here she was, cooking. He’d planned chicken for dinner, but his method involved a boxed coating and the oven. Hers involved flour, egg, oil and a frying pan. His mouth watered at the aroma. She’d rummaged through the fridge and pantry, coming up with all the ingredients necessary for macaroni and cheese. He’d kept her company, just making small talk, because it didn’t seem right to leave her in here alone.
Ty ran into the room. He’d been watching TV in the family room, which was an extension of the kitchen. It was a big, open place where he’d once pictured a bunch of kids playing while he and Jen watched over them from the kitchen. That dream went out the door with her.
“Is dinner ready? I’m starving,” the boy said.
Kate moved to the stove and checked the chicken sizzling in a pan. “This is done.”
After turning off the burner, she lifted the golden-brown pieces to a platter and set it on the island beside a warming tray. Turning, she went to the oven, opened the door and took out a casserole dish using protective mitts. She was better with them than the baseball glove, and the thought almost made Cabot smile.
“The mac and cheese is bubbling nicely. I’d say it’s done.” She set the dish on the hot tray beside a pot containing cooked green beans. “Dinner is ready.”
“Ty—”
“I’m already washed up.”
“Okay, then. You’re all set, men. Enjoy your dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Cabot was just about ready to breathe a sigh of relief as she started to leave. He felt edgy around her and was looking forward to letting his guard down and relaxing. “Thanks for cooking.”
“Wait,” Ty said to Kate. “You’re not eating with us?”
“No, sir,” she said. “I’m on the payroll and not doing anything to earn it. That’s why I cooked. I certainly wasn’t looking for an invitation to stay.”
“But, Dad, we should invite her.” Dark eyes, eager and innocent, looked into Cabot’s.
Apparently his son wasn’t getting his vibe about wanting her gone. “We shouldn’t take up any more of Kate’s time. She probably has things to do.”
“She just said she wasn’t doing anything and that’s why she cooked dinner,” Ty pointed out. “You always tell me to be polite and neighborly.”
Cabot looked at Kate, giving her a chance to jump in and say she couldn’t stay. The expression glittering in her green eyes said she knew he was squirming and she didn’t plan to do anything to help him out. If he had to guess, he’d say she was enjoying this.
He always did his best to be a good example to his son, which basically left him no choice. “Would you like to stay for dinner, Kate?”
“I’d love to,” she said brightly.
“Cool. I’ll set the table. It’s my job.” Ty proceeded to get out plates and eating utensils and set them on the round oak table in the nook.
“Don’t forget napkins,” Cabot reminded him. He looked at Kate. “What would you like to drink? Water, iced tea, beer, wine?”
“Beer,” she said after thinking about it.
For some reason her choice surprised him. “You look more like a wine woman to me.”
“Beer sounded good. I don’t drink normally when I’m in—” She stopped short of saying what she was in. Then she added, “I just don’t drink much.”
He wondered about the slip but let it pass. The less he knew about her, the better off he was. After pouring milk for Ty and grabbing two longnecks from the fridge, the three of them sat down to eat.
“This is my favorite dinner.” Ty took a big bite out of the chicken leg he’d picked off the platter. “This is really good. Way better than the Grizzly Bear Diner.”
“I’m glad you like it,” she said.
Cabot took a bite of his piece and found the crunchy, juicy flavors unbelievably good. After trying the mac and cheese he decided she was two for two. Green beans fell into a category of not good, not bad. Just something he had to eat because of that being-a-positive-role-model-for-his-son thing.
“Don’t you think this is the best dinner, Dad?”
He looked at the boy, then Kate. “It’s really good.”
“Thanks.” She looked pleased.
“How did you learn to cook like this?” he asked.
“My mom taught me. I spent a lot of time hanging out in the kitchen with her.”
“Why? Didn’t you have any friends?” Ty asked.
“Ty,” Cabot scolded. “That’s nosy and rude.”
“It’s all right,” Kate said. “You’re very perceptive, Ty. I actually didn’t have any friends.”
“Why?” Ty started to say something, then stopped.
Knowing his son, Cabot figured he’d been about to ask if there was something wrong with her. His son was developing a filter between his brain and his mouth. Maturity was a wonderful thing.
“When I was growing up,” she said, “my dad was career army and we moved every couple of years. It got hard to make friends and leave them, so I just stopped. I hung out at home mostly.”
“Wow.” The boy set his picked-clean leg bone on the plate, his eyes growing wide. “I wouldn’t like moving away from C.J. He’s my best friend. And I’ve never lived anywhere but here.”
“The ranch has been in the family for several generations,” Cabot explained.
Kate looked wistful. “I’ve never had roots. You’re lucky, Ty, to have a long-standing connection with the land and community.”
“It’s a blessing and curse,” Cabot said.
“How so?” She scooped up a forkful of macaroni and delicately put it in her mouth.
“When you’re the only son of a rancher, you pretty much know what your career is going to be when you grow up. What’s expected of you. There’s not a lot of choice.”
“Did you want to take another career path?” she asked.
“I majored in business in college because it was expected that someday I’d run this place. What I didn’t expect was having opportunities in the corporate sector. That life pulled at me some. But when it’s a family business, the situation becomes a lot more complicated.”
Kate glanced at Ty, and it was clear that she wanted to ask how he fit into the scheme of things, considering Cabot’s mixed feelings. When his boy grew up, would he be expected to take over the ranch? Cabot hoped he would be more flexible than his own father and let his son decide what he wanted to do with his life. He didn’t plan on pressuring Ty and saddling him with expectations of taking
