His Country Cinderella. Karen Rose Smith
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“Hi,” he said, knowing that wasn’t a foray into great conversational territory.
Nevertheless, she smiled back. “Hi. Come on in.”
He was carrying a bag of takeout from DJ’s and he stepped into her small kitchen, setting it all on the table. Glancing around, he saw that the room was charming, with its yellowand green-flowered café curtains, matching mixer cover and placemats. The appliances weren’t new, but everything looked spotless, from the off-white countertop to the pale green tiled floor. “This is nice.”
“It’s small, but we like it.”
They gazed at each other for a few seconds, a buzz of electricity shimmering back and forth between them. He motioned to the packages on the table. “I brought ribs from DJ’s so you can taste the real deal.”
“You want me to judge which is better?”
“I have no doubt which is better.”
She laughed—a sweet sound that pleased his ears as much as music did.
Taking off his sunglasses, he hooked them in his shirt pocket, half expecting her to recognize him. But she turned away and went to the refrigerator, taking out a pitcher of iced tea.
Jonah ran into the kitchen and skidded to a stop beside him. “I put my toys away. Mommy said I had to.”
“I didn’t want you to trip over something,” Jeannette explained with another one of those smiles that made him wonder if this was a good idea. Every time they looked at each other the room shook a little.
“Can we eat? Somethin’ smells good,” Jonah decided with a child’s propensity for getting to the bottom line.
Zane laughed. “We’ve got barbecued ribs, mashed potatoes, a fine helping of green beans because you do need something healthy, corn bread and a fresh-baked apple pie.”
“Wow!” Jonah said, impressed, his eyes big.
“Wow!” Jeannette agreed. “You really went all out.”
“That’s easy at DJ’s.” He’d seen the ads for LipSmackin’ Ribs with the manager, Woody Paulson, pointing to their offerings. Zane didn’t think they could compare to DJ’s food.
Going to the cupboard, Jeannette pulled out a few serving dishes to go with the place settings already on the table. “Sweet tea okay? Or would you rather have a beer?”
“Tea,” Zane said, knowing he needed to keep a clear head tonight.
Jonah headed for the arch leading to the living room. “I’m gonna wash my hands.”
“Good boy,” Jeannette complimented him.
Alone again, Zane asked, “So what did Dillon tell you about me when you called him? I mean, you gave me your address, so I must have passed the test.”
She gave him a sly smile. “The verdict’s still out.”
He thought about the civil trial he was facing, and the verdict that might come in that could change lots of people’s lives.
His expression must have gone all serious because Jeannette assured him, “Hey, I’m kidding. Sort of. I’ll make my own opinion about you.”
He took a step closer to her. “That’s the way it should be.”
He was still wearing his hat. Jeannette seemed to be staring at his mouth. He’d thought about shaving, but had decided against it. Before the past few months, he’d always had a neat, clean-cut persona—short hair and no beard. But now he really was another person, and he was becoming more comfortable with that person each day.
He noticed the pulse in the hollow of Jeannette’s neck was beating fast. It seemed to match the tempo of his. She picked up the pitcher to pour the tea. “Dr. Traub said he could vouch for your character, that he’d known you since you were both kids. He said you were still a good friend and always there when he needed you and that you liked children.”
Zane had always been grateful for Dillon’s friendship, never more so than now. “That’s a lot to live up to.”
“From the way it sounds, you already have. I know Dr. Traub is from Texas. I hear bits of conversation at the restaurant. You both have a Texas drawl.”
“Dillon and I are from Midland.”
“You’re a long way from home.”
“Yes, I am.” He realized she wanted more, but he didn’t know if he was ready to give it right now.
“What about you? Where did you grow up?”
“In Bozeman.”
Bozeman was about a half hour east of Thunder Canyon. Truth be told, he was more interested in other things about her than where she grew up. “I don’t know a tactful way to ask this, so I’m going to just ask. Is Jonah’s father involved in his life?” His gaze dropped again to her hand that was devoid of a wedding ring.
“Jonah’s father died before he was born.”
“I’m sorry.” Zane saw her swallow hard and take a breath. Obviously she’d loved the man a lot.
Before Zane could say anything else, Jonah scrambled back through the doorway and up onto a chair. “I’m ready,” he announced.
“So are we,” Jeannette singsonged back, recovering from whatever turmoil Zane’s question had caused. Already he could tell she was a good mom. Whenever he’d dated before, he hadn’t even thought of something like that. Of course he’d never dated anyone who had kids. And he wasn’t dating Jeannette, either. He was just—Having a meal with her…and her son.
The small table hardly fit the three of them. Zane’s long legs seemed to extend to the other side. As tall as he was, he couldn’t move without his elbow brushing Jeannette’s, or shift his legs without bumping Jonah’s knees. The little boy laughed when it happened. Zane made a game of it and Jonah giggled every time he did. With barbecue sauce smeared all over his face, on his fingers and on the spoon he used to scoop mashed potatoes into his mouth, he looked like he was having a great experience.
Zane wiped his fingers on a napkin as Jeannette ate another forkful of her dinner. “So, what do you think about the ribs?”
She seemed to consider his question with the importance he wanted her to give it. But then she shrugged. “They’re great, but the sauce tastes like the sauce we use at LipSmackin’ Ribs. I do have to admit the corn bread is wonderful and not something I should consider eating on a daily basis or my clothes won’t fit.”
Zane let