Page 70 of Ace of Spades
“Debbie? What are you doing here?”
“Oh, good morning, Wes,” she turns, offering me a bright smile. “I thought you guys weren’t leaving for another couple of hours, what are you doing up so early?”
“I could ask you the same question,” I tell her. “Isn’t today your day off?”
“I woke up early and figured I’d get a head start on inventory. It’s about that time for another grocery order, andRhonda and I were going to sit down this weekend and start making a meal plan for the bookings coming up in a few weeks. What about you?”
“Oh, uh—just figured I’d come grab some breakfast.”
“Want me to make you something? I’m already up, so I might as well.”
“No, really, it’s okay. Thank you though. I was just going to grab a few things and go make breakfast back at the cabin,” I tell her, walking over to help reach the bag of flour from the top shelf.
“I gotta say, it’s quite handy to have you tall folks around the ranch,” she says as I hand it over.
“Tall? Who told you I was tall?” I ask, offering her a cheeky smile as I grab a bag for myself before moving to the next shelf, grabbing the sugar and baking powder.
Debbie studies me curiously, turning to face me fully as she leans her shoulder against the shelves.
“And who exactly are you making breakfast for on this lovely morning?” she asks, giving me a knowing look.
“Nobody. I’m just in the mood for pancakes today.”
“Weston Langford, you are the worst liar I’ve ever met. Did you forget that I had a teenage daughter at one point in time? Nothing gets past me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell her, heading back into the kitchen with Debbie hot on my heels. I set the ingredients on the counter, moving to the fridge to grab some milk and eggs and placing them in the pile.
Grabbing a disposable coffee cup from the cabinet, I fill it with the coffee that Debbie must have made, topping it with a lid and trying to figure out how I was going to carry all of this.
“Do you have any bags around here I could borrow? I’ll bring everything back, promise,” I ask, trifling around through the cabinets.
“You know,” she says, resting her arms on the counter with an amused look across her face. “Hailey doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth in the mornings.”
“What are you talking about? She’s always the first to finish her plate whenever we have dessert,” I say, wincing as soon as I realize my mistake. I turn to find Debbie holding a barely contained smile, a satisfied smirk on her face.
“What gave me away?” I ask.
Her eyes dart to the coffee cup. Of course—Hailey is the only girl on the ranch who drinks her coffee black, like some sort of sociopath.
“Make her a breakfast sandwich, not pancakes,” Debbie tells me, moving past me to grab more things out of the fridge.
“A breakfast sandwich?”
“You know—with an egg, ham, cheese, all of that good stuff. It’s how her cook back home used to make it for her when she was little. Here,” she tells me, grabbing a loaf of her fresh sourdough bread sitting on the cooling rack.
“I baked this last night. I was going to give it to Rhonda and Mike as a thank you for holding down the fort while I visited Cheyenne a few days ago, but I can make another one today.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Now, go bring that girl some coffee before she wakes up and gets cranky.”
“Love you, Debs,” I tell her, accepting the bread as I give her a kiss on the cheek, turning to pack everything I need into a tote before heading back out to the truck where the dogs were waiting.
Hailey is still asleep when I get back to the house, all splayed out across my sheets. I don’t waste any time unpacking everything I need, heating up a pan with some butter before cracking some eggs in and preheating the oven to cook the bacon. I unload my grocery haul, getting to work as the dogs scurry about at my feet.
“Do I smell bacon?”
I was about ready to start putting the sandwiches together when Hailey’s sleepy voice came from behind me, turning to find her standing in my kitchen in nothing but my boxers and an oversized t-shirt, the hem nearly reaching her knees.
