she felt it all the way to her toes and back. Surely she wasn’t blushing? She was too old for such things. It must be the heat of the kitchen’s oven. That was her story and she grabbed on to it.

“Are you feeding an army I don’t know about?”

“I might have gotten carried away,” he said. “I’m not used to buying for more than one human in my house. I got the pizzas that Miss Brooke said were your favorites... pepperoni for her, Hawaiian with double cheese for you, and my meat and veggie overload.” He laughed. “Of course, I thought a salad would also be called for... to keep things healthy.”

“Are the cupcakes ready to come out of the oven, Mama?” Brooke was trying to stand on tiptoe and peer through the wall oven’s glass.

“Let’s check,” Kenzie responded, reaching for an oven mitt. The smell permeated the kitchen, and the cupcakes were indeed ready. “Okay, let me put them on the cooling rack. Then we’ll get the icing ready.”

“And don’t forget...”

“The sprinkles,” both Deke and Brooke spoke at the same time, and that brought forth a high five to each other from the pair.

“Oh, dear.” Kenzie shook her head. “I don’t know if I can be in the same kitchen with two sprinkle fiends.”

“And that brings up another point,” Deke said, and he stepped forward with hand outstretched. Without pause, Kenzie supplied her hand in his. The contact was quite a zing, and he gave a wink. “Well, I was thinking more along the lines of you handing me over that apron you are wearing... but the hand is a far better choice.”

Now the color rose in her cheeks for certain. She withdrew her hand and reached for the apron strings at her back. “Apron?” She realized she wasn’t making the impression she wanted, but his presence was more unnerving than before. Or she was just aware of so much more about the tall man standing in her kitchen that seemed to have shrunk in size.

“Brooke informed me at the front door that she is an assistant chef now, so she and I shall take care of the preparation of this evening’s meal if you don’t mind allowing me to run amok in your kitchen?”

“That’s right, Mama. Mr. Deke and I will handle it all. You go and watch TV.”

“I might live to regret this, but no one has to ask me twice to go watch TV and let someone else handle the meal... this once.” She handed over the apron. And then she left the pair but paused at the doorway. “I’m leaving Ranger in charge over you both.”

“That’s good... he is a veteran at keeping the things that might get dropped on the floor all tidied up... great in the kitchen,” Deke responded with an innocent grin.

“Oh dear...” Kenzie said, turning and heading toward the living room. She picked up the book she had tried to finish a few times, but it was still a distraction of giggles, pots and pans clanging, mixer whirring, more giggles and laughter, and that all made her sigh... and smile too. Brooke sounded carefree and happy. And that was how she had envisioned it to be over those years of growing up and even during the fateful marriage. A home with laughter and people happy and secure and... a family.

Had she been wrong to wall off the pair of them? She and Brooke were not going to need anyone else. That was the plan. But had she miscalculated? Had Brooke needed that father figure in her life? Was she, the single mom, not enough? Her daughter seemed happy enough, or maybe she had just seen it through rose-colored glasses? Things had been placed in a different perspective since the arrival of Deacon Hayes in their lives. She hadn’t been prepared for him. Other males had suffered the chill of her rebuffs over the years. But why was he different?

He was everything she should have slammed the door against. But more and more she realized she had misjudged in lumping him in with the other males... with labeling him as just another “flyboy,” ready to swoop in and break hearts and then disappear into the sky without a care in search of other hearts to conquer. Deke had surprised her. And that wall seemed to be losing its height with each passing day. Was it wise? That was the remaining question. And she couldn’t find the answer she needed... not yet.

*

Deke stepped back,arms folded, and Brooke took up much the same pose beside him. A pronouncement was at hand. On the cabinet, on a silver tray, were a dozen cupcakes. White cake insides, white fluffy frosting on top, and lots of sprinkles on top of all of it.

“I’m thinking these may be the best cupcakes I have ever seen,” Deke said. “They are almost too pretty to eat. Maybe we shouldn’t.”

A slow moan escaped from Brooke beside him. “Really? But I bet they taste really, really good too. It would be wasteful not to eat them. My mama says that we shouldn’t waste food because we are lucky to have it and others might not. So we should eat them.”

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