The Cowboy's Easter Family Wish

by Lois Richer

  “His death must have been very hard on both you and Noah,” Jesse said in the gentlest tone. “So after he died, you moved here?”

  “We were renting a house that belonged to the church Liam pastored. We had to move because they needed the house for their new minister.” Maddie wasn’t about to admit just how eagerly she’d left that unhappy place. “Noah and I rented for a while, then moved to Broken Arrow Ranch last summer.”

  “I see.” Jesse nodded. “That’s a lot of change for any kid to handle.”

  She immediately bristled, then realized Jesse wasn’t criticizing, simply stating facts. And yet she still asked, “Do you think I was wrong to move here?”

  “Are you kidding?” Jesse chuckled. “It was dusk when we drove up, so I didn’t get the full impact, but what I did glimpse of your spread was impressive. I doubt anyone would fault you for wanting to live here.”

  “I love it,” she whispered, but she didn’t tell him it was because the ranch represented freedom. Maddie glanced out the window as she explained the rest of her story. “Broken Arrow belonged to an elderly couple. They’d just completed interior renovations when the husband got sick. When they decided to move closer to medical care, Emma and Tanner both suggested I buy this place.”

  “Tanner—of Wranglers Ranch?” Jesse interjected.

  “Yes. I think he and Sophie wanted to make sure they got a good neighbor. They helped us move here. But I’m not sure they’ve benefited much. I’ve had to call Tanner for help with a mouse—twice.” Maddie chuckled. “The upside for us is that Sophie’s a caterer. She often invites us over to try her new recipes and they are always delicious. I think I got the better deal when it comes to neighbors.”

  “Ah.” His eyes twinkled with fun. “They get a good neighbor and you get good food. You’re a smart lady.”

  “Not that smart.” Maddie frowned. “What do we do for skewers?”

  “Why is making this so important to you?” Jesse asked curiously. “It’s just candy.”

  She glanced at the doorway through which her son had disappeared a few moments earlier, then answered in a hushed tone. “It’s not just candy to me. It’s a chance for Noah.”

  “To do what?” Jesse scanned the caramels and marshmallows. “This isn’t the stuff heroes are made of.”

  “It could be.” Maddie wasn’t above begging when it was for Noah. “Please, Jesse, show us how to make these treats.”

  She held her breath. Emma said Maddie was God’s child. Surely He would help her convince Jesse to help them?

  * * *

  Jesse had never been able to turn down anyone who asked him for help, and despite his recent vow to remain uninvolved, he couldn’t do it this time, either. Calling himself an idiot, he began unwrapping more candy, adding to the contents in the saucepan, which he noted was gleaming and without a scratch.

  She was a mom with a kid of, what? Seven? Eight? But apparently she’d barely used these like-new saucepans.

  Jesse glanced around. Come to think of it, the furniture looked brand-new, too. Nicely tailored, not fussy, definitely comfortable, with quilts scattered here and there. Precise, finely patterned quilts with detailed stitching... Everything looked unused.

  Also, everything was in its place. There wasn’t a speck of dust or a mess anywhere, no toy tossed here or a shirt discarded there. To Jesse, eldest of four rambunctious kids, this didn’t look like the home of a dog and a young boy. It was too—restrained. As if it hadn’t yet become home.

  Two pictures hung on the wall. One was a very large portrait of Noah staring at a birthday cake with eight burning candles. The second was a smaller photo of him and Maddie standing by a flowering cactus. There were no snapshots or precious photos of the late husband and father. Questions multiplied inside Jesse’s head.

  “What can we substitute for the skewers?” Maddie asked, drawing him from his introspection.

  “Forks, I guess. You don’t have regular toothpicks? Because they would work,” he said, as he added a small dollop of cream to the melting candy.

  “No, I’m pretty sure I don’t—oh, wait.” With a smile as big as Texas Maddie flung open a cabinet and lifted out a massive cellophane-covered basket. “This was a housewarming gift from your grandmother. I guess she thought we’d be camping out or something, because she put in a bunch of disposable things. Maybe there’s something we could use in here.”

  She pawed her way through the crackling cellophane, pulling out items and discarding them on the stone countertop in her search for toothpicks.

  “Well?” Jesse waited, content to watch this beautiful woman.

  “Nothing.” Maddie’s tone deflated when she came to the bottom of the basket.

  “These might work.” He selected and rotated a box.

  “What are they?” She leaned across him to read the label. “Oh. Stir sticks.” She turned away, then stopped and turned back, eyes glowing as she took the package and tore it open. “Stir sticks!” she repeated, her grin wide as she held up a handful.

  “Wooden ones, which are perfect, though I’m surprised my tasteful grandmother chose such lurid colors.” He plunged the tip of one purple-and-green-striped stick into a marshmallow and grinned right back at her. “Hey, Ark Man,” he called. “We’re making the treats. You better come help us so you’ll be able to tell the other kids how to make ’em.”

  Jesse hadn’t given a thought to calling Noah until he glanced at Maddie and suddenly realized he should have let her do that. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she stopped him with a tearful look.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, just before her son appeared. “We found stir sticks for the I Have a Dream treats, Noah. Emma sent them in that basket of stuff.”

  “Huh.” Noah watched Jesse, who drew his attention to the melting caramels. The boy spread the crisp noodles on a sheet of wax paper as directed, then mimicked Jesse’s action, dipping a skewered marshmallow into the melted candy, rolling it in the noodles and standing it in a glass to set.

  “Wait,” Jesse ordered, when they’d made a total of three treats. Mother and son turned questioning gazes on him. “There’s no point in making any more unless they taste okay. Go ahead,” he urged Noah. “Do a taste test.”

  Noah glanced at his mom, who nodded. With exaggerated slowness he lifted one of the sticks from the glass and tried to bite the caramel. Of course the marshmallow moved, escaping his teeth. Jesse couldn’t control his amusement, until Noah set the stick down, his face a wounded mask.

  “This is what you looked like.” Jesse made a fool of himself trying to coax a laugh from Noah and his mother and finally succeeded. “Now this is the proper way to eat them, or at least it’s how I’ve always eaten them.” He popped an entire marshmallow into his mouth, closed his eyes and chewed. “Mmm. I’d forgotten how good these were.” He savored the taste.

  Maddie reached for the last one. She put it in her mouth hesitantly, but then her eyes widened as she chewed.

  “Noah,” she said, wonder coloring her musical voice. “Taste it. They’re delicious.”

  “Sweets are bad for you,” Noah recited. “A third of all children starting school have tooth decay.”

  “It’s okay to have a treat now and then,” she told him.

  Jesse could see how hard the boy was finding it to taste the candy. Those rules again. Someone had sure brainwashed him.

  “Too many sweets are bad for you,” he agreed. “But you’re not going to have too many. Are you, Ark Man?”

  After a moment, Noah shook his head, picked up his skewer and studied it with a critical eye. “I like triangles,” he said firmly. “They’re the best. These are circles.”

  Jesse blinked. “Uh, I don’t know how to make them into triangles.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Maddie intervened with a smile. “Just try
it, Noah,” she encouraged. “Circles are good, too. Think about apples and oranges.”

  “I like triangles.” But he did slide the covered marshmallow into his mouth. The myriad of expressions that chased across his face was a delight Jesse was glad he was there to witness.

  “So tell me, Ark Man, are circles okay?”

  Still chewing, Noah nodded vigorously.

  “And do you think three each will be enough for your classmates?”

  He shook his head in a very firm no.

  “Then let’s get busy,” Jesse urged.

  They worked together in a relay. With delicate precision Noah speared the marshmallows, then handed the skewers to Jesse for dipping. He passed them on to Maddie to roll in the noodles. Halfway through they changed positions, so Maddie could dip and Noah could roll. And somewhere in the midst of the laughing and giggling and sneaky licks of a finger, Noah became an ordinary kid making a treat in the kitchen.

  When Jesse glanced at Maddie he found her watching him, appreciation shining from the depths of her gorgeous green eyes. He couldn’t look away, but she did, quickly, as if she was embarrassed.

  “We’ve used all the marshmallows, so I guess it’s time to clean up, and you need to get ready for bed.” Maddie mussed Noah’s too-perfect hair and pressed a kiss on his head. “How shall we keep these overnight, Jesse?”

  “Just leave them. They’ll dry out and firm up a bit. Then you can lay them in a box or container for school tomorrow.” He was embarrassed by his stomach’s loud rumble.

  “Didn’t you eat dinner?” Noah paused in his cleanup of the leftover noodle bits.

  “I didn’t.” Jesse shrugged. “That’s why I went to the grocery store. It’s Gran’s favorite. When she wasn’t at home, I hoped I’d find her there and that maybe she’d have dinner with me when she was finished shopping. Or maybe make me dinner.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll get something to eat on my way back to my campsite.”

  “You’re camping?” Noah’s bored look vanished, replaced by excitement.

  “Ever since I left Colorado, Ark Man.”

  “In a tent? With a campfire? And cookouts?” Awe filled Noah’s voice.

  “All of the above,” Jesse agreed.

  “Cool.” The word whooshed out of Noah as if he could only imagine such a life.

  “It is fun, except when it rains or there are mosquitos. Thankfully, the desert has little of either right now.” Jesse turned to Maddie. “I’ve taken some time away from work to see this country,” he explained.

  “What is your work?” she asked.

  “I’m—I was a youth pastor.” He could almost feel her draw back when he said the word pastor. “I, ah, needed a break.”

  “I see.” Maddie’s face tightened into a mask. She abruptly turned her focus on Noah. “Get ready for bed, please.”

  “Eight o’clock is bedtime,” Noah explained with a sigh. “It’s the rule.” He hesitated. “Will I see you again, Jesse?”

  “I hope so, Ark Man. I intend to apply for a job at Wranglers Ranch. That’s right next door, your mom says.” He smiled at the boy, but Noah was deep in thought.

  “You’re a minister,” he said quietly, then glanced up. “Like my dad was?”

  “Not anymore.” Jesse felt funny saying that, as if God had somehow rescinded the call He’d made on his life so many years ago. “For now I’m going to try being a ranch hand.” Until I figure out what God’s doing and what I’m supposed to do.

  “My dad said that when you work for God you can’t quit,” Noah said firmly. “He said that God wouldn’t let him quit. He said it was a pastor’s rule.”

  “For him, sweetie. It was a rule for him.” Maddie nudged his thin shoulder. “Now thank Jesse for showing us how to make the treats.”

  Noah obediently thanked him, but it was clear that though he left without further protest, the question of Jesse’s unemployment was not settled.

  “I should get going, too,” he said.

  “Please stay and share a cup of tea, maybe a sandwich?” Maddie stood at the counter, hands knotted as if she was nervous. Her black cap of hair gleamed under the lights. “I’m no cook, but I owe you at least that much.”

  “You don’t owe me anything. But I wouldn’t say no to a cup of tea. Or a sandwich,” he added, when his stomach complained again.

  “I can do a sandwich.” Maddie’s face looked like the sun had come out, so brilliant was her smile. She put the kettle on, then pulled open the fridge. “What would you like?”

  “Anything is fine. Thank you.” He hoped she’d offer a thick slice of roast beef with hot mustard on fresh French bread. Or maybe—

  “Is peanut butter okay?” Maddie stood in front of her fridge, clutching an almost empty jar of peanut butter, the same wimpy brand Noah preferred. “I could mix it with honey,” she offered.

  “Great.” Jesse sat at the counter and accepted the sandwich when she served it, biting into it with relish, smiling and nodding as he chewed. “It’s good.”

  “I should have made you something nice. I wish I could. You deserve it.” She sat one stool away from him, elbows propped on the counter, inhaling the steam from her tea. “Here I have this designer kitchen that most women dream of, and I’m a useless cook.”

  That sounded like something someone had called her.

  “Why don’t you take cooking lessons?” he asked, after swallowing the sticky mass. “Gran made my mom take them.”

  “Really?” Maddie looked as if she’d never heard of such a thing.

  “Sure. When my parents lived here there was a cooking school called Alberto’s Mama. That’s where my mom went to learn to cook before she had me.” He grinned. “Gran insisted it was a necessity and my dad was happy to pay when he started tasting Alberto’s Mama’s recipes. Was your husband a cook?” He pretended to ask out of idle curiosity.

  Immediately, Maddie went tense. Her fingers tightened around her cup and her cheeks lost the delightful pink that had bloomed there. “Gourmet,” she murmured.

  And that only made you feel worse.

  Jesse’s heart hurt at the wounded look on her face. “I’m sure you have talents in other areas.”

  She laughed, head thrown back, throat bare. It was the way Maddie should always laugh—full-bodied and freely expressing her emotions, Jesse thought. Not like that timid, fearful mouse he’d glimpsed a few moments ago.

  “I don’t have many talents, but I can make a pretty good quilt,” she agreed with a cheeky grin, then quickly sobered. “Though some say that’s a pointless and dying art.”

  “Since when is giving comfort pointless?” Jesse was angry that someone had so cruelly disparaged her gift. “When I was a kid I used to go with Gran to take her quilts to the cancer ward and to the homeless shelters. People loved her gifts because the quilts made them feel special and cherished, as if they mattered. That feeling is an amazing gift to give someone. It takes real talent. Cooking is just following directions.”

  Jesse hadn’t meant to sound off, but when he noticed Maddie’s spine straighten he was glad he had, now certain of his original assessment that someone hadn’t properly valued this woman. He got caught up in speculating who that was, but his thoughts were interrupted by a call from the bedroom.

  “Excuse me.” Maddie disappeared into Noah’s room with a smile, but when she emerged moments later her green eyes swirled with uneasiness.

  “Everything okay with the Ark Man?” he asked.

  “Noah’s fine.” Maddie frowned. “Why do you call him that?”

  “Ark Man?” He shrugged. “Noah seems all about formalism, rules, that kind of thing. I’ve found—I used to find,” he corrected, “—that sometimes a nickname helps break through the mask most overly responsible kids wear. I can stop if you want.”

>   “Please don’t.” There was something about Maddie now—a tightness that echoed the tension on her pretty face. “Noah likes that nickname.”

  Jesse couldn’t define the vibe he was getting, but that openness he’d so admired about her earlier had disappeared. He had the impression it had to do with him having been a minister—like her husband.

  “Noah would like to speak to you for a minute.”

  “Sure.” He walked toward the room Maddie indicated, and stepped inside, surprised by the plain simplicity of it. No superhero posters, no toys scattered around, no video games or computer. No distractions. Just one small bedside photo of a man with dark hair graying at the temples and a severe-looking face. Noah’s father, Jesse guessed. “Hey. Ready for bed, huh?”

  “Yes.” Noah lay tucked in his bed, covered to his chin in a gorgeous gray quilt with puffy, silver-white clouds delicately dotting the surface. Somehow Jesse knew Maddie had made it. “Thank you for helping my mom and me make the treats, Jesse.”

  “You’re very welcome. I hope you enjoy them.” Jesse could tell the boy wanted to ask something, so even though Maddie stood behind him, ready to escort him out, he waited.

  “Sometime...” Noah paused, glanced at his mother, then let the words spill out. “If it’s not too much trouble, could you maybe show me your tent and campfire and—everything?”

  “Sure.” There was such a longing in the boy’s request that Jesse couldn’t let it be. “We’ll make s’mores,” he promised.

  “Some mores?” Noah frowned. “What’s that?”

  “S’mores.” He grinned. “Did you like the I Have a Dream snacks?”

  “Oh, yes.” Noah licked his lips with relish.

  “Then you’ll like s’mores,” Jesse promised with a chuckle. “After I talk to the people at Wranglers and find out if I can get a job, I’ll check with your mom and we’ll set up a time for you to visit my campsite. Okay?”

  “Thank you very much.” Noah’s eyes shone.

  “You’re welcome. Good night, Ark Man.”