“That’s okay. I made spaghetti and meatballs. It was easy enough to put the oven on warm and cover the casserole with some foil.”
“I’m going to wash up,” he said, heading toward the stairs. “I’ll be about ten minutes.” He smelled of cow, for damned sure. Generally, he’d go upstairs when he arrived at the cabin, shuck out of his always dirty clothes, leaving them where they were and head for the hot tub to ease his many aching muscles, especially in his knees. Those joints had taken a beating when he was a recon. Right now, they ached like a perfectly matched set of banshees screaming for him to get off them and give them a rest. The hot tub would stop the tension and pain. He’d make it a five-minute soak.
Jake halted as he swung through the door of the master bedroom. His eyes widened. Everything was picked up. The bed was made. Hell, there was even a small blue vase with pasqueflowers, a pale lavender native to Wyoming, on the dresser. It was one of the first flowers to poke up its head after the brutal winter. Mouth quirking, he tried to pretend not to be pleased by a woman’s touch in his sterile house. He moved to the bathroom. There, he saw a square glass vase with more of the same wildflowers between the double sinks. New, matching lavender-colored towels had been put out where his other towel had been before. He shook his head, rapidly disrobing. There was a fresh bar of soap, too, not the tiny sliver of one he’d used to wash his hands in one of those sinks.
A woman’s touch.
It warmed his heart, though he tried to duck it and ignore it. Lily had made thoughtful touches here and there. Jake knew his mother would truly appreciate her attentions to detail. Now, for that lifesaving hot tub . . .
After five minutes, his knees stopped aching. He climbed out, went to the shower and washed away the cattle and manure odor, and the sweat and dirt from his body. He washed his short, dark hair, enjoying the lilac scent of the fresh bar of soap Lily had placed in the stall. Grabbing the large bath towel, he left the shower to stand on a sea-green-colored mat. The flowers made the place look ... well ... homey, he supposed. Maud was always prodding him to gussy up the cabin, but he’d resisted. He knew what his mother’s home was like, and this cabin certainly looked sterile in comparison. Lily would fix that before Jenna arrived, he was sure.
Quickly drying off, he hurried to put on a pair of tan chinos, a dark green, long-sleeved polo shirt, which he pushed up to his elbows, a pair of moose leather moccasins and slid a brown leather belt into the loops of his pants. The smells emanating from the kitchen made his mouth water. He swore he smelled biscuits baking. What were the chances? He loved biscuits but wasn’t a cook. The only time he got them was when he dropped over to Kassie’s Café, where they made them every morning for their hungry breakfast patrons, who raved about them.
In no time, Jake was downstairs. He saw a pink vase with pasqueflowers in the center of the table, where they were going to eat. To his pleasure, there was a huge basket of biscuits straight out of the oven sitting there waiting for them. Lily had placed him at the head of the table, and she was to the right. There was a bowl of salad, slathered with thin, curled slices of mozzarella cheese and small red tomatoes and lightly covered with an Italian dressing.
“Need any help?” he asked, pulling out her chair for her.
“No,” she said, easing the casserole out of the oven with mitten-covered hands. “What do you like to drink with your dinner?”
“Just water, but I can get that. Do you want some, too?”
She gave him a grateful look as she passed him and placed the ceramic dish on a dark blue metal trivet. “Yes, that would be fine. Thanks.”
“Those biscuits are a nice surprise.”
“Really? Kassie taught me how to make them. I was helping her in the kitchen at the café when I could. I wanted to somehow pay her back for her and Travis’s generosity. I’m kind of regarded as a line cook.” Straightening, she pulled off the mitts and placed a large spoon into the main course.
Bringing over the water, Jake placed a glass in front of each plate. He noticed she wasn’t using the daily dinnerware he did: some cheap plastic plates he kept in one cupboard. Maud had bought some porcelain dinnerware for the cabin, with flowery red and pink roses painted on it, a long time ago. That was what was on the table now. Lily sat down, and he pushed the chair closer to the table for her. His mother had taught him to be a gentleman, but he saw how surprised and pleased she was by his gesture. Sitting down, he said, “Hand me your plate. How much spaghetti do you want?”
“Not much, Jake,” she pleaded.
Mouth twisting, he grunted, “You’re too damned skinny, Lily. Jenna will get on you about that, too, mark my words.” He handed her the plate and picked up his own. He scooped four large spoonsful onto his plate, but he left room for a couple of those delicious-smelling biscuits.
“My parents said the same thing,” she muttered, pulling the small salad in front of her and picking up a fork. “My friends from the Army who have PTSD aren’t big eaters either.”
“It’s a standard symptom,” he muttered, frowning. He offered her the basket of biscuits first. Lily shook her head. She was picking at the salad like a bird. Fuming inwardly, he placed two warm biscuits on the side of his plate. There were bright pink linen napkins on the table, which he supposed she’d discovered from another kitchen drawer. Jake hadn’t looked through many of the cabinets, truth be told. Lily had probably gone through every one of them. He always grabbed a paper towel for a napkin. Well, it wouldn’t be too hard to get used to a linen one, he guessed. And really, the table looked inviting, unlike when he ate there alone.
“Maud called me earlier,” Lily said. “Your mom is due to arrive two days from now. We talked about getting a special medical bed and other supplies for her. They should be here before she arrives. There’s a medical store in Jackson Hole.”
He opened one of those huge, flaky biscuits and inhaled deeply, almost burning his fingers as he slathered butter across it. Lily had thoughtfully set a jar of honey and strawberry jam on the table. He picked up the honey. “Yes, she called me, too, keeping me in the loop with how fast things are happening. What room did you pick for her?”
“The room on the left, the one with the blue comforter on top.”
“It’s bigger than the other one.”
“We’ll have to get that special bed in there, where there’s already a queen-size bed.”
“Should I remove the queen?” He bit down on the biscuit, feeling as if he’d gone to heaven.
“No, we’ll just push it up against the wall. Jenna will only need the special bed for three or four weeks, if her rehab goes as planned. Then she can graduate to the queen.” She smiled a little. “Besides, that room has a nice flat-screen TV in it, plus a DVD player. The other one doesn’t. Jenna will get bored, and I want to make sure she’s occupied. I’ve got lots of plans for her. I’d rather have her tired at the end of every day but happy she could do things and keep engaged with life around her.”
“Jenna is a world-class knitter,” he told her. “Do you knit?”
“No. Do you?”
The line of Jake’s mouth broke. “No.” There was that spunkiness he liked about her so much. Her blue eyes glimmered with amusement and he damned near laughed out loud. How long had it been since he’d wanted to laugh? Jake couldn’t remember. He hadn’t earned the nickname Bear for nothing. He rarely, if ever, laughed. Or smiled.
“I think I’ll call your mom tomorrow. I’ll introduce myself, then ask her if she’s bringing along her favorite things with her. What else does she like to do?”
“She’s a camera buff. Loves photography. Has a real nice Canon camera.”
“Lots to photograph around here. It’s such beautiful country. What else?”
“She’s a serious reader, fiction and nonfiction.”
“I’ll ask her what she likes to read, then. Make sure there’s a stack of books nearby she can jump right in to.”
He finished the biscuit in record time, now digging into t
he garlic-laced spaghetti. Jake almost groaned, it tasted so good.
“Is it all right?” Lily asked, trepidation in her tone.
He gave a brisk nod, his mouth full.
“Are you sure?”
He swallowed. “Yeah, it’s good. I’m sure Jenna will demand really good food while she’s here. She hates fast foods. Loves fresh anything. She loves to cook, too. And she has a ton of spice jars in her house in Casper.”
“You don’t cook?” She put her salad aside and drew over the other plate, swirling her fork into the steaming spaghetti.
“Not much. My parents tried to teach me, but I resisted.”
She met his gaze. “I didn’t think you cooked much.”
“Oh? Because I’m a man?”
“No. There’s just a lot of hotdog buns, weenies and other junk food in your refrigerator.”
A chuckle arose in his throat. Lily missed nothing. “I usually get in late during the summer and fall, too tired to eat. I need something fast before I doze off in the chair.” He saw sympathy come to her eyes. Jake tried to keep his focus there and not on her pretty lips. Lily had a fine, straight nose, high cheekbones and a full face that mirrored her every emotion. He liked that she didn’t try to hide how she felt because he was bad at reading women accurately.
“Are you too tired tonight to give me a list of Jenna’s favorite meals? Maud is going to take me to the grocery store in town tomorrow so we can stock up on things for her.”
“Sure, I can. Want a list of foods I like, too?”
“Of course. I hope you’re not going to order more hotdogs.”
This time there was more than a slight rumble in his chest, a true, partial laugh.
Lily studied him openly, seemingly unafraid to make eye contact with him.
“You’re funny,” he muttered.
“Funny how? Funny odd? Funny humorous?”
He liked her jab back at him, holding him accountable for his comment. “Funny humorous. I think you’ll probably see me smile at some point in the next two months.”
“You don’t smile?”
“Not often.”
“But . . . why?”
“What’s there to smile about? Our country is going to hell in a handbasket. There’s people out there who don’t think the democracy and freedom we enjoy is worth supporting.”
Holding up her hands, she said, “I don’t discuss politics or religion with anyone, Jake. It’s a nonstarter for me.”
“Smart lady.” He hungrily ate the meal, savoring every bite. There were a number of spices in it. Jake couldn’t tell what they were, but they sure tasted good together. He decided to change the topic. “Your biscuits are like eating heaven. They’re really good, Lily.” He liked the way her name rolled off his tongue. There was a natural sweetness and lightness to it. Almost lyrical-sounding to him. He noticed she had the old-fashioned 1900s radio on in the background, with soft classical music playing. Maud had bought it and had it rewired for him about six months ago, saying the cabin was too quiet. She was always adding new antiques to the place as she found them.
“Thanks. I love to cook. You have a wonderful spice rack, but nothing seems used. Now I know why. You don’t have to spice up a hotdog, that’s for sure.”
Another rumble rolled through his chest. He took the second biscuit, opened it and used half of it to mop up what was left of that tasty, zesty marinara sauce. “Have you made coffee?”
“No. I didn’t know if you wanted any.”
“I’ll make it. Do you want some?”
“Yes. I don’t know of anyone in the military who isn’t a coffee hound.”
Yes, there was that very nice other side to Lily. She was a vet, no question, just like him. That made Jake happy for no particular reason, but it was an important part of her that had changed her forever, as it had him. “You’re right about that. Usually, I’m up at five a.m. and out of here by six. I’ll make a big pot of coffee and pour half of it into a quart thermos I carry on me, and when you get up, there will be enough left waiting for you.”
“That’s very nice.” She looked around. “Do you mind if I do a little decorating?”
“Oh, you mean like those vases of flowers?” and he gestured to them.
“Well . . . sort of . . .” She chewed on her lower lip. “Would you mind if I could find some nice, leafy houseplants to put in Jenna’s room and maybe out in the living room? Or in my bedroom?”
His brows raised. “Guess I never really thought of having plants in here. You have to water them.”
“I’ll water them,” she promised.
“Sure. I’ll leave you some money on the table tomorrow morning and when you go shopping in town, stop at Charlie Becker’s Hay and Feed. His wife, Pixie, is one helluva baker. She brings fresh hot cookies, cinnamon rolls, brownies and all sorts of other baked goods into the store twice a day. She’s the one who put in a small section of live plants at the store. That’s the place to go to get what you want.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
Jake felt his chest grow warm. Lily’s smile was infectious. He wondered when or if the PTSD would rear its ugly head within her. Liking the easygoing connection that had sprung up between them, he said, “I like the flowers, Lily. It makes this place look, well, nicer. I just don’t have the kind of job that gives me the extra time I need to hunt them down.”
“It brings life in here,” she said. “I walked around the lake earlier today, and there are pasqueflowers by the hundreds blooming on the banks right now. I just couldn’t pass them up. They probably won’t last long in a vase, but at least they’re alive and pretty.”
And, Jake thought, so are you . . .
Chapter Four
June 3
Guilt ate at Jake as he entered the cabin the next evening, near eight o’clock. He spotted Lily coming out of Jenna’s room. She looked weary. More guilt. He should have been here to oversee the medical items coming in, but he hadn’t. Instantly, he saw Lily perk up when she saw him, her hello smile bright. It fed something deep within him.
“Hey, you’re home!” she called, crossing the living room.
He closed the door and hooked the Stetson on the wall peg. “Long day,” he admitted. “Did everything come in for Jenna today?”
She nodded and hurried into the kitchen, opening the oven. “Yes. Maud and I, plus two of her wranglers, came over to meet the truck this afternoon. We got everything in, including the medical supplies I’ll need for her. We’re ready.”
“Good to hear. I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes,” he said, heading for the stairs. He smelled of mud and cow manure. It had rained last night, and the semi’s bringing in the beef had buried themselves up to their axles on some of the parcels next to the dirt road between them. He’d spent more time getting a backhoe and chains on the bumpers of the trucks to free them so the cattle could be unloaded.
“Roast beef with all the trimmings tonight,” she said.
Turning on the stairs, he saw she’d set the table for him. “Smells good,” he grunted, turning, pushing himself on aching knees up that long, curved flight of stairs. He’d seen her face light up at his gruff words and wished he could be kinder, maybe less harsh toward her. If his dark demeanor bothered Lily, it didn’t show. Still, the woman was a hard worker. She cared and was truly the right person to take care of his mother. She had that military responsibility toward others well in place. Jake was grateful. Worry about his mother’s condition had weighed heavily upon him.
When he came down later, showered and in a set of clean clothes, he saw the pot roast, bowls of honey-glazed carrots, mashed potatoes, celery and apples set around his plate to choose from. There were several slices of whole wheat bread and butter as well. A glass of water was nearby. He heard noise down the hall and figured Lily was at work in Jenna’s room. His stomach growled ominously; he’d missed lunch today, which probably contributed to his growly, low-blood-sugar mood.
Jake ate fast and he ate a lot.
Best of all, Lily had made a dark, tasty gravy, which he poured over everything except the baked apple slices. Sometimes, he’d catch her moving from Jenna’s room down the hall to her own, carrying items back and forth, but he didn’t know what they were. Just as he finished, she came out to the kitchen.
“Phew, that was a busy day for both of us. Coffee?” and she held up a cup she’d placed on the counter earlier.
“Yes . . . please.” Jake picked up his empty plate and flatware and brought it to the sink, where he rinsed them off. He wasn’t about to take advantage of Lily being a woman and expect her to wait on him hand and foot. He wanted her focused on Jenna.
“I made dessert,” she told him, taking two cups to the table. She added, “I hope you like bread pudding.”
He straightened after putting the dishes into the dishwasher. “Seriously? Bread pudding?”
“Yes.” She came back and put the creamer in front of him. “There’s caramel sauce for it, if you want.”
He stared at her. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
“Why?” and she brought down two bowls from the cupboard.
“You’re cooking things I like. Jenna loves bread pudding, by the way.”
“Like mother, like son?” She moved around him to the fridge and brought out a can of whipped cream, handing it to him. “I’ll bring over the dessert. Go sit down.”
Jake nodded and did just that. He saw faint shadows beneath her eyes as she placed the bowl in front of him. “How’d you sleep last night?”
Grimacing, Lily said, “I had a nightmare.” She wasn’t proud of it but saw sympathy come to his expression. “I get them maybe once or twice a week.”
“We’re a pair,” he said, drizzling the caramel across the warm bread pudding. “That’s about the same rate I get mine, too.”
“I wish they would stop.” She sighed, taking the caramel from him. “I don’t need sleep deprivation right now. I have to be alert and I will be, I promise.”
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