The Pancake Club Anthology

by Jennifer Conner

  “Well burn my bacon!” she exclaimed. “We were wondering if we’d—”

  Jennifer saw Barb’s eyes widen as she noticed Mike.

  “Oh, there is going to be a nice, juicy story about this I hope,” Barb said under her breath but loud enough for Jennifer to hear over Dolan and Chad’s greetings to Mike. The two men quickly pulled up another chair and made room for Mike.

  Any fears Jennifer had about Mike being uneasy around her friends, quickly proved an unnecessary worry as Chad broke the ice talking about Mike’s old Trans Am. It turned into a manly love-fest of horsepower and the age-old discussion about manual versus automatic transmissions. Dolan got in a few words until he managed to turn the topic to basketball and his predictions on who’d go to the finals this year. Frequent refills of coffee and two large breakfast samplers helped.

  Dolan looked at his watch, started, and gulped down a mouthful of java. “You folks will have to excuse me. I’ve got to get down to the station to check in for the day. Mike? Why don’t you and Jen come by this weekend? Tessa would love the company and I’ll toss some steaks on the grill and we’ll pop a few beers.”

  Mike spoke before Jennifer could make an excuse. “That sounds good. We’ll see you then.” He and Dolan shook hands.

  Jennifer looked over at Mike. He was either really good at making friendships or he was trying to make an effort to pick up the pieces of his life and move on. Her pride in him swelled.

  “How long are you in town for?” Barb asked.

  “Another week, maybe longer,” Mike answered between bites of corned beef hash.

  “Oops. Time for me to get moving too,” Chad said and got up, grabbing his receipt and hat. “I’ll drop in at Dolan’s place this weekend and catch up some more.”

  “Shouldn’t you have asked to be invited?” Jennifer said.

  “Nah. People are used to me crashing their parties. I wouldn’t want to disappoint. Nice meeting you.” He shook Mike’s hand as well and made his way to the front counter.

  Barb shifted in her seat.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve got someplace to go,” Jennifer said.

  “Oh no, I like to watch you squirm,” Barb grinned. “I’ve got all day if need be to shoot the bull. So, Mike, how’d you meet our little girl reporter?”

  “Well, I’m holding her car hostage,” Mike said.

  Jennifer groaned as Barb’s face split into a huge grin.

  “Do tell.”

  “That was fun,” Mike said as they made their way back out to the truck. “That Barb is a talkative one isn’t she?”

  “Oh, yes,” Jennifer agreed. “I’m sure I’ll be living this down for years to come.”

  “I’m sure you can find something equally as embarrassing. Blackmail is a time-honored tradition.”

  “Hey, yeah,” Jennifer agreed and amused herself momentarily with playful revenge schemes against her cowgirl friend. “Thanks for coming along with me this morning.”

  “I don’t mind. By this time I’m usually up to my elbows in grease so it’s a nice change.”

  “Speaking of which...do I get my car back today, monkey boy?”

  Mike grinned. “I’ll consider it. Actually, you know what? I’ll trade you your clunker for another movie and a make-out session on your couch.”

  “Michael Harrison,” Jennifer said. “While I applaud your bold approach, your bargaining prowess leaves much to be desired.”

  “I’ll bring a pizza.”

  “Take me now, you gorgeous hunk of man.”

  Jennifer really didn’t mind if people wondered why two grown adults were laughing hysterically in the parking lot.

  Jennifer gave up trying to proofread Claire’s article on the latest Rotary Club meeting. Her mind wasn’t in it. Mike occupied her waking hours and her dreams. She realized the opportunity she wasted in high school by being too scared to say anything, but that wouldn’t happen again. She’d tried to remain aloof, but he’d drawn her back in and she wanted him. Despite all her attempts to get over him, Mike couldn’t be denied.

  Except, now, Mike was a damaged man. Was this something that she could live with? She’d read up on his condition and knew what she could expect. What would she do when Mike woke up screaming in the middle of the night? Or if he had an episode when they were out eating? Or in church? Jennifer slapped her hand down against her desk and raged against her own doubts.

  This was what cost you him the first time. There would be no second-guessing herself. She wanted Mike and anything and everything that came with him. Nothing in this life was easy and you rarely got a second chance. She wouldn’t screw this up again. She reached out and hit the speed dial. “Marcy, can you give me a lift to Leroy’s?”

  As strange as it seemed, the grime and noise at the garage felt comforting. This was how it always had been, and the way it would stay until the end of her days. Jennifer realized with a start why Mike chose to work here. It was his own sanctum, a little temple to his lost youth. She spied her Honda parked out front, but she walked past it without giving it another glance.

  Larry stood up from fishing a bottle out of the vending machine and tipped his cap. “Can I help you, Ms. Defoe?”

  Jennifer smiled at him. “No thanks, Larry. I’ve come to settle up.”

  “You’ve already paid yo—” The older mechanic stopped, grinned, and gestured with his thumb toward the back of the shop. “Green pickup on the lift. I’ll get your keys and take my sweet time about it.”

  Bart’s insistent use of an air drill masked her approach and Jennifer stopped and admired Mike as he reached up and applied a wrench to something underneath the suspended truck. If she’d harbored any doubt in her heart, it disappeared. Somehow, the two of them completed each other and, no matter what life threw at them, they’d face it together.

  She loudly cleared her throat.

  Mike turned around and his face split into a wide smile.

  In the past that smile would have destroyed her but now she welcomed oblivion.

  “Hey,” he said. “What’re you doing here?”

  “I have something I need to ask you.”

  He set his wrench down and turned to face her. “What?”

  It only took her two steps to press herself up against him.

  “Hey now,” he cautioned. “I’m dirty.”

  “Don’t care,” she said and kissed him.

  She broke away after a moment and basked in the smile that spread across his face.

  “And that was a statement, not a question,” he said.

  “Fine. How about you get that truck and we go for a ride?”

  “Any place you have in mind?”

  “I think we could go look for wildflowers.”

  Saddle Up for Love

  Marilyn Conner Miles

  Chapter One

  “Have you heard anything about Doc Nick’s replacement?” Barbara, “Barb” Sessions asked as she sipped her coffee and then looked around the booth at her fellow Memories Diner Pancake Club members.

  “You’d be more likely to need his services first, with all the animals you have out at the Saddle Up,” police officer Dolan Nash replied between bites of pancake. “Or maybe Chad’s folks.”

  “Yeah, but Doc’s been so tight-lipped, for the first time in his life, I haven’t heard a word. He keeps saying to wait for his retirement party when he introduces the new vet. We don’t even know if it’s a man or a woman.” She paused to swig down the rest of her coffee, and then held up the cup. “Hey, Sami! Got any more of this stuff?” she called to the waitress, currently wiping down another table in the café. “Not that I’d care,” she added as she watched the waitress approach their table. “Can I get the check too? I’ve gotta run,” she told the harried woman.

  “Yeah, me too,” Chad said. “I told Kristin I’d take her to school.”

  “School? In July?”

  “Yes, Barb, summer school,” Chad replied patiently and gave her a look as though to say, Where have you bee
n all your life?

  Jennifer gave her a sympathetic look as she picked her purse up from the floor beside her. “Yeah, I’d better head over to the Crier office and see if Claire and Marcy have arrived yet.

  “Oh, right, summer school. Okay, guys, see ya next time.” Barb unhooked her cowboy boot heel from the chair’s rung, gathered up her check, studied it for a moment, and then tossed a couple bills onto the table. She pulled her worn denim jacket from the back of the chair, and flung it over her shoulder as she walked toward the cash register. When she reached it, she pulled a few dollars more and some change out of her jeans pocket, and placed it on the counter, then pulled a toothpick from a little container left there for patrons. She stopped and put her coat on, then walked to the front door.

  “Bye, Barb!” the hostess hollered from across the café. “See ya!”

  But Barb just nodded and gave a little wave. She really was running late and the ranch expected a large group of tourists to check in this morning. She opened the door of her unlocked Jeep Wrangler—why bother? No one would want the dusty old rust-bucket anyway—and climbed up onto the torn seat. She turned the key in the ignition with one hand and pulled her yellowed straw cowboy hat out of its overhead holder with the other. Sure, she wore her blondish hair pulled back into one long braid, but with the windows down, and without a hat, her hair would turn into a frizzy mess by the time she got there.

  She wondered about the new vet. Would he be young or old—well not retirement age, she hoped. Barb didn’t think Doc Nick would sell his mobile large animal practice to someone who only planned to stay a couple years, and then retire. She just hoped he—or maybe even she—knew more about horses than cattle. Of course she and her mother, Bobbie Jo, had a few head on their ranch, but with all the horses she cared for at the dude ranch and at home, she needed a knowledgeable horse vet. And, her mother said, it might be nice to have a new man in town. Her mom often reminded her that she wasn’t getting any younger and she’d like to have grandchildren before she got too old to spoil them. More than once in her lifetime, Barb wished she’d not been an only child.

  It had been quite awhile since she’d gone on a date. The dating pool—or corral as she thought of it—was limited in Mercy Ridge. She’d grown up with most of the thirty-something men around there and she wasn’t interested in any of them that way. And they didn’t seem to be any more interested in her. In fact, most of them were married or engaged by now. Dolan and Chad she considered her pals, anyway. And she wouldn’t date the ranch guests. The only man interested in her, Jack, was the bane of her existence. Loud-mouthed, heavy-drinking, chew-spitting, smelly Jack was the assistant wrangler at the Saddle Up. If there could be any reason not to like her job, it would be him. Otherwise, Babe loved her job. She’d worked there since she was a teen and never grew tired of it. But when Mr. Thomas had a slight stroke and his doctor ordered him to slow down, he’d hired Jack.

  Babe sighed as she pulled off the main road into the long, dusty driveway under the sign that read, Saddle Up Dude Ranch. She’d hoped to sneak in before he saw her, but there he was, jabbering—probably bragging as usual—to some poor, unsuspecting ranch guest. Oh no. He’d obviously seen the dust kicked up by her Jeep and turned her way, a big grin on his face. She sighed. What a way to start her work day.

  ****

  Dirk Adams walked into the guest house and looked around. If he could, he’d have turned around and walked back out, but Mrs. Nick stood right behind him. That would be rude and he didn’t want to offend the sweet woman. The cottage was tidy enough, but so small, and not at all what he’d expected. Even his studio apartment during his internship was twice this size at least. And of course, as a guest house, it didn’t have a stove or oven, just a hot plate and microwave. There wasn’t a washer or dryer either, so he’d have to go to the laundromat he’d passed by on his way through town—the Washerette. It looked kind of rundown on the outside, but hopefully the machines inside were in better shape. Mrs. Nick did say he could use theirs, but they’d be gone a lot and he didn’t feel comfortable going into someone else’s house when they weren’t there.

  “I hope you like it. No one has used it for awhile, since Doc’s mom moved to assisted living and the kids and their families moved so far away. That’s why we got the motor home—so we can visit all of them, you know. Of course while we’re still in town, you’ll come to our house for dinner...”

  Dirk smiled and would have protested but the woman hardly stopped to take a breath.

  “But of course, I’ve dusted and tidied up the place and added those new apple curtains to the window...”

  Dirk dutifully looked at the window over the kitchen sink and for the first time, noticed an apple theme to the place. He saw the matching rug on the old linoleum floor. Hadn’t been used in awhile, huh? That explained the old, musty smell. First thing he’d do after Mrs. Nick left, was open the windows and air the place out. Now, if he could just get her to leave him there to unpack and relax after the long drive from Seattle.

  “You said you didn’t have any furniture, so I left some of my mom’s things back in here...”

  Some kind of dark, depressing, old-fashioned wood furniture. Oh well he’d get his own place someday—if he could afford it.

  ****

  “Hey, Babe,” Jack greeted her when she drove up to the gravel parking lot near the barn.

  Barb cringed and felt her temper rise. But she needed to keep it in check in front of the guests. And she knew that Jack knew it too. She didn’t allow anyone to call her “Babe.” That had been her dad’s pet name for her until she turned thirteen and told him to stop. Now he was gone and she’d give anything to have him back. She’d even let him call her Babe again...But only him. She’d have a talk with Jack later, and it wouldn’t be pretty. For now, she tried not to let him or the guest know how much it bothered her. She forced herself to smile.

  “Good morning, Jack.” She glanced at him briefly and then turned to their guest. “And how are you sir, this fine day?” The other man smiled at her and asked a question, but before she could reply, two small children came running up to him, followed by a pretty, thirty-something woman, who carried several pamphlets in one hand and the children’s apparently discarded coats in another.

  “Daddy! Daddy! When do we get to ride a horsey?” the little dark-headed girl asked her father, as she pulled on his arm.

  “I don’t know. Pretty soon, I’m sure, baby, but you interrupted before I could find out.” He smiled indulgently at his daughter.

  Barb knelt down in front of the little girl and her brother. “Hi, my name is Barb, and I’m your wrangler. Do you know what a wrangler is?” she asked them. The children shook their heads. “I lead the trail rides, teach riding lessons, and take care of the horses.”

  The little girl’s eyes got big. Obviously, she was the horse lover of the two. More little girls seemed to love horses than little boys. This one wore pink cowboy boots and there were horses on her pink shirt. “I love horses!” she exclaimed. “Do you have a horse?” When Barb nodded, she looked at her with awe.

  “Okay kids,” the dad said. “We need to get settled in our cabin first, and then we can come back outside and check out the rest of the activities here.” He put his arm around his son and his wife took their daughter by the hand, and they walked away amid protests.

  “Dad, you told me there’d be fishing,” Barb heard the boy say.

  “But I wanna go see the horses now,” the girl told her mother, digging in her heels. Barb could only see their backs as they walked away, but she could hear the whine in the children’s voices. Much as she enjoyed the kids, at times like these, she didn’t envy their parents. She’d thought she wanted a family of her own someday, and dreamed of teaching her own young ones to ride, but maybe being single wasn’t so bad after all.

  Later that morning, Barb and Jack saddled the horses for the first ride of the day. As she waited in the corral for the first-timers to show up for their rid
ing lesson, Jack leaned against the rounded top rail of the fence. “Looks like a whole passel of kids today,” he commented, a wad of chew in his mouth. “I don’t envy you none.”

  “I’d rather work with crying eight-year-olds any day than an adult. At that age they pay attention and listen. Usually they love horses but are scared. The kids try my patience, but watching them advance has its compensations. These are the ones who will grow up and get a horse of their own someday, or bring their families when they’re grown. The toughest is teaching an adult who never rode until middle-age,” she snapped back. He needed to learn a little more patience with the kids. At least he was good with the adults—women in particular.

  “Whoa.” Jack held up his hands as though to fend her off. He worked the wad of tobacco around to the other side of his mouth, a sign Barb recognized.

  “Could you please go spit that disgusting stuff somewhere else? I see the kids headed over here with their parents.”

  “Yes boss.” Jack winked and walked away, to her relief. She blew out a breath, glad he’d left, but then a shadow on the ground made her glance up and frown. It looked like thunderclouds brewing overhead. She hoped not. After a wet June, July was turning out to be hot and dry. Thunderclouds meant thunder and often lightning. And along with the lightning came the chance of wildfires.

  “Miss? Which horse is mine?” A child’s voice captured her attention and she looked down, put on a smile and walked over to show her.

  Chapter Two

  Though the Memories Diner served only breakfast and lunch, the owner rented out the restaurant for special occasions in the evenings. Doc’s retirement and Dirk’s “welcome to the community” party was scheduled for that Saturday evening. In the morning, he and Doc got called out on an emergency. Part of the deal when he purchased the practice was that Doc would show Dirk the ropes before he retired. It was all fine and dandy, Dirk thought, to meet the clients in a casual setting like the party, but he’d really get to know them during a crisis.