it good?” he asked.
“It’s like a little taste of heaven,” she said begrudgingly.
“Mine is delicious,” Jenny said, her lower lip sporting a glob of pink frosting. Miranda gave her daughter a napkin.
“So is mine,” Henry said. He wiped his mouth with the napkin Miranda also handed him.
“I know you work at the high school. Do you enjoy teaching?” Clay asked.
“I do.” She stared down at her cupcake as if it was the most amazing object she’d ever seen in her life.
“You teach English, right?”
“Right.”
Clay bit back a sigh of frustration. It was obvious she didn’t intend to have much of any conversation with him. He didn’t get it. He’d never done or said anything to make her any kind of angry with him. Was she this way with all men? He’d never heard of her dating anyone since her divorce.
“Mr. Clay?” Henry eyed Clay with speculation. “Do you know how to play baseball, Mr. Clay?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Clay replied. For just a moment he remembered being young and on a ball field, the only place on earth where he managed to escape his father’s wrath for just a little while.
The scent of fresh-cut green grass had replaced the sweet violet fragrance of his absent mother and a coach’s pat on the back was the only nice touch he ever got from anyone.
“Mr. Clay?” Henry’s voice pulled Clay from his thoughts. “Would you come over and teach me how to play ball better? I asked my dad to help me but he said he likes football and doesn’t know anything about baseball.”
“I’m sure Mr. Clay has far more important things to do with his time than teach you how to be a better baseball player,” Miranda said quickly. She looked positively panicked at the very idea of Clay helping her son.
“Actually, I’d love to help you out,” Clay said to Henry. “I could come over to your house a couple of days a week after school.”
“That would be totally awesome,” Henry replied.
“In fact, we could start tomorrow.” Clay actually looked forward to helping the boy. Playing a little ball would bring back some good memories for him.
Henry’s smile fell. “I can’t tomorrow. We always go to our dad’s on Saturdays and Sundays.”
“Then Monday after school,” Clay said. And maybe in helping Henry he’d have a chance to get to know Miranda better, and more importantly, she’d get to know him and not just his reputation.
He now smiled at her. Darn, but she was one fine-looking woman. The royal-blue blouse she wore enhanced the hue of her blue-gray eyes, and sitting this close to her he could see her long, beautiful dark eyelashes. Unfortunately, she didn’t return his smile.
For the next few minutes he tried to make more small talk with her, but whatever he asked she answered with short, curt replies. All too quickly the kids were finished eating and they all got up to leave.
“This has been an unexpected pleasure,” he said.
“It was definitely unexpected,” Miranda replied. “Thank you, Clay.”
“No problem.” He looked at Henry. “And I’ll see you on Monday afternoon.”
“You promise?” Henry asked.
“I promise,” Clay replied.
The kids ran ahead of them to exit the shop. “You don’t really have to come over on Monday,” she said softly so the kids wouldn’t hear.
“I made a promise. You might not know this about me, but I never break my promises,” he replied.
They stepped out into the warm evening air. “Thank you again,” she said. “This was a nice thing to do for the kids.”
“I like to do nice things. Good night, Miranda and I’ll see you on Monday.” He turned on his boot heel and headed in the opposite direction, toward where his truck was parked in front of the General Mercantile store.
He got inside his vehicle and headed for home with thoughts of Miranda Silver whirling around in his head. Being near her had excited him. There was something about her that drew him, but it was pretty obvious she didn’t feel the same way about him.
He rolled down his window and allowed the late May evening breeze to fill the cab. The air smelled fresh and sweet with a hint of blooming flowers.
Clay loved spring, when the barren winter pastures turned a lush green and the trees once again sprouted leaves. It was usually the season of birth...cows calved and horses foaled and rabbits ran everywhere. All the cowboys had new purpose as they went about their chores after the winter’s slower pace.
Fifteen minutes later he pulled through the entry to the Holiday Ranch. This had been his home since he’d been thirteen years old and had finally gotten up the courage to run away from his home in Fox Hill, a small town about thirty miles outside of Oklahoma City. He’d run to escape his father’s physical and emotional abuse. He’d hitched a ride to Oklahoma City and had spent three brutal months living on the streets.
Luck had landed him here, along with eleven other lost boys, in the custody of Cass Holiday. Cass had passed away, but the ranch continued to thrive under the hand of Cass’s niece, Cassie.
He drove past the big white two-story house where Cassie lived with her husband, Chief of Police Dillon Bowie. In the distance lights had begun to appear in the cowboy motel against dusk’s deepening shadows.
The long building housed the cowboys in small individual rooms and in the back of the building was the dining/rec room. Clay parked his truck and headed around to the rec room, knowing that several of his fellow hands would probably be there chilling out after a day of work.
Sure enough, seated on the sofas and chairs were Jarod Steen, Flint McCay and Mac McBride. As usual Mac strummed his guitar, filling the large space with the sweet melody of a ballad. When he spied Clay, he stopped playing and put his guitar aside.
“Hey, man, what’s happening?” Mac asked.
“Nothing much.” Clay sank down on the sofa next to Jerod. “I just had cupcakes and ice cream with Miranda Silver and her two kids.”
All three men stared at him as if he’d just announced he had decided to marry a cow and have the wedding on the planet Venus.
“You and Miranda Silver? No way,” Flint said.
“Well, she is probably the last woman in the entire state Clay hasn’t dated,” Mac said dryly.
“Ha ha,” Clay replied and then told them about the chance meeting with Miranda and her children. “I’ll admit I’ve kind of had a thing for her for a while, so this evening was a great chance to get to talk to her. I’d really like to get to know her better.” But there had been no way he felt that asking for a date would be a good thing when they were leaving the cupcake place.
“And
