She didn’t let herself think about the next day, the stress she was feeling—she tried not to.
She’d spent the past year being the principal Stonewall Crossing needed, and hopefully that was enough for the school board. But try as she might, she couldn’t ignore that her assistant principal Ken Branson knew the right people, had money, and a wife and kids. He was the total package. And serious competition for the job—if he applied.
She realized Ryder was watching her and shrugged off her worries. Her worries would keep until the company was gone and Cody was in bed.
She stood, clearing the table while the others chattered on. When that was done, she pulled out the apple pie she and Cody had made earlier that day. The scent of cinnamon and sugar filled the air and soothed her nerves. She loved baking. She loved cooking. There was something about preparing a meal and feeding friends and family that made her happy.
She cut two decent pieces for Cody and Grandma Florence and a larger piece for Ryder.
He nodded at her when she put the plate in front of him, his blue eyes lingering on her face a little longer than normal.
“You got your momma’s gift in the kitchen, Annabeth.” Florence reached for Annabeth’s hand.
Annabeth took it, kneeling by her chair to savor her grandmother’s moments of clarity. “She said she learned everything from you.”
Tears filled Florence’s eyes. “’Course she did. It’s a momma’s job to train her daughter in the kitchen. What sort of a wife and mother would she be if she couldn’t take care of her menfolk?” She winked at Ryder and smiled at Cody. “She’d be so proud of the woman you’ve become. Your daddy, too.”
“I’m trying.” Annabeth smiled.
“I know, Annabeth.” Grandma Florence shook her head. “You work too hard sometimes.”
“I do what needs to be done.” Annabeth kissed her cheek.
Grandma Florence shook her head. “Who takes care of you?”
Annabeth couldn’t answer that.
“Me,” Cody piped up, kissing her on the cheek. “Right, Ma?”
Annabeth nodded, hugging him to her. “Yep.”
“Lemme see that kitty o’ yours, Cody.” Grandma Florence patted Annabeth’s hand. “Thank you for dinner, Annabeth. You never forget our Sunday dinner.”
“It’s something I look forward to every week, you know that.” Annabeth held her grandmother’s hand in both of hers. This woman had been the one to teach Annabeth what it was to be strong while keeping a sense of humor. There wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t hear one of Grandma Flo’s bits of wisdom in her head, guiding her.
“Here he is, Grandma,” Cody announced. Tom was squirming in his arms but settled down once he was placed on Grandma Flo’s lap.
“Well, he’s a fine tomcat.” Grandma Florence held the cat up, turning the mewling animal this way and that. “He’ll have long legs. A good mouser.”
“He will be fast.” Cody babbled on, his stutter barely tripping him up he was so excited. And Grandma Florence, bless her, didn’t say a thing.
Now if Annabeth could get the boys at school to stop teasing him, Cody might not be so quiet all the time.
* * *
RYDER PULLED THE dish towel off the hook by the sink. He smiled as he fingered the row of lemons stitched along the trim of the towel. No doubt Annabeth had stitched each one herself. Lemons were Annabeth’s thing. She had a yellow kitchen with lemon-print curtains and lemon-print towels. Hell, she even smelled fresh and sweet like the fruit itself. He swallowed, her scent tickling his nostrils as she leaned closer to place a dish on the rack.
“You don’t have to,” Annabeth murmured. “Rest your wrist.”
He didn’t say anything, just dried off the plates she’d stacked in the dish rack.
What would she say if he told her the injury was her fault? After he’d left the kitten in her hands, he’d spent the rest of the night drinking. He hadn’t had more than a couple of hours’ sleep when his riding and drinking buddy DB picked him up and took him to the rodeo. If he’d been thinking clearly, not torn up with guilt yet wanting her, it wouldn’t have happened. He’d have been thinking about the ride, not her. Not that she’d see it that way. No, she’d argue with him, tell him he was a grown man capable of making his own decisions...
She sighed as he dried another dish. He smiled.
It was the least he could do after inviting himself to dinner. Annabeth always made something special for Florence’s Sunday-night dinner. Annabeth always made him feel welcome. Florence and Cody made him feel wanted. Two things he never felt at his father’s table. He’d stayed away the past few weeks and he’d missed it. But tonight, he had news he had to share.
All of his hard work, endless tinkering and attention to detail might just pay off. He was a master mechanic; engines just talked to him. And his bodywork was a work of art. Apparently, the owner of a big custom garage in Dallas agreed. According to his boss, John, Jerry Johannsson, known as JJ, had seen some of Ryder’s bodywork and was impressed enough to track down Ryder’s whereabouts. JJ had badgered John, who wasn’t much of a talker, with all sorts of questions. Whatever John had said convinced JJ that Ryder should come for a visit. John wasn’t happy about Ryder’s interest, but he kept his opinions to himself. Maybe now Ryder would finally get out of Stonewall Crossing and away from his past.
As soon as John had told him, Ryder had headed to Annabeth’s house to share the good news over dinner. If there was one person who would support him, it would be Annabeth.
But something was wrong, he could tell. Tension seemed to weigh Annabeth down, and he didn’t like it. Whatever it was, his news could wait until he could fix whatever was wrong.
She tucked a long strand of her golden hair behind her ear, drawing his attention to her. To her ear...her neck. He spent plenty of time thinking about her—them—even though he knew better. Best thing he could do was find some sweet thing and wear himself out. Hell, the pretty medic that wrapped his wrist had offered to take him home for a more “thorough assessment.” He’d been curious. Her cherry-kissed lips and fiery red hair were tempting. But in the end he’d gone home alone. Just like he had every night since the night he’d shared with Annabeth. And it scared the crap out of him.
“Dishwasher broken?” he asked.
She nodded. “I still remember how to operate a sponge, so we’re good.”
He grinned at her. “Bet I can fix it.”
She shook her head.
“You don’t believe me?” he teased, nudging her with his elbow.
She looked up at him, her hazel eyes so big he paused. “I know you can, Ryder. It’s just...” She shook her head, plunging her hands back into the soapy water. “It’s fine.”
“Sure, if you like washing all your dishes by hand, maybe.” He set the dish in the drying rack and waited.
She
