A Cowboy in the Kitchen

by Meg Maxwell

  He took a long slug of his coffee. “Thanks. I needed that.” One more long swallow and he put the mug down. “And now that staffing has been increased, you can be home to greet Lucy off the bus at three-twenty, and I won’t need to rely on Dottie, Lucy’s sitter, so much.”

  She stirred extra cream and sugar into her own mug. “Okay, so I’ll meet Lucy at the bus stop at three-twenty and then my focus will be on her—homework, snack, playing, making dinner, bath, getting her ready for bedtime, laying out clothes for the next school day.”

  He nodded. “And dealing with the Dunkins, starting tomorrow night at dinner at their house. They’re keeping Lucy until then. Their wedding present to us, Raina said.”

  He glanced at her—uneasily, Annabel thought. They’d be alone again tonight.

  Annabel had been hoping to get started on learning how to be a stepmother right away. And yes, having a little girl in the house would have given Annabel something to do, something to focus on. Now all she had in her head was how tonight was going to work, the elephant in the middle of the room again, aka West’s bed. Their bed.

  “I suppose we should act like newlyweds when we’re at the Dunkins’,” Annabel said. “Instead of almost strangers.”

  “We’re hardly strangers. I’ve seen you naked.” He slid a smile at her, and she could tell he was trying to diffuse the tension, not just between them but about the show they’d have to put on for Lucy’s grandparents.

  She felt her cheeks redden. “What if they can tell... I mean, that we’re faking it?”

  He took her hand and held it. “I thought about that. And you know what? I’m not faking how grateful I am to you for saving my life. How much I appreciate what you’ve given up to do this.”

  Annabel looked at him, confused. “What have I given up?”

  He released her hand to pick up his mug. “A relationship with someone you want to be with. Like I said last night, I know I’m not high on your favorite-people list.”

  Now wasn’t the time or place to bring up seven years ago again, why he’d really dumped her for Lorna. Fine, he thought he was taking advantage of her so he’d called a halt to what was going on between them in the hayloft. But that didn’t explain continuing it with Lorna Dunkin the next day, in the very spot she’d found him crying, where they’d spoken for the first time, where the guy she’d secretly loved for years had let her hug him at the news that his older brother had died overseas, the IED also destroying his parents, their family.

  She let out a breath. “I admire how far you’re willing to go to keep your daughter. That you care about her that much says quite a lot.”

  He looked at her for a long moment, then nodded. “So we like each other,” he finally said. “We admire things about the other. The Dunkins won’t have reason to think we’re not a very happily married couple. No one expects us to start groping each other at dinner with grandparents at the table.”

  She laughed. “I suppose not.”

  “So we’ll be fine.”

  Ha. She’d have to get through tonight first.

  It was only five o’clock. How to pass the next six or so hours?

  * * *

  It took West a while to catch on, but he finally realized that Annabel had been using stalling tactics all night to avoid their bedroom. She’d cleaned the kitchen until it shone, then brought up cleaning supplies to Lucy’s bathroom and spent a good twenty minutes scraping goop off the cap of her bubble-fruit toothpaste. Then she straightened the books on the living room bookshelves, politely smiling with a nod every time he passed through the room she was in.

  At just after one, when he came in from checking on a calf who’d been having problems with his hind leg, West found Annabel fast asleep on the couch, the book How to Talk So Kids Will Listen facedown on her stomach, and a feather duster under her hand.

  He gently scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom, trying to avoid smelling the light perfume she always wore. How could someone who’d scrubbed rooms for the past few hours look and smell so incredibly sexy?

  He laid her down in the bed and spread a blanket over her, wanting to lie down beside her. But given that they were alone, there was no good reason for him to sleep next to her.

  He thought about what tomorrow night would be like, showing up at the Dunkins with his wife by his side and feeling for the first time in days like ten linebackers weren’t sitting on his chest. That terrible pressure was gone. A strange burst of feeling rose in him, but he wasn’t sure if it was gratitude or something more, something he couldn’t put his finger on. God, how he wanted to slide his hands beneath her and pull Annabel into his arms and hold her, just hold her tightly against him.

  It took everything in him to quietly leave, shutting the door behind him—just as he’d done this morning.

  Chapter Eight

  The Dunkins lived in a stately Colonial just off Blue Gulch Street in the center of town. As Annabel walked beside West up the stone path, he took her hand and smiled at her—a commiserating smile, she realized. Sometimes, such as right then, she felt such a kinship with him, them against the world—well, the Dunkins. Other times, like this morning, when she’d woken up alone in West’s bed—her bed, she amended—she felt so separate from him, so aware of their arrangement and how far apart they truly were.

  West must have been doing morning rounds when she woke this morning, so she’d left him a note to let him know she’d gone back to the apricot Victorian to pack a suitcase’s worth of clothes, though if she’d been honest, she’d have added that she needed to be back on her own turf for a little while. Last night, after a cleaning frenzy, she’d found a parenting book on the bookshelf and had started reading it on the couch, but West must have found her asleep and carried her up to bed...then left. Part of her knew his leaving was for the best, and without Lucy home, there’d been no good reason for him to have stayed in the room with her. But another part of her wanted him to want to, to want her the way he did on their wedding night.

  At the family home, Gram had been sleeping, and Clementine had been full of questions about the wedding, which Annabel answered honestly, and then Clementine had helped her choose the right outfit to officially “meet” her stepdaughter’s maternal grandparents. They shook their heads at the jeans and shorts in her closet and went for the “Dallas clothes,” a suitcase Annabel hadn’t even bothered to unpack yet. A cute, flippy yellow eyelet skirt with a sleeveless, ruffly white top and silver ballet slippers. The tiny gold starfish necklace her mother had given her for Christmas when she was twelve and gold hoop earrings from her dad. Back at the ranch, when she came out of the bedroom, hair brushed and shiny, light dusting of makeup, West had told her how grateful he was that she “got” the Dunkins. She took that to mean he thought Raina would approve of how she looked.

  West rang the bell. Raina opened the door and ignored West and took both of Annabel’s hands in hers. Across the living room, through the sliding glass doors to the backyard, Annabel could see Lucy playing outside with her grandfather, and West hurried to the back door to see his daughter.

  Raina was beaming, her ash-blond hair in a stylish bob with long, side-swept bangs. She wore a pale yellow peplum top with matching silk capris and high-heeled sandals and several sparkling bracelets. “Annabel, I’m so thrilled that you’re our Lucy’s new stepmama. I just know she’s going to be in such good hands now.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Dunkin, but—”

  Raina wagged a finger, her hazel eyes warm. “We’re practically family now. Call me Raina.”

  “Raina.” Annabel smiled. “And Lucy has always been in good hands.”

  Raina let out a burst of laughter. “Oh my, you are in love.” She laughed again as if what Annabel had said was beyond ridiculous. “We’re having just a simple Sunday dinner, Landon’s Cornish hens, my famous scalloped potatoe
s and green beans. Of course, we’re no match for a Dallas chef—I heard you were working at Table 44, which I know is a Michelin-starred restaurant.”

  Annabel didn’t really want to be reminded about Dallas, where she’d been nothing but lonely. “Well, these days I’m all about barbecue sauce and coleslaw—and that’s always been more my style.”

  “My dear, life is about family. And Hurley’s is a Blue Gulch institution. Be proud of being reared on that sauce and slaw. Did you know I had my first date at Hurley’s? Twenty-eight years ago.” She smiled and sighed. “I have good memories of that place.”

  “Me too,” Annabel said, reminded that West was saving Hurley’s for everyone, not just her family. She glanced at Raina, surprised she was warmer and friendlier than Annabel expected and actually kind of likeable.

  “Annabel!” came a happy little voice as a whirlwind rushed in and wrapped her arms around Annabel’s hips. West laughed as he came in the room, Landon Dunkin behind him. Landon wrapped Annabel in a hug and welcomed her to his home.

  “Lucy,” Raina admonished. “Is that how a little lady greets someone?”

  “Yes!” Lucy said, and giggled. At Raina’s raised eyebrow, Lucy turned to Annabel and said, “Hi!”

  Annabel kneeled down and gave Lucy a hug. “Hi, Lucy!”

  “Want to see my room here at Nana and Pop-Pop’s house?” Lucy asked, pulling Annabel down the hall.

  As Annabel headed into the very pink, very frilly room fit for a princess, she was aware of the silence coming from the living room. A strained silence. She could imagine West standing there with the Dunkins, staring at nothing in particular, waiting for Annabel and Lucy to return. She heard Landon say, “Well, let me go check on my roast.” A moment later, Raina told West to make himself comfortable while she finished up the salad. Then there was the clicking of Raina’s heels on the hardwood floor.

  Lucy showed Annabel her bookcase with her porcelain doll collection, then the dolls she was allowed to play with. Stark difference between this room and West’s living room with the LEGO structures, action figures, dolls and superheroes. Holding a rag doll with bright red hair, Lucy titled her head and said, “Are you my stepmother now?”

  Annabel smiled. “I am. And I’m very happy about that.”

  “Me too,” Lucy said, holding the doll to her chest. “I miss my mommy, but I’m happy about having a nice stepmother.”

  “I miss my mom too,” Annabel said, and gave Lucy’s hand a gentle squeeze. “If you ever need to talk about how it feels to miss your mother, you can always talk to me if you want.”

  Lucy nodded sagely and put the doll back on the shelf. Then Raina’s voice called out that it was time for dinner, so Lucy led the way into the living room.

  “How about we both wash our hands before we sit down at the table to eat?” Annabel said, smiling at Lucy as they entered the living room.

  “Just down the hall, dear,” Raina said with a satisfied smile.

  Annabel caught the equally satisfied look on West’s face.

  Well, if Annabel had been worried about “fooling” anyone about the state of her and West’s marriage, she could certainly relax. Perhaps this was really about appearances, as West had said, and all that mattered was making the right noises and giving the right directives. Wash your hands, say please and thank you, remember your manners.

  A few minutes later, they were all seated, the Dunkins at the head of the rectangular table in the formal dining room, West and Annabel on one side, Lucy on the other. Dinner passed with the usual small talk, the weather, which specials at Hurley’s most people liked best, the secret in the Creole sauce, how Annabel’s sisters were doing; Raina had commented that Georgia would surely come home to see about her grandmother, and Annabel said she was expected soon. Then there was some talk about baseball and how the Texas Rangers had fared this season, how many calves West was preparing for auction, and lots of talk about Lucy’s school and teacher, Ms. Johnson, and that Lucy was starting to read chapter books.

  Twice Lucy had mentioned her mother, and West had responded briefly but kindly, but Annabel had noticed both Raina and Landon Dunkin never acknowledged that Lucy had said anything about her mother at all. Were the Dunkins trying to be thoughtful of Annabel, thinking that hearing about West’s late wife would be uncomfortable for her? Or perhaps it was simply difficult for the Dunkins to talk about the daughter they’d lost. But as dinner wore on, Annabel realized that every time Lucy mentioned her mother, Raina changed the subject.

  “I’m looking forward to our girls’ day tomorrow after school,” Raina said to Lucy. “I love taking you to the library and reading you a story. No matter how big you get, I hope you’ll always let me read to you.”

  Lucy smiled. “What if I’m too big to fit on your lap?”

  “Never,” Raina said. “Even if you squash me, that’s okay.”

  Lucy laughed so hard that even Raina couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “Mommy used to read Winnie the Pooh books to me sometimes before bed.” She took a sip of her water. “My favorite character is Eeyore.”

  “Well, isn’t it nice that Annabel can read to you at home now?” Raina said, then cleared her throat.

  Lucy looked at Annabel, then down at her plate. Seemed clear to Annabel that Lucy wanted—needed—to talk about her mother but was being shut down.

  “I have a surprise for you at home from our wedding trip,” West said to Lucy, and the girl brightened. “It might have something to do with Eeyore.”

  “I love Eeyore!” Lucy said.

  “Isn’t she getting a little old for that?” Raina said under her breath to West. “She’s in first grade now, not preschool.”

  Annabel glanced at West, and it was clear he was controlling himself before he spoke. But before he could say anything, Mr. Dunkin asked Lucy if she’d like to help him clear the table so they could have dessert faster. Lucy flew out of her chair and carried her plate to the kitchen.

  “I’ll help too,” West said, bolting up and gathering dishes and bringing them into the kitchen.

  Interesting, Annabel thought. At first she figured the Dunkins were just very old-fashioned and old school, what with the proper this and that and pink, frilly room. But with Mr. Dunkin having cooked the roast and clearing the table, clearly the Dunkins weren’t all that blindly traditional. Something else seemed to be driving Raina Dunkin to be on West’s case to the degree she was. And since Annabel had no doubt she’d be spending quite a bit of time with the Dunkins, she was sure she’d find out what it was.

  Apple pie and coffee consumed, West collected Lucy’s overnight bag, and the three of them walked to the door.

  “So I’ve decided that I’d like us all to have Sunday dinner every week,” Raina said. “We’ll alternate houses. See you at your place next Sunday. Of course, I may drop in a couple of times during the week to see my grandbaby.”

  West smiled tightly. “Thank you for dinner, Raina, Landon.”

  Finally they were out the door, Annabel’s shoulders relaxing.

  “That went well,” West whispered as he held open the passenger door of his pickup. “Thank you.”

  Annabel nodded and got inside the truck. “I think everything’s going to be fine from now on.”

  Lucy kept up her adorable chitchat all the way back to the ranch, how she and her father were building a LEGO donkey house for Eeyore.

  West pulled up in front of the ranch house. “Lucy and I do rounds after dinner every night. Want to join us?”

  “You can meet the calves,” Lucy said to Annabel. “The little brown one is my favorite, but something is wrong with his leg. He’s still my very favorite, though.”

  “Well, I’d love to meet him.”

  Lucy smiled and Annabel told West she’d take Lucy upstairs to help her change, then would change herself and m
eet him back downstairs.

  “So far, so great,” he said. “I’d say this marriage is definitely doing its job,” he whispered in her ear.

  * * *

  Lucy’s room at her dad’s house was a stark contrast to her princess room at her grandparents’. The furniture was all “little girl”—white bed and matching dresser with yellow and blue flowers with a big oval mirror atop it—but the touches, the posters on the walls, the toys, the LEGOs, the robots, the remote-control car and the stuffed beagle collection, that seemed all Lucy. And maybe West. A big poster of a rodeo advertisement took up one wall, and several posters of cartoony animals were all over another. A children’s table with a robot, a stuffed Big Bird and a doll on the chairs stood in a corner, a bright orange bean bag beside shelves full of books.

  Annabel moved to the closet and slid open the white door. “Wow, you have a lot of clothes,” she said, trying to move hangers aside so that Lucy could get to her tops and bottoms more easily.

  “I have a favorites drawer in my dresser,” Lucy said. “I never go into my closet unless Nana wants to pick out an outfit for me.”

  “What’s in your favorites drawer?” Annabel asked.

  Lucy walked over to the white dresser and pulled open the bottom drawer. “Way in the back I keep my favorite pants and shirts so Nana won’t throw them away. She says they’re not little-lady-like.” Lucy pulled out a pair of faded green cotton pants with frayed hems and a small hole in the knee. “These are my best climbing pants and my absolute favorites. Do you want to know why?”

  Annabel kneeled down. “Yes.”

  Lucy came closer and moved aside a swath of Annabel’s hair and cupped her hand between her mouth and Annabel’s ear. “I was wearing them the last time I saw Mommy.”

  Annabel’s heart squeezed. “Oh, Lucy. I can understand why they’re so special to you, then.”

  “Nana says they belong in the trash because they’re so raggedy, but Daddy said I don’t have to throw them out.”