Recipe for a Homecoming

by Sabrina York

  “Without me?” A dramatic howl.

  Mark chuckled. “You saw him this morning, remember?”

  “But I wanted to show Roni.”

  “You can show her the kittens,” Sam suggested.

  Emma put out a lip. “It’s not the same.” She wriggled to get free and when Mark released her, she ran to Roni, took her hand and peeped up at her with soulful eyes. “Will you sit by me at supper? And tell me all about real school?”

  “Absolutely. Anything you want to know.”

  And, Lord help her, Emma asked everything. While the others ate their supper, a thick, juicy roast with fingerling potatoes and a nice fresh salad, Veronica explained about recess, bathroom passes, lesson plans and turtles...because Emma had seen a class on TV that had a pet turtle. She was worried every classroom had them, and she wasn’t sure what she thought about them because her doctor had told her that some turtles carried a virus and you had to wash your hands after touching them.

  “I had to wash my hands all the time,” she confided, “when I was sick.”

  “I imagine so,” Roni said. That afternoon, Lizzie had told her all about Emma’s illness and how serious it had been. She gave Emma a side hug. “I’m so glad you’re better.”

  “So are we,” Lizzie said with a wide smile at Luke, who blushed.

  Roni shot him a curious glance. He cleared his throat, wiped his mouth with a napkin and said, somewhat sheepishly, “It was my bone marrow.”

  Ah. No one needed to say anything more. But Emma did, anyway. “He’s got super bone marrow. Look.” She made a tiny muscle with her tiny bicep. “I bet he could cure anything with that bone marrow.”

  “Yes,” Roni agreed. “I bet he could.”

  “I bet I’m as strong as Uncle Luke now.”

  “You look pretty strong,” Luke said with a grin, and Emma preened.

  “I could probably do anything now,” she said, looking hopefully at her mom.

  Lizzie frowned. “No horse camp until the doctors say okay, young lady.”

  “Mo-om!” Clearly that had been what Emma had been angling for.

  “Hey, anyone ready for dessert?” Roni asked gustily, if only to distract Emma from her argument.

  Mark grinned. “Bring it on.”

  “What do we have?” Lizzie asked.

  “Well,” Sam said with a flourish. “Our guest, Veronica, baker extraordinaire, has made a selection of amazing treats for us. Come on, Roni, let’s bring them in.”

  “I want to help!” Emma jumped up, too, as Roni stood to head for the kitchen. But everyone knew Emma really wanted first pick. No one minded at all.

  Oddly enough, once dessert was on the table, conversation stopped. Just a lot of moans and mmms. Roni noticed that the apple pie went first, but the brownies were a close second. Of course, Gram took a bunch of molasses cookies before anyone else could get to them. It was gratifying to see all of them eat her creations with such gusto.

  “I’m so glad you liked it,” she said when one or another of them would surface to compliment her on this or that.

  “How are you not baking for a living?” Danny asked.

  Roni blinked. She wasn’t sure how to respond. She wasn’t actually doing anything for a living right now, other than taking care of Gram. She hadn’t had a job in years. And after the last time Anthony put her in the hospital, she’d been busy putting herself back together again, focusing on her healing process and, frankly, not much else.

  Suddenly, she realized everyone was staring at her, waiting for an answer. In the end, she simply said, “Thanks. I really do love it.”

  “Hey,” Mark said as he helped himself to another lemon bar. “Didn’t that bookstore used to be a bakery way back when?”

  DJ stroked his lower lip. “Yeah. I remember Mom taking us there once when we were little.”

  Sam nodded. “I wonder what happened.”

  “There was a fire in the kitchen,” Dorthea said, which caused heads to swivel. Neither she nor Gram had said much during the meal, other than to gossip with each other about people they used to know, most of whom were now long gone.

  Luke gaped at his grandmother. “What?”

  “Isn’t that so, Mildred?” Dorthea asked.

  Gram shrugged and took another bite of her cookie. “That was before my time, I’m afraid.”

  Dorthea barreled on. “Mmm-hmm. See, Frank Barsoni was having an affair with Sally Winthrop. Well, when old Harley Winthrop found out, he had a fit and went into town to burn the bakery down. They caught him before he could do too much damage, of course, and the fire crew was able to save the building, but it was enough to make Barsoni leave town.” She paused and glanced around at all the stunned faces. “It was in all the county papers.” And then, with a shrug, she returned to her cake.

  “Well,” DJ said. “There you go. The bookstore used to be a bakery.”

  “Heck, if you made stuff like this, I would drive all the way into town to eat it,” Danny said, snagging a brownie.

  Sam’s eyes widened, the way they always did when she had a crazy wild idea. “You should.”

  “Hmm?” Roni frowned at her.

  “You should make stuff like this. You were saying the bookstore’s struggling.” Struggling was such a charming way to put it. “What if you refurbish that back room with ovens, refrigeration, whatever you need, and add a bakery/café to the space?”

  It was a great idea. Totally ridiculous, but fun to think about.

  “You could do that,” Mark, by her side, said softly. “You could totally do that.”

  She glanced at him and he smiled at her. When he smiled at her, she felt it down to her soul. “It’s Gram’s store. You all know that, right?”

  Gram shrugged. “I love baking. We could work together.”

  Roni smiled at her. What a lovely thought. Then, of course, reality crashed in. “I don’t know the first thing about running a business.”

  “I do!” Lizzie raised her hand. “I mean, I am an accountant. I could advise you.”

  “She’s good,” DJ said with a nod.

  Still... This was crazy. “Just think how much it would cost to buy restaurant-grade appliances. Not to mention the work that room needs before I could even consider making goods for public consumption. The health and safety inspections we’d have to get—”

  “We’ll help,” Mark said.

  His offer was then echoed by each and every one of them.

  “You guys are the best. But my point was that the right equipment costs, well, more than I have in my savings.”

  DJ leaned forward and cleared his throat. “We can help you finance it.”

  Though warmth swelled, a hint of horror came with it. “I couldn’t let you do that, DJ. Businesses fail every day.”

  “Businesses flourish every day, too,” Luke said through a mouthful of brownie.

  “This one won’t fail. Not in this town.” Sam frowned at her. “Have you seen the way these guys eat? And BR is full of people who crave homemade sweets.”

  Still, Roni resisted. “I don’t want to go into debt. It’s just not...”

  “Tell you what. You can pay us off in baked goods,” Mark said.

  Danny leaped to his feet. “Better yet, we’ll be your partners. Can you imagine? Muffins whenever we want?”

  “I make muffins,” Lizzie said in a wounded tone.

  Danny cleared his throat. “Muffins that aren’t made of quinoa.”

  “Oh, my God. Can you imagine that?” DJ said in a wistful tone.

  “No flaxseed?” Mark grinned. “Real butter? I’m drooling.”

  Lizzie sniffed. “There’s nothing wrong with being healthy.”

  “There is when you want pie.” As though to make his point, DJ took another forkful of the slice on his plate.

  Right. I
t was time to stand up and be firm. All their kindness and generosity was lovely, but it was also making her feel...self-conscious. If she did something like this—and that was a big if—she would want to do it on her own terms. Owe no one. “Thank you all for your encouragement. I really do appreciate it. But I just couldn’t ask this of you. I really, really couldn’t.”

  DJ studied her for a moment then nodded. “Okay. Just think about it.” Which wasn’t surrender, exactly, but it was certainly enough to end this uncomfortable conversation.

  Though Roni was certain the topic would arise again. She knew this family well enough to expect nothing less.

  * * *

  Mark had a hard time falling asleep that night. Partly because the dogs were hogging the bed, but mostly because he couldn’t stop thinking about Roni, running everything she’d told him through his mind over and over again. Thinking about what he might be able to do to help her out.

  Of course, his mind wandered to things he could do to make her happy, though he knew in his gut those ideas probably wouldn’t fly. Of his physical attraction to her, there was no doubt. But she wasn’t ready for that, and even he could recognize that she might never be after what she’d been through.

  He knew she needed a friend, but it ran deeper than that, he was realizing. She needed at least one man in her life—maybe he could be the first man to do it for her—who would respect her boundaries. Who, in doing so, would be able to help her heal not just whatever physical wounds lingered, but the emotional trauma of her marriage. The confidence and self-worth that had been cruelly stolen had to be restored to her. He couldn’t do it for her—he knew that. But maybe, by keeping their relationship platonic, while being present and there for her in ways she required...maybe that would be enough to help her find what she needed.

  It wouldn’t be easy. The irony wasn’t lost on him. When a person is told what they are often enough—when a person fulfills expectations often enough—it becomes a living thing, a reality. Sometimes a cage.

  No one had ever expected anything more of him than to be a good-looking guy, out for a good time. He’d delivered exactly that, always being the Mark Stirling everyone expected—smiling, easygoing, constantly up for fun, without a thought in his head. Was it wrong for him to want to be seen as someone capable of so much more than just a good-time Charlie? To be valued for who he was, rather than just what he looked like?

  Every romantic relationship he’d ever had, had ended, and all for one reason. They’d been based on the physical...because neither he nor his various partners bothered to reach for something more. And then, when all those couplings based on physical attraction petered out—and they always did, at some point—there was nothing left to cling to. Sometimes he wondered if that might be all he had to offer a woman—sex. Was it foolish to want to be worth more than that to someone?

  But now, here he was, faced with a woman who wanted everything from him except that. A drop-dead-gorgeous, smart, funny, challenging woman. A woman he wanted physically, but also wanted in a deeper way, in a way he didn’t quite understand.

  Was this irony or opportunity to prove to himself that he could be more than he was? Or both?

  Regardless, he was determined to try. No. He was determined to succeed in being a good friend to her. If that was all she was willing to take, then that’s what he’d give her.

  Hell, it might even be good for him.

  * * *

  Gram went right to bed that night, but Roni’s mind was in a whirl after their day at the ranch. She hadn’t enjoyed herself so much since...well, she couldn’t remember. The whole day, she’d felt warm and welcome and, yes, part of a family.

  More so than she’d ever felt with her own family, but then, Mom and Dad had been too busy fighting with each other to bother much with her. On top of that, living in a military household meant moving every year or so, which made lasting friendships difficult. Her life had had little or no stability whatsoever. Different friends, different schools, different houses. Perhaps that was why summers here had been so special for her. She’d always felt included here, a part of something. There had been a consistency she’d never experienced anywhere else.

  Was it such a surprise that she’d thought she’d found it with Anthony? He’d had a regimental air about him that felt familiar to her. He’d liked order. He’d liked things in their place. He’d liked knowing where she was and who she was with and what she was doing at all times. At first, she’d been charmed by that obsession over her every breath, but after a while, she’d recognized his control for what it was. Malignant.

  Every time she attempted to step outside the imaginary walls he had created, she threatened his authority over her. And she paid. The price got higher and higher, until finally it cost her the dream of being a mother.

  Granted, she’d only been three months along in her pregnancy, but that hardly mattered. Any woman who’d suffered such a loss would understand. She’d loved that baby with all her heart. She’d built a world of hope and dreams around that baby. Now, because of the damage he’d caused, she’d not only lost her baby, but also, according to the specialists who had treated her injuries, she’d lost any future chance to have children. Ever.

  Of all the pain Anthony had caused her in their marriage, that loss was, and always would be, the worst.

  It felt so good to be free of him. To be free of the weight of trying to please someone who took pleasure in being displeased. Gretchen said it took courage to release the past, and it was true. It had taken two years, but, damn, if it wasn’t worth the effort.

  Oh, sure. She still had things to work through, and she knew it. But she also knew she was getting better. She was starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel, and it felt really good.

  Roni wasn’t tired in the least that night, so she made herself a cup of tea and nibbled on cookies as she watched a rerun of a sitcom on television, and allowed herself to laugh. It wasn’t long before her mind took her back to the events of the day. Specifically, in the barn with Mark.

  Yes, it had been horrifying to realize that he had found out about the true nature of her marriage. But now, looking back, taking in his reaction to it, and to her, her heart swelled.

  He had accepted her, unconditionally. No one had ever done that before. There had always been conditions attached to love in her life, with her parents and with Anthony—conditions like obedience and compliance. So while this feeling was alluring, she was careful not to sink into it.

  Oh, it was a blessing—really, it was—to have a friend like him. Mark’s support made her so happy she wanted to sing, but that might wake up Gram, so she decided to bake instead.

  As she mixed a batch of muffins—with quinoa and flaxseed, just for Lizzie, who was insisting on healthy foods because she was pregnant—Roni hummed beneath her breath. Her thoughts kept straying back to Mark. During their date the other night, she’d been sure he’d only given lip service to understanding her, but now, she knew he truly did. That was a warming thought. Though she was determined to keep to her vow and avoid romantic entanglements, she couldn’t deny that, when he’d hugged her, she’d felt...something.

  She’d hugged Luke and DJ, as well—they’d been warm and comfortable. But Mark’s arms around her, his hard chest against her, the scent of his breath... Lordy.

  It was hard for her to admit to herself, but she had to.

  Mark was hot.

  It wasn’t just his big bulky biceps, or that sexy scruff on his chin. Or the dimples, or the crooked smile or the dance of mischief in his eyes. It was his soul. His laugh. His sense of humor, which, somehow, melded perfectly with hers. Of all the men she’d ever met, he was, by far, the most attractive, in every sense of the word.

  How wonderful would it be to release her fear or her self-preservation, or whatever it was that fueled her reserve? How wonderful would it be to let herself go and let herself enjoy just
one kiss? Or even...more?

  She froze in the process of slipping the muffins into the oven as a mind-boggling realization hit her. It was deliriously yummy. Warm and liquid and loose. It sent little tingles through her body. It made her want...

  How long had it been since she’d even thought about that?

  From where had this hunger come?

  Oh, it hardly mattered.

  It was enough to know that she could still have feelings like this. That that part of her hadn’t been snuffed out.

  The question was, what would she do about it?

  * * *

  When the sun finally rose, Mark pushed the dogs off his legs and got out of bed. After feeding them and letting them out into the run, he dressed and headed up to the house for breakfast. And, frankly, for company. Because if he was being honest with himself, he was feeling a little lonely.

  Too bad no one else was around to talk to, so he grabbed a muffin and headed out to do his morning chores. The minute he was finished, he found himself heading for his truck. Deep in his heart, Mark knew where he was going. He just wasn’t sure why.

  Before long he found himself parked in front of Milly’s bookstore, even though it was still too early for it to be open. Damn—was it too early for Roni to be up? He checked the dashboard clock. He probably should have remembered that not everyone operated on ranch time.

  Suddenly, he saw her come through the door that led from her apartment to the store. And his chest grew tight. He sucked in a breath and willed himself to stay calm. What he could not silence was the sudden happiness in his heart. Or the smile that curved his lips when she spotted him, grinned and waved maniacally.

  He levered out of his truck and met her at the door. “Good morning,” he said as she ushered him inside.

  “Good morning,” she said cheerfully. “Are you psychic?”

  “What?”

  Her laugh was like a melody. “I was just thinking about you and here you are. What are the odds?”