“Just Jack and me. Room for two more.” He dropped his arm to his side. He looked uneasy, as though he were the visitor. “I cleared off the dining room table and set four places.”
“I’m totally famished,” Iris said, all breathless teenager.
“Famished,” Lily echoed quietly, slipping her daughter a skeptical glance.
Iris answered her mother with a perfunctory smile. “Totally.”
The table wasn’t quite clear, but it was long enough to accommodate stacks of magazines and paperwork at the far end and still give them plenty of room to eat. Lily recognized the red vinyl place mats with the bandanna pattern, and the plates with the apples on them hadn’t changed, either. She doubted he put them out every day. The little table in the kitchen was only big enough for two, but that was the one she and her father had always used after her mother left. That and the plastic plates and whatever utensils happened to be in the drainer.
“Cold drinks in the fridge. Everything else is …” Mike gestured toward the kitchen. “Pop and iced tea. Pretty much all we carry this time of day. But I can make coffee.”
“So can I, Dad. Iced tea sounds good.”
“Jack’s getting cleaned up.” He waved his hand toward the table. “Have a seat and dig in.”
“Oh, no, we’ll wait for Jack,” Iris said, even as she followed the first half of the invitation.
Lily offered her daughter a smile, props for minding her manners. Her father had always been a stickler for good manners.
Tense silence took over, disrupted only by the sounds of Mike drinking. Water. He gulped it down—always had—three thunderous gulps, just so you knew he was there at the head of the table. Lily adjusted the position of the fork her dad had placed beside her plate as she glanced furtively across at Iris, who was fooling with something beneath the edge of the table. No toys at the table. Who would say it first?
The sound of booted footsteps brought three heads up in unison.
Jack stopped short of the table, swept off his cowboy hat and bowed his head. And yes, he was a hottie. Black hair—watered down a bit, if Lily wasn’t mistaken—square chin, full lips, broad shoulders, working man’s hands gripping the brim of what some women might say was the best kind of hat a man could wear.
Mike laughed. “Hell, man, take a seat.”
Jack glanced over at Lily. Hard to tell, but she was pretty sure he was blushing. Iris had been so right. The man was easy on the eyes.
And the innocent look in his eyes right now was utterly charming. “Thought I was interrupting a prayer or something.”
“More like you answered it,” Mike said. “Nobody wants to start without you.”
“I thought you said cowboys didn’t spike their hair, Mom.” Iris, Iris, Iris. She slipped her phone—what else could it be?—into the pocket of her jeans. “What do you use? Gel or spray?”
“Water. It’s called hat hair, and I was trying to …” Jack raked his hand through his thick wet hair. He glanced at Lily and smiled. “Should I go out and come in again?”
“Oh, no,” she said. “We’re glad you’re here.”
Chapter Two
Jack studied the back side of the barn roof, mentally calculating the square footage of the section that had yet to be resurfaced. Mike was strictly a do-it-yourselfer, but there was no way Jack was letting him get up there. It had been at least two years since the front and nearly two-thirds of the back had been covered with galvanized steel roofing. Jack remembered feeling relieved when Mike hadn’t asked if he was available to add the roofing job to his schedule. He would have had to say no, and back then it might not have been too hard. Mike had two whole lungs back then.
It probably wouldn’t take Jack too long to finish the job if Mike would get him the supplies. Since Mike’s surgery, Jack had offered more than once. Hinted, more like. Jack didn’t have to go looking for work. If there were thirty hours in a day he could easily fill every one of them with jobs he would enjoy, which didn’t include roofing. Mike was the only person on God’s green earth he would even consider doing that kind of work for. But you didn’t offer to help Mike do anything he hadn’t hired you for. You might get away with quietly doing something he hadn’t asked for, but if he noticed, he would for sure try to pay you for your time. Jack had half a mind to buy the materials himself—sure would be nice to plug up the leaks—but he hadn’t figured out a way to apply sheets of metal to a roof without making any noise.
On the ground, sitting close to his right boot, Hula roused herself, pricking her envelope-flap ears. The dog’s nose was like an arrow, and Jack’s glance followed her direction. It was a moment before he heard footsteps, another before Mike rounded the corner of the barn. He looked tired, and he was clearly trying hard to hide some new pain that had him gimping lately.
He gave Hula a leathery hand to sniff, patted her head, hitched up jeans that were already riding too high, looked up at the roof and folded his arms over his withering chest. “I’m gonna get to that this spring for sure.”
“After we finish calving.” Jack followed Mike’s lead, and the two men stood side by side, arms folded, eyeing the barn roof.
“Absolutely. I’ll have plenty of time then. Before it gets too hot. I’m countin’ on you to help me with calving.”
“You’ve got me. First on my list. Whenever things get slow here, I’ve got Jensen and Corey on there, too, but you know you come first.”
“You ever thought about taking on a partner?”
“You lookin’ for work?” Jack grinned as he adjusted the brim of his hat against the sun. “If I ever thought about it, which I haven’t, I don’t know too many other men I’d take on.”
“How about women?” Mike slid him a straight-faced glance. “Just kidding.”
“You got one in mind?”
“If you ever decided to expand, you’d want to go equal opportunity.” Mike was back to studying the roof. He lifted a shoulder. “A woman can cowboy as good as a man.”
“She’s trained for teaching. That’s about as good as it gets, I’d say. Lots of schools out here have trouble hangin’ on to good teachers. But cowboy like a man?” Jack shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“I didn’t say like. I said just as good. Tell you what, Jack, my girl can ride.”
“When was the last time you said that to her?”
“I don’t know. Maybe never.” Mike slid one hand down the side of his left thigh and rubbed. “She didn’t need to be told. She knew what she could do, and she did it.”
“What’s going on with your leg?”
“It’s gettin’ old, just like the rest of me.”
Jack adjusted
