dinner in celebration. Ben had suggested the Torres family restaurant where he ate for free, assuring Zane it was the thought that counted. Zane hadn’t cared where they ate as long as it got him out of the house. The strained suppers at home, with Eden barely responding to questions about her new high school, were taking their toll. Especially after yesterday’s call from the guidance counselor that she was using her midsemester move as an excuse for not doing homework, claiming that she was still trying to catch up and that her workload was daunting. Zane knew his daughter, a former honors student, was capable of far more when she applied herself. He was angry, but he hadn’t meant to inflict their prickly relationship on innocent bystanders.
“Don’t worry about me,” Ben said. “I’m growing accustomed to lousy company. My brother’s been living with me since he and his wife separated. He was always a serious guy, but now he’s downright grim. Next to him, Eden’s full of bubbly cheer.”
“She used to be. There was a time...” Zane trailed off uncomfortably, not in the habit of discussing personal matters.
Recalling Eden’s childhood exuberance reminded him of the spirited girl who’d accosted him and Dolly over the weekend. Instinct told him Belle Hunt didn’t have a father in the immediate picture. For one thing, Kelsey had said she was leaving the care of her house to a lady, not a family. Had Alexandra Hunt needed a place to get back on her feet after her marriage fell apart? He silently wished her luck—single parenting wasn’t for wimps.
He ground his teeth. “Do you think all children of divorced parents turn bitter?”
“Divorce is tough, but you’re oversimplifying,” Ben chided. “Don’t you think it’s difficult for a teen to change schools midyear and make new friends no matter what her parents’ marital status? Besides, moodiness is normal for teenage girls. I grew up with a sister, remember?” He contorted his face into a comical mask of horror.
“Oh, please. Grace is one of the most hospitable people I’ve ever met!”
The three Torres siblings jointly owned The Twisted Jalapeño, but Chef Grace Torres was the one who ran the restaurant.
Ben rolled his eyes. “Sure, she’s the soul of hospitality now, as an adult trying to drum up repeat business for this place, but you should have seen her at fourteen! Maybe what Eden needs is a woman who can relate to her. Too bad your last date was back when dinosaurs were leaving those footprints in the Hondo Creek bed.”
“I haven’t noticed anyone special in your life, either,” Zane grumbled. Although he had noticed Ben sneaking surreptitious glances toward Amy Winthrop, the bartender. “Speaking of women, do you know anything about Alex Hunt? She’s living next to me temporarily, house-sitting for Kelsey and Dave Comer.”
“We should ask Grace.” Ben nodded at his crutches. “I haven’t exactly been man about town lately. Thank God the festival starts this weekend. I’m going stir-crazy.”
Frederick-Fest was a weeklong annual tradition that attracted tourists from all over the state and vendors from all over the country. Zane would be working some shifts to assist with security and crowd control.
“Will you be mobile enough to volunteer at the festival?” Zane asked.
“Not in my usual capacity, but I can work the first aid booth when other people need a lunch break. And Amy and I are going to sit at a table handing out promotional stuff for the restaurant.”
“Ah.” Zane smirked. “The lovely Amy.”
“Who’s Amy?”
Both men started as Eden slid back into her chair. Apparently she’d killed as much time as she possibly could in the restroom by braiding her blond hair and applying far too much makeup.
Zane did a double take. “Any particular reason you’re trying to make yourself look like a raccoon?”
Slashes of red appeared on her cheeks, and he regretted his words. He didn’t approve of the pound of cosmetics she’d slathered on her face, but he shouldn’t embarrass her in front of Ben. He was grateful when Ben answered her question, heading off any sarcastic retort.
“Amy is my sister’s roommate. She works here.” He gestured toward the bar and waved.
A pretty woman with purple-tinted hair waved back, making Zane ashamed of his knee-jerk reaction. Amy, with her tattoo and the line of earrings adorning her ear, was kindhearted and responsible. Maybe he shouldn’t let a couple of pink streaks in Eden’s hair and her enthusiastic use of eyeliner bother him so much.
“I was just telling your dad,” Ben continued, “that Amy and I will be working a shift at the festival. It starts this weekend.”
“Yeah, I heard some kids in class talking about a festival.” Eden sounded intrigued.
“We used to go every year as a family,” Zane said. “You remember the pony rides and all the food? I used to dance with you.”
“Ew.” Eden’s grimace made it clear she would not welcome a dance with her father at the polka pavilion.
Their waiter appeared, plates of hot entrées lined up his arm in such a seemingly precarious way that it was a miracle he hadn’t dropped everything on his walk from the kitchen.
“You’re going to love the food,” Ben promised. He’d expressed surprise when he’d learned this was Eden’s first visit to the Jalapeño, admonishing Zane that two and a half weeks was far too long a wait.
Ben’s words proved prophetic. After the first few bites, Eden wolfed down her food with the gusto and appetite Zane remembered from his own teenage years—when his mother used to tease that he couldn’t come grocery shopping with her because he’d eat half the purchases in the car before she could get them home. Between Eden’s enjoyment of the food and periodic questions about the festival, it was the most animated Zane had seen her since her arrival.
God bless the Torres family, he found himself thinking at the end of the evening. Chef Grace Torres had come to their table to say hi and make sure everything was delicious, and Eden had seemed a little starstruck to meet someone who was going to appear on a reality show.
Grace had explained that the producers wanted to film the cooking competition during the festival. “When the first episode airs, Amy and I are going to host a viewing party. You and your dad will have to come. Unless of course I lose. In which case, I plan to hibernate for a year in the longest pity party Gillespie County has ever seen.”
“There’s no way you can lose,” Eden had protested. “Your food is awesome!”
But once they were in the truck after dinner, Zane was on his own again, without Ben or Grace to ride to his rescue. “Glad you liked dinner,” he told his daughter. “We’ll have to eat there more often.”
Eden nodded promptly—confirming that the Jalapeño was the first thing she officially liked about Fredericksburg—but remained quiet.
He cleared his throat. “I, uh...I shouldn’t have said you look like a raccoon.”
She flinched, which wasn’t the reaction he’d hoped to get.
“I have to be at the festival most of the weekend,” he said. “Want to come with me and check it out?” When she shrugged noncommittally, he played the ace up his
