First and Again

by Jana Richards

  “Yes, of course.” Bridget picked up the small briefcase she’d borrowed from her mother and took out the menus she had prepared.

  While Gladys poured them coffee, Bridget went over her meal choices. At one time dealing with clients and helping them select a menu for their event had been effortless for her. But now she clasped her hands together to stop their trembling as she began her presentation. “I’ve got two alternatives, at two different price points. Both consist of a beef dish and a vegetarian dish, with several side dishes.” She listed her choices: a creamy beef stroganoff fit for a crisp fall day, and a tomato onion quiche for the vegetarian dish. As a lighter alternative, they could serve a roast beef salad and a borscht soup. Each menu plan would be served with fresh breads and assorted salads.

  “I thought maybe we’d have a fish dish,” Jack said. “I find Europeans often enjoy seafood. Maybe a nice salmon.”

  Bridget felt her face drain of color. The bottom dropped out of her stomach. Oh God no, anything but that.

  Her stomach threatened to revolt at the thought of cooking fish again. The last time she’d been responsible for a fish dinner, someone almost died. She looked at her menus, avoiding his eyes.

  “I’d rather not,” she said. Her hands shook as she pretended to look through her notes. “It would be difficult to get a good fresh salmon here.”

  He shrugged. “Okay, you’re the chef. Whatever works for you.”

  She nodded and breathed a sigh of relief.

  He turned to his housekeeper. “What do you think, Gladys? The food all looks good to me.”

  “I like the stroganoff dish and the quiche. It sounds like good hearty food to me.”

  “Sounds good to me too. So everything’s decided then?” he said. “We still have two weeks to make changes if we need to.”

  Bridget’s stomach knotted painfully at the thought of the dinner being so close. Could she do it without falling on her face, both literally and figuratively?

  Or without making someone else ill?

  Something must have shown on her face because Jack narrowed his eyes at her.

  “Are you okay?”

  She forced a smile. “Yes, of course. I’ll do a good job for you, Jack, I promise. I know how important this luncheon is to your business.”

  “Yes, it’s important, mainly because if we pull it off it’ll mean I can employ more people at the ranch. I don’t want someone to have to move away to find work like I did.”

  Guilt flooded through her. He’d been forced to move to Texas to find work after high school. And while he was gone, she’d left for California to go to culinary school, even though he’d begged her to stay.

  “I’ll do my best, Jack, I swear. You’ve already done so much to help Rebecca—”

  “I’ve never doubted you would do an excellent job.”

  He said the words with such complete confidence that a wave of relief rushed through her. Maybe everything would be okay.

  He laid his hand on hers and gave her one of his crooked smiles. “Don’t worry. You’ll do fine. And if you need to run screaming from the kitchen, feel free. We’ve got plenty of space here.”

  Her stomach knotted again, but this time not with fear. A delicious awareness warmed her from the inside out, surprising her with its strength. Images of kissing Jack flitted through her memory. He’d been the first boy she’d ever kissed, and she remembered the softness of his lips, the tenderness of his touch. He’d also been the first man she’d ever slept with. The bittersweet memory of the first, and only, time they had made love, caused her body to tighten in remembrance.

  She pulled her hand from his, shocked by her body’s reaction to his touch. Her face flamed with embarrassment.

  Was she so starved for sex that an innocent touch sent her up in flames, or was it only Jack’s touch that set her on fire?

  Either scenario was ridiculous. Her life was already far too complicated.

  * * *

  Early the following Saturday morning, Bridget drove Rebecca to Jack’s ranch for another riding lesson. Rebecca fidgeted in her seat on the short drive, clearly excited to get to the ranch and her beloved pony.

  “I brought some carrots for Candy,” she said with a wide smile. “She’s crazy for them. Grandma said it was okay to take them from the fridge.”

  She gave her daughter a quick grin before turning her attention back to her driving. The change in Rebecca in the last couple of weeks had been nothing short of remarkable.

  “That horse is going to turn into a blimp the way you feed her,” she teased. “We’ll have to send her to a fat farm for portly ponies soon.”

  “Oh, Mom.”

  Rebecca rolled her eyes at her feeble joke, but her defiant gesture was softened by a giggle. It was so good to see that look of joy in her eyes once more.

  She had Jack Davison to thank for that.

  They pulled into the yard and Rebecca jumped from the car as soon as they came to a stop, grabbing her backpack with its precious cargo of carrots before she left. Bridget watched her run off toward the barns, eager to see Candy.

  She was about to pull out of yard when she saw Gladys wave at her from the deck. She turned off the ignition and opened her car door.

  “Do you have time for a cup of coffee?” Gladys called.

  She didn’t respond immediately. After the way she’d reacted to Jack’s touch the other day she was hesitant to see him again so soon. She took a deep breath and told herself she was being ridiculous. It wasn’t like she couldn’t control herself around him. Besides, she couldn’t avoid Jack forever.

  She got out of her car and slammed the door, her decision made. “I’d love some coffee.”

  Gladys beamed. “Lovely! Let’s go put on a fresh pot, shall we?”

  She followed her into the kitchen and watched as the older woman puttered with the coffeemaker. Soon the fragrant scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the delicious aroma of homemade soup and fresh baked bread.

  “I thought you didn’t work weekends,” Bridget said when Gladys set a steaming cup of coffee in front of her.

  “I don’t normally, but since I’m going to be away for several days when my daughter gets married, I thought I’d spend a few extra hours this morning putting together some dishes and freezing them. That way Jack can pop them in the oven. I’m just waiting for my bread to finish.”

  “It smells fantastic. Jack’s very lucky to have you.”

  Gladys waved her hand. “It’s me who’s lucky. Jack treats me like gold and sometimes I think he pays me much more than I’m worth.”

  She laughed. “I’m sure Jack is well aware that you’re worth every penny he pays you. I used to employ several people in my kitchen and I can tell you, good help is hard to find.”

  “It sounds like you had quite a large catering company,” Gladys said. “How many people did you employ?”

  “At our peak, about twenty-five, including servers.” She’d worried about the size of the company long before it collapsed. Supervising so many people while still maintaining a high quality of food and service had proved difficult, but Ben was determined to be the biggest catering firm in the city, if not the best. And he could always cajole and bully her into doing whatever he wanted.

  Thinking back to those days was still painful. She steered the conversation toward more mundane topics.

  A few moments later, Jack entered the kitchen. He sent her a welcoming smile, and Bridget’s heart accelerated in response. His faded jeans rode low on his narrow hips, hugging his powerful thighs. She’d always loved the sandy-blond color of his hair and the way it curled around the nape of his neck. She clenched her hand in a fist, as if doing so would keep her fingers from reaching to touch the remembered softness of his hair. A hot flush of embarrassment rose up her neck. If she was going to work for him, she had to get over this.

  He helped himself to coffee. “Are you joining us for lunch, Bridget? You’re always welcome, you know.”

/>   She jumped to her feet and grabbed her purse. “Thank you, but no. I was just having coffee with Gladys. I’ll pick up Rebecca at about three o’clock. Is that okay?”

  “Sure. Three will be fine.”

  He turned away to stir sugar into his coffee but not before Bridget saw something that looked like disappointment flicker in his eyes. Surely he wasn’t disappointed that she was leaving?

  Before she could analyze that thought, Jack’s mother entered the kitchen with Leslie and Rebecca. Leslie held both their hands.

  “I’m sorry to cut Leslie’s riding lesson short today, but I’ve got to be going,” Jane said. “I’ve got an appointment in Bismarck today.”

  “Okay, Mom. We’ll see you in a day or two. Drive carefully.” Jack kissed his mother goodbye and with a wave she left.

  “Jack, can we still go for a ride around the farm this afternoon? Last week you said that if the weather was good you’d take me with you when you checked the fences.”

  “Yeah sure, Becky. We can go right after lunch.”

  “Oh Jack, I’m sorry,” Gladys said. “I can’t stay with Leslie this afternoon. My daughter’s wedding shower is today, remember?”

  “Oh right, I forgot.” He turned to Rebecca. “I’m sorry, Becky. I guess the fences will have to wait for another day.”

  Rebecca nodded. “That’s okay.”

  Though her daughter tried to put on a brave face, Bridget could feel her disappointment. How many times had Ben promised to spend time with her, only to cancel at the last minute? This time she wouldn’t let her down.

  “I can stay with Leslie this afternoon,” she said with a smile. “Would that be okay with you, Leslie?”

  She grinned. “Yes!”

  Bridget smiled brightly at Jack, although she had no idea what she would do with the girl all afternoon. “Okay with you, Jack?”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to put you to any trouble.” His mouth turned down in a frown, and three vertical lines of worry formed on his brow.

  She raised an eyebrow at him. His lack of enthusiasm about her spending time with his daughter surprised her. Didn’t he trust her? What did he think she was going to do with her while he was gone? Sell one of her kidneys?

  “Yes, of course I’m sure.” She’d do anything to keep the smile on Rebecca’s face, and besides, Leslie seemed like a sweet kid.

  “All right. I guess it would be okay.” He didn’t seem happy about the idea.

  She ignored him, turning to his daughter instead. “What would you like to do this afternoon?”

  “Bake cookies!” Leslie clapped her hands in excitement.

  Gladys laughed. “You and your cookies, my girl! Go show Bridget your recipe.”

  She ran to a drawer in the kitchen with an excited squeal.

  Gladys turned to Bridget. “Leslie and I make cookies at least once a week. It’s always the same, oatmeal raisin. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.” She was relieved to have an activity for them to do together, something they both felt comfortable with.

  “You won’t let her put the cookies in the oven by herself?” Jack said. It was more of a command than a question. “She could easily burn herself.”

  His lack of faith in her common sense annoyed her. She trusted him with her daughter. Why couldn’t he trust her with his?

  A biting retort hovered on the tip of her tongue, but she clamped her mouth shut when she saw the look on his face. He was genuinely worried. Worry for a child she could understand, even if it seemed unwarranted to her in this case. She really had no idea what he faced as a single parent with a special needs child.

  “I will put the cookies in the oven myself, and make sure Leslie doesn’t touch any part of the stove.”

  Jack seemed mollified by her promise. He nodded to Rebecca. “In that case, I guess you and I can ride fences after lunch.”

  Rebecca beamed with happiness, her eyes shining. She gave him a high five.

  “All right!”

  When they’d finished a lunch of sandwiches and Gladys’s homemade vegetable soup, Jack and Rebecca left to get the horses ready for their ride. Rebecca practically skipped alongside him as they headed to the barn. A few minutes later Bridget shooed Gladys out the door, assuring her that she would do the dishes. After some initial fussing, she left to go to her daughter’s bridal shower.

  Bridget began loading the lunch dishes into the dishwasher. Leslie brought over two glasses.

  “Gladys showed me how to put these in the machine,” she said. She placed them upside down on the top rack.

  “Good job! Do you help Gladys load the dishwasher everyday?”

  For the first time the girl frowned. “Sometimes Gladys lets me help if Daddy’s not home.”

  She didn’t know what to make of that statement. She doubted Gladys would be violating any child labor laws by having Leslie load the dishwasher. Why would she only do it when Jack wasn’t around? Maybe she’d misunderstood. Leslie had a speech impediment that sometimes made her difficult to understand.

  She rinsed a dishcloth under the tap and after squeezing out the excess handed it to Leslie. “Why don’t you wipe the table?”

  She looked at the cloth as if she’d never seen one before. Bridget realized suddenly that she probably hadn’t.

  She grabbed another cloth and quickly rinsed it under the tap. “Let’s wipe the table together.”

  Leslie imitated as best she could while Bridget swabbed the table with her cloth. When they finished she tossed the cloths into the sink.

  “Well, now that you’ve finished cleaning up, are you ready to make cookies?”

  She grinned and Bridget couldn’t help but grin back. The little girl’s smile was positively infectious. She must have gotten that from her daddy.

  “Yes, yes, yes!”

  She wished she could get Rebecca this excited about cooking. “Okay then. Do you know what the first rule of the kitchen is?”

  A worried look spread across Leslie’s face, as if she were afraid Bridget might take away the privilege of baking if she didn’t know the answer. She shook her head in misery. Bridget gave the girl a quick hug.

  “Don’t worry, sweetie. The first rule of the kitchen is that you always wash your hands before you cook. Can you do that?”

  Leslie nodded enthusiastically and Bridget smiled. “I knew you could. Let’s go wash our hands together.”

  She held out her hand and without a moment’s hesitation Leslie took it. It humbled her that she trusted her so completely and so quickly. For the first time she understood a bit of Jack’s hesitation in letting the girl stay with her. She was such a sweet, trusting child. Anyone who wanted to deliberately hurt her would have no trouble gaining her trust and getting her to do whatever he wanted.

  A short time later, the cookie dough was assembled. A bit of egg yolk sloshed onto the counter and some flour hit the floor, but it seemed a small price to pay for something that made Leslie so happy.

  After helping her drop spoonfuls of dough onto the cookie sheets, Bridget slid the pans into the preheated oven.

  “Remember, Leslie, your dad doesn’t want you to touch the oven.”

  “Daddy thinks I’m stupid.”

  She stared at the child. “No honey, your dad doesn’t think that at all.”

  “Yes he does. He doesn’t think I can I can ride my pony myself. He doesn’t think I can do anything.”

  She spoke without emotion, as if she were just stating facts. Bridget could only shake her head in denial. Leslie must have somehow misunderstood. The Jack she knew would never make his child feel less than perfect.

  “You don’t think you’re stupid, do you, sweetie?”

  The girl shrugged, her slightly crossed eyes staring at a point over Bridget’s shoulder. She laid a hand on Leslie’s cheek and made her look into her eyes.

  “You showed me today how many things you can do. You wiped the table, you showed me where everything is in the kitchen and you made t
he cookies. And I’ll bet you learned one more thing today.”

  “What?”

  “What’s the first rule of the kitchen?”

  Leslie giggled. “Wash your hands!”

  She laughed. There was so much joy in this child. She made her remember the simple pleasure she used to take in cooking.

  “Come on, let’s wash up our dishes.”

  Leslie pushed a chair toward the counter, kneeling on the seat to reach the sink. Bridget helped her fill the sink with water.

  “Can I ride my pony by myself?”

  The question took her aback, coming out of the blue the way it had. “I don’t know. What does your daddy say?”

  Leslie frowned as she washed some utensils. “He says somebody has to lead my pony and somebody has to hold on to me so I don’t fall from the saddle.”

  She knew nothing about horses and as much as she wanted to help Leslie, she had to respect Jack’s decision on this one.

  “You need to do what your daddy says, sweetie. He doesn’t want you to get hurt. Maybe someday when you get older you can ride on your own.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Sure.” She put an arm around Leslie and squeezed her shoulder. “Someday when you’re a big girl you’ll be able to do lots of things. You’ll even ride your horse all by yourself.”

  Just as they put away the last of the dishes, Jack and Rebecca breezed in through the back door, the scent of horses and the outdoors coming in with them. Leslie ran to Jack and hugged him around his waist. The raw love she saw on his face made a lump form in Bridget’s throat. Along with the love, she thought she detected a sliver of sadness as well, and she wondered at the reason for it.

  “Daddy, we made cookies! Bridget said we can have cookies and milk now.”

  “That sounds good, Sunshine,” he said, bending over to kiss the top of her head. “You didn’t touch the stove, did you?”

  She shook her head and he seemed to relax. Bridget wondered at his overprotectiveness toward his daughter. Leslie might have Down syndrome but she wasn’t helpless, and she certainly wasn’t incapable of learning.