Page 27 of Wounded Cowboy
Spring’s gaze shifted to the darkening skies to the south. It was a visible reminder that time was running out to deal with the storm’s other damage.
If not for that, he’d be heading home right now to set Kelsey straight on her priorities for April and Abby.
He resolved to have a serious talk with Kelsey tonight. His plans for his girls had been made for a reason, and Kelsey needed to understand that.
Chapter 7
Spaghetti Subversion
When Spring came home from work that evening, Kelsey was in the middle of showing April and Abby how to dice an onion.
Ground bison was browning with olive oil in a wide cast-iron skillet, filling the kitchen with a savory smell. A large pot filled with water for pasta was heating on the stove’s back burner.
The girls had vetoed Spring’s dinner plan, but they’d been excited to learn how to make spaghetti sauce from scratch. So Kelsey made an executive decision to swap out the steelhead fillets for her famous Thirty-Minute Spaghetti Bolognese.
She told herself that Spring would probably be happy to see her using fresh tomatoes, garlic, basil, and oregano harvested from his vegetable garden. The big bunches of herbs sat next on the counter next to the salt, pepper, and balsamic vinegar, waiting their turn with the knife and pan.
After his snippy phone call at lunchtime, she and April had gone out to the garden to weed and harvest a few things before the rain started.
Abby begged to be allowed to stay inside the house. Kelsey didn’t argue with her. No use traumatizing the little girl needlessly. Abby sat at the dining table, where Kelsey could see her through the sliding glass door, happily working on a space exploration coloring book.
The lesson on pollinators had been swapped out for one on wasps and their usefulness in getting rid of garden pests like caterpillars and aphids. Thankfully, the yellowjackets had left Kelsey and April alone.
Now, heavy rain spattered against the windows. Thunder boomed every minute or two, followed quickly by flashes of lightning.
Kelsey turned to greet Spring and saw that his auburn hair was wet and slicked to his head. Dark patches of moisture stained his t-shirt and jeans.
Instead of a smile or, at the very least, some semblance of gratitude at finding dinner in the works, his frosty blue eyes surveyed the piles of produce on the counter and the sizzling skillet.
His expression twisted in weary annoyance.“Spaghetti wasn’t in the plan for today,” he snapped.“What happened to the fish?”
Kelsey blinked, taken aback by his reaction. Beside her, she saw the girls’ excitement fade.
She stirred the ground bison.“I thought I’d help by making dinner,” she explained, trying her best to hide her irritation.“I didn’t realize it would be such a big deal.”
“Your job,” Spring said icily,“is to watch the girls. I didn’t need you to cook dinner. Especially not whatever the heck it is you’re making. I have a fresh fish that needs to be cooked tonight.”
“But Daddy, Ihatefish!” Abby whined, her nose scrunching up.“We want spaghetti!”
“Yeah. And Ms. Kelsey is showing us how to make spaghetti sauce from scratch,” April chimed in.
“Fish is good for you,” Spring retorted, folding his arms across his chest.“And it’s a sin to waste food, especially when that fish died to provide us with a meal.”
The girls exchanged glances, their faces twisting into exaggerated expressions of disgust.
“Poor fish!” Abby exclaimed.
“I wish you hadn’t killed it, Daddy,” April chimed in.
“Girls,” Kelsey reprimanded gently.“That’s not respectful or nice. Your father wants the best for you, and that includes feeding you healthy meals.”
“Kelsey’s right,” Spring added sternly.“And I was going to make fish and chips with that steelhead. I thought you both liked fish and chips.”
As the girls mumbled half-hearted apologies, Kelsey bit her lip. She knew Spring was tired, but why did he have to be such a grump about it? It was just spaghetti.
Why is he so fixated on his stupid plan?
She took a deep breath and met his stony stare.“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t stick to the plan. But maybe we can have spaghetti tonight, and I’ll make fish and chips for lunch tomorrow.” She pointed at the fresh produce on the counter.“Those are all from your garden, by the way. April helped me harvest them.”
