window to Closed. “How long have you been in here slaving over the bookkeeping?”
“Goodness, let me see.” She checked her gold wristwatch. “For much longer than I thought!”
“You lose track of time when you’re doing the books. I do the same thing.”
“I suppose so!” Gramma took off her glasses and wiped them on the corner hem of her stylish summer blouse. “I’ve lost two dollars and seventy cents I can’t find anywhere. I’d just finish the deposit and say, forget it. But it’ll be all I think about when I get home. Come, dear, sit down. You look as though you’ve got too much sun.”
“No need to fuss, I’m fine. I’m going to raid the kitchen and pray there are some leftovers in the fridge. I’m too beat to cook when I get home.”
“I knew it. You work too hard, sweetie. You can’t work every minute of every day.”
“I take a few minutes off now and then.”
“Don’t sass me, young lady. You’ve been skipping meals.”
“Not intentionally.”
Kendra ducked into the kitchen to avoid the lecture. She knew what was coming when Gramma got started. She loved her grandmother within an inch of her life, but how Gramma fussed! Kendra yanked open the industrial refrigerator and studied the contents. Jackpot!
Gramma’s sandals tapped on the floor, announcing her approach to the kitchen.
“I can do it myself.” Kendra pulled a bowl of chicken salad from the top shelf. “Do you want me to make you a sandwich, too?”
“Me? You’re the one needing to eat. Give me that. Where’s the mayonnaise?”
“I said I’d do it and I meant it.” Kendra wrapped her grandmother into a hug and breathed in the honeysuckle sweetness of her perfume. “You’ve had a long day, and you don’t need to make it longer by doing one single thing for me. You work too much.”
“I’ve got good help. The girls I’ve hired this summer have been a real blessing. There’s the macaroni salad you like in the bottom shelf. No, let me get it.”
Kendra snatched the big stainless-steel bowl from the shelf. “Out. Go back to your table. Shoo!”
“Nice try, but I wrote the book on bossy.” Gramma dug through the pantry and came up with a wrapped loaf of homemade bread. “We’ll both fix us something to eat while you tell me about your new horses.”
“You’re a tricky woman, Gramma.”
“Thanks, dear, I try. Hand me the serrated knife.”
Kendra did as she was asked and found two plates while she was digging through the dishwasher. “I won the bid for the prettiest mustangs I’ve gotten yet. One is as wild and mean as a bull, but the others have potential.”
“You bought a mean horse?” Gramma’s disapproval wreathed her soft, lovely face, as she cut thick slices of wheat-nut bread. “Is that safe?”
“He’s a stallion.”
“I don’t like the sound of that! Not at all. Boarding and training horses is one thing. But a stallion? How will you handle him? And he’s wild, to boot!”
“I have a little tiny eensy-beensy bit of experience with horses, remember?” Kendra twisted open the jar of mayo. “I’ve been riding since before I could walk.”
“I didn’t approve of that, either, the way your father would put you and your sisters on the backs of horses when you were nothing but toddlers!” Gramma’s eyes twinkled, though. “He must be a good-looking horse, if you bought him.”
“He’s a beauty. Bright chestnut coat. Perfect white socks. A long black mane and tail. And his lines…he’s got some Arabian in him.” Kendra sighed. “Of course, he gives new meaning to the word wild. I’m sure I can tame him, so don’t start worrying. I haven’t been killed by a horse yet.”
“Heavens, I should hope not! You do have a way with them. I don’t doubt that.” Gramma bit her lip as she layered meat mixture and cheese on a slice of bread. As if she were thinking better of saying anything more.
Kendra whipped the knife from her grandmother’s hand. “You go sit down. I’ll finish this up and bring you a cup of iced tea to the table. Go. Away with you.”
“You’re getting just as bossy as me. I like that.” Planting a kiss on Kendra’s cheek, she left the kitchen without further complaint.
That wasn’t like Gramma at all, but Kendra was too exhausted to dwell on it. She put away the sandwich makings, grabbed two bottles of iced tea from the case, shouldered through the swinging doors and into the silent shop.
With the wide bank of windows along the end wall, she had a perfect view of Cameron. He was rolling the tire across the street, apparently whistling as he went, looking like a hero in his navy-blue uniform.
“That Durango boy’s helpin’ you out, I see,” Gramma commented as she tapped keys on her computer. “Funny that you’d let a man do something like that for you.”
“Don’t go reading something into it that’s not there.”
“Is something there?”
How many times had they discussed this? “I’m not going to get married, you know. Ever. So don’t start getting your hopes up. The truth is, I’m so tired I can barely pick up my feet and Cameron offered to help me. He helps with this kind of thing all the time.”
“Which kind of thing would that be? A tire low on air? Or helping a very pretty eligible woman?” Gramma’s eyes twinkled as if she knew something Kendra didn’t.
“If you’re going to torture me about this, I’m taking my food and I’m leaving.” Kendra said it lightly, but she meant it.
The impenetrable titanium walls around her heart were sealed shut. They were going to stay locked tight. “I’m not interested in Cameron.”
“Then why, sweetie, is he fixing that tire for you?”
“Because he’s a sheriff and I had a long day in the hot sun and no lunch.”
She took a big bite of her sandwich to prove it.
“Fine. All right. I believe you.” She held up her hands helplessly. “You can’t blame a poor grandmother for hoping.”
“Oh, yes I can!”
“Only three of my granddaughters are married and have given me perfect grandchildren. There’s no crime in wanting more. Marge’s youngest girl married just last year and had a new baby boy last week. That makes for four grandchildren for her. I’ve got to keep up.”
Kendra rolled her eyes, her mouth too full to speak. What was the point? As if Gramma listened anyway. She had her definite opinions and nothing short of laser fire was going to change her mind.
“Cameron is certainly a good man, isn’t
