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Skyler's Wanna-Be Wife

Page 13

by Liz Isaacson


  Evelyn wrapped her in a hug, and Callie came over and did the same from the back. “I’m sorry,” Simone said. “I don’t mean to be a baby.”

  “Cry away,” Evelyn said. “It’s fine.”

  Several seconds later, the sisters backed up, and Simone swiped at her eyes. “I just need to meet someone else,” she said. “He did. If he did, I can too.”

  “Okay,” Evelyn said, carrying her plate to the table. “Let’s start with a wishlist.”

  “You’re going to do it?” Callie asked, joining her.

  Simone sliced herself a piece of cake and sat down with them.

  “I have the skills,” Evelyn said. “They might be a bit rusty, but I think they’re still there. And who better to use them with?” She beamed at Simone. “So start with your absolute must-haves, and we’ll go from there.”

  A giddy excitement filled Simone, something she hadn’t experienced for a while. She thought for a few moments, trying to gather her thoughts. “I like a man in a cowboy hat.” She went on to describe her perfect man, and Evelyn took notes on her phone while she scooped up sour cream, guacamole, and salsa with her beef-topped chips.

  Twenty minutes later, with their plates empty and their stomachs full, the sisters moved over to the couch.

  “Okay,” Evelyn said, setting her coffee cup on the side table. “I think I can work with this. Give me a week or so to come up with some names, and we’ll meet to talk about who we want to approach.”

  “Okay,” Simone said. Her spirits weren’t hovering on the floor anymore, and as Callie put on a movie they’d all seen a thousand times, she felt like she gotten her sisters back. She had found one piece of her life before the Walkers had bought Seven Sons and moved in, and it sure felt good to have even a couple of hours of peace and calm again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Skyler pulled up to Wyatt’s house and peered at the upper level of windows. He still didn’t know what was in that first bedroom off the loft, but he’d only been living in the house for a couple of days.

  “And not forever,” he told himself.

  What else are you hiding? rang in his ears, as it had been since Marcy had accidentally told Mal Skyler actually owned the whole building where they’d been living on the top floor.

  “I honestly didn’t even think of telling you,” he’d told Mal. “I wasn’t specifically hiding it.”

  He had not gone back to Dr. Haskell, but her words had been gonging in his ears for days too.

  No, Mal had not specifically asked, “Skyler, do you own this building?”

  So he hadn’t told her. He hadn’t deliberately hidden it from her. He honestly hadn’t thought about it. He’d bought the building a few years ago, and all the rent was paid through a management company. He didn’t show any apartments, and he didn’t even know everyone who lived there.

  He made money on their rent, sure. He owned real estate in downtown Amarillo, because it held its value really well. And in fact, last time he’d checked with his real estate agent, he could make almost half a million dollars if he sold the building now. He knew that was because he’d invested almost a hundred grand into the building, including the management service and improving the amenities.

  An on-site gym and pool was important to him, and apparently, to other tenants.

  Though he’d spoken to Jeremiah and Micah about living out at Seven Sons, he hadn’t exactly discussed it with Mal.

  “Your wife,” he muttered again, wondering why he was feeling so negative about the situation today. He’d told her he was falling in love with her weeks ago. Mal had said the same to him.

  He hadn’t lied then.

  He did love coming home to her. He liked that she was the first person he wanted to tell about the conversation with Micah and Jeremiah. He wanted to take her out to the ranch and show her the field where their house would eventually stand.

  They’d talked about moving to Three Rivers permanently. She hadn’t wanted to, but in the end, she knew that was the goal. She’d agreed to come so Skyler could help with Wyatt.

  “So just go tell her,” he told himself. He also needed to get another appointment with Dr. Haskell, because he didn’t want to live his life in fear of what Mal might discover next about him.

  But it was Saturday, and the office wouldn’t be open today. So he got out of the car, the scent of something sugary and something browning hanging in the air. Mal was in the kitchen again, and Skyler’s spirits lifted as he went down the sidewalk and up the steps to the front door. Wyatt had said he could park in the RV bay and come in the back door, but Skyler usually forgot, as he had today.

  “Hello,” he called as he walked in. Wyatt and Marcy had left for the weekend—their last one before Wyatt’s surgery—for a quick getaway to the Gulf Coast in Florida. Wyatt claimed to have a bit of their mother’s beach blood in him, and Skyler didn’t understand it. In that regard, he was exactly like his father. Give him a big, Texas sky, a thunderstorm, and a pasture full of horses, and he was happy.

  And a problem to fix, he added, which was why he’d loved running the mechanic shop so much. It was also why numbers and finances had interested him. As he rounded the corner and the expansive kitchen spread before him, another problem he needed to fix appeared in front of him.

  “Hey, sweetheart.” Seeing her in the kitchen, that bright pink apron cinched around her waist, did make Skyler unreasonably happy. Only a bit of tension stretched in his smile, and she grinned back at him. So things between them weren’t completely broken.

  “Hey, come try this.” She picked up a spoon and scooped up what looked like peach pie filling.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m making peach empanadas, and I couldn’t find Mami’s recipe. So I’m doing it from memory.”

  “What am I looking for?” He came to stand beside her in the kitchen.

  “Just taste, and tell me what you think.” She held the spoon as if she’d feed him, so Skyler opened his mouth and let her.

  Soft, sweet peaches, with sugar and lemon and cinnamon, burst to life in his mouth. His automatic response was the same as every other time he’d tasted Mal’s cooking—a groan way down deep in his gut.

  “That’s great,” he said around the fruit.

  “Is it too lemony?”

  “Nope.”

  “Too much cinnamon?”

  “Nope.”

  Mal looked down into the bowl, clearly not satisfied with the answers he gave.

  “It’s great,” he said. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you should apply to work at the bakery.” He watched her, but Mal kept frowning at the peaches like they were trying to pull the wool over her eyes. “I’ll take some to Heidi Ackerman. See what she thinks.”

  That got Mal to look up, her eyes wide. “You can’t just take someone else’s baked goods into a bakery.”

  “You can if you’re applying for a job,” Skyler said.

  Mal just gaped at him, and in the next moment, the timer on the oven shrieked that whatever was inside was done. She turned away from him, collected the oven mitts, and pulled open the top oven. “Here’s the first batch. I guess we’ll know about the peaches when we taste these.”

  Skyler had never had an empanada before, and when he told Mal, she said, “They’re hand pies. Street desserts.” She put a spoonful of powdered sugar in the tiniest sieve Skyler had ever seen, carefully dusting the hot empanadas. “You can serve them with an icing, or without. They usually don’t have anything, because you eat them as you walk. Less mess.”

  His mouth watered, and he wanted to taste one right now. She transferred the eight on the tray to a cooling rack and started rolling more dough. He retreated to the other side of the island and sat down to watch her work, the muscles in her arms impressive as she formed a flat disc of dough into a beautiful pie, with the peaches between the thin layers of dough. When eight more were ready and formed, she slid the tray into the oven.

  “Want to try?”

  “Yes,
please,” he said.

  She put one on a plate and slid it toward him. “I just pick it up?”

  “That’s right.” She’d already picked one up, and she took a bite as Skyler watched. She gave no indication of how it was though, and he took his own bite.

  The crust wasn’t too sweet, because the peaches were. It was light and flaky, and exactly the right ratio between bread and filling, and Skyler enjoyed every last bite before he said, “Those are dynamite.”

  “Dynamite.” Mal shook her head, but her grin sure was pretty to look at.

  Skyler had spent the morning at the ranch, first meeting with Micah and Jeremiah and then horseback riding. He had no plans for the rest of the day, and he had the thought that he better enjoy such a luxury while he could.

  Wyatt wasn’t a terribly difficult man, but anyone in a lot of pain, with limited mobility, wouldn’t be pleasant to be around.

  “Want to go to a movie today?” he asked Mal. “I could call Tripp and see what he’s doing.”

  “Sure,” Mal said. He left her in the kitchen and took up a spot on the couch while he started texting. But Tripp and Liam were already together, their families having gone to the mall and then lunch, and they couldn’t do anything that night.

  My wife has girl’s night, Liam said.

  Oliver has a school thing, Tripp said.

  Skyler tapped out, Okay, no problem. Another time, and left it at that. He couldn’t be upset his brothers had lives and couldn’t drop everything to spend time with him on a weekend. It wasn’t personal, he knew that.

  He knew it, but somehow, it still felt like a pinch against his heart.

  “That’s it,” she said. “Twenty-four big ones, and I made several little bites you can take to the bakery.” Mal sat on the couch beside him, and Skyler automatically lifted his arm so she could curl into his side. But when she did…Skyler felt like he was coming home.

  “That’s great, Mal,” he said. “The twins are busy today.”

  “Okay.” She wasn’t upset by it, but Skyler wasn’t sure he could just lay around all day.

  “The sun is out,” he said. “What do you want to do?”

  “I didn’t sleep well last night,” she said. “Maybe I can take a nap, and then we can go to that movie you suggested?” She looked up at him, and Skyler fell, fell, fell.

  “Thanks for coming to Three Rivers with me,” he said.

  Surprise danced through Mal’s eyes, as he’d rapidly changed the subject. “Yeah, of course.”

  “I went out to the ranch this morning and talked to Jeremiah about building a house for us out there.”

  That surprise increased as Mal searched his face. “So we won’t go back to Amarillo?”

  “We can, sure,” he said. “We have the apartment there. It can be like a getaway when we need it. Or we’ll live there sometimes and here sometimes.”

  “Two houses.”

  “Lots of people have two houses,” Skyler said lightly.

  Mal laughed, the sound truly happy. “No, Skyler, I don’t think they do.”

  “Well, we do,” he said. “We will. It’s not a big deal.” At least he didn’t want it to be a big deal.

  “My life is just…I can hardly believe it,” Mal said. “I mean, three months ago, I’d just taken a second job so I could get my car fixed.”

  Skyler thought for a few seconds. “It’s definitely different now.”

  “It’s not even close to the same,” she said. “It’s night-and-day different.”

  “And why do you think that is?” Skyler asked.

  “Why is my life different? That’s easy. It’s different because of you.”

  “No, I don’t think so,” he said slowly, his mind really whirring now. They’d been going to church every week, and this week, they’d go to the same little white brick building where his brothers went. His parents. The whole Walker clan.

  “I think it’s different because God needed it to be different.”

  “What do you mean?” Mal asked.

  “I think….” Skyler swallowed, hoping this didn’t sound utterly ridiculous. “God knew I needed a purpose for my life. And he put me in your life to help.” He realized how that sounded, and he knew Mal wouldn’t like it.

  Sure enough, she said, “I’m not a project.”

  “I know that, Mal. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant, the Lord knows I have money. He knows you don’t. He knows my heart, and he knows yours, and I think He put us in each other’s lives for a reason.”

  He looked down at her, desperate for her to understand. “And one of the reasons for me is so that I can feel like I’m doing something good. I haven’t felt like that for a long, long time.”

  “What’s another reason?” she asked, gazing up at him with those soft, chocolatey eyes.

  “To bring me back to Three Rivers.” He didn’t particularly enjoy saying so, but he knew he needed to be here. “I know I’m supposed to be here,” he said out loud, just to give weight and power to the prompting.

  “Yeah, I know that too,” Mal said with a sigh. “I’m still working on coming to terms with it, but I know it.”

  “And I think God knew I needed a good, kind, beautiful woman to show me that I’m….” He cleared his throat. “Worth loving.” He looked at Mal again, and she kissed him, her mouth sweet and firm against his.

  He kissed her back, his arms going all the way around her. As he kissed his wife, he knew he was in love with her, and he was fairly certain she loved him too. He’d said he was falling before, but he knew he’d arrived.

  “I love you, Mal,” he whispered against her lips.

  And the best words in the world were, “I love you too, Sky.”

  Skyler lay in bed and watched his wife sleep. He wanted her to have a nap if she needed one—or even if she just wanted one. He didn’t know everything about Mal’s life, but at this point, he knew a lot. And he knew her life had not been easy, not in Mexico, and not once she’d come to the US.

  Somehow, without speaking, they’d agreed to take their relationship to the next level, and Skyler hadn’t known how beautiful a marriage relationship could be until he’d made love to Mal. Now, it seemed that love covered his entire heart and soul with a warm blanket, and he didn’t dare move for fear of breaking it.

  He wasn’t tired, and he didn’t want to wake Mal, so he showered quickly and went back downstairs. Her mini peach empanadas sat on the cooling rack, the beautiful white snow of powdered sugar along the tops of them.

  He carefully put all sixteen empanadas in a plastic container and went out to his truck. Perhaps the right person wouldn’t even be at the bakery. It wasn’t like Skyler knew who to talk to about a job for Mal. But he wasn’t afraid to ask questions, and he knew Mal would love something to occupy her time here in Three Rivers.

  She was a good worker, and she didn’t like to sit idle and do nothing.

  The drive to town happened quickly, and before Skyler knew it, he’d stepped into the warm interior of the bakery. In the middle of the afternoon, it wasn’t terribly busy, and a short, silver-haired woman sat at one of the tables while several other customers had formed a line.

  He held the plastic container with Mal’s creations in it, wondering if he should join the line or try to get the attention of someone behind the counter first.

  “Can I help you?” the woman asked, and he turned to find her standing. She wore a warm smile and a T-shirt that had the bakery’s logo across the front of it. “You look like a Walker, and I haven’t seen you around before, so I’m guessing you’re the brother who’s off at college in Amarillo.”

  She smiled at him with all the charm and warmth that his mother would, and Skyler felt safe in her care. He didn’t even mind that she seemed to know his business, a fact that would’ve normally annoyed him.

  “That’s right, ma’am,” he said, reaching up to touch the brim of his cowboy hat. “I’m Skyler Walker.” He glanced at the counter and back to her. “My wife and I just
moved back here to help my brother with his back surgery.”

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “We’ve had Wyatt in our prayers for a few weeks now.”

  Surprise darted through Skyler, though he wasn’t sure why. Small towns were a hotbed for gossip, especially if people attended the same church.

  “I’m mighty thankful for that,” Skyler said with a smile. See, Wyatt wasn’t the only person who could turn on the charm when necessary. “My wife is an excellent baker, and I wanted to bring in some of her peach empanadas for the manager…or someone to taste.”

  “Ooh, empanadas,” the woman said. “I can never get that dough just right.” Her eyes dropped to the container in his hands.

  “Do you work here?” he asked.

  “Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry,” she said with a laugh. “Yes, I own this bakery, Mister Walker. I’m Heidi Ackerman.”

  Joy and gratitude filled his heart, and Skyler put a big smile on his face. “Perfect.” He extended the container toward her. “My wife’s name is Mal, and she’s from Mexico. She makes authentic Mexican desserts.”

  Heidi plucked a peach empanada from the container and took a bite. Skyler knew the moment she tasted the treat how much she liked it. “Oh, dear,” she said once she’d swallowed, immediately taking another bite.

  “Right?” Skyler tilted the container toward her as she put the third and last bite of the empanada in her mouth. “Another one?”

  “You know what? Let’s hand them out as samples and see what the customers think.”

  “Deal.” Skyler turned toward the door as someone opened it.

  “You go on now, Mister Walker. I’ll take notes.” Heidi smiled at him encouragingly, and Skyler didn’t waste another moment.

  He stepped over to the couple who’d just come in and said, “We have peach empanada samples today. Would you like one?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mal woke on Monday morning, a heaviness in her stomach she hadn’t felt before. Nerves, for sure, because Wyatt was going in for surgery that morning.

 

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