have the article taped to their mirror,” Mason explained.
“Where is Tishomingo?”
“About an hour and a half northwest of here.”
“Duh!” Lily said. “It’s where Miranda Lambert and Blake Shelton live.”
“Well, duh!” Annie Rose said right back at her. “I knew that. I just didn’t know about a Pink Pistol store.”
Annie Rose peeled four potatoes and cut them up into the browned hamburger meat, put a lid on it, and found a couple of sauce pans in the cabinet for green beans and corn. “I bet you’ve got time to get those playpens out of the attic while I get supper ready, Mason. And the girls might even have time to get started on cleaning them. Check close for spiders. This is the time of year when they hide in corners.”
***
Mason propped a hip on a stool in front of the bar dividing the kitchen from the dining nook, where four chairs circled a small, round pedestal table. “They are out in the front yard with buckets of water, doing their part of the job. This should prove interesting. That smells really good.”
“Just hash and vegetables. They’ve had a lot of sugar. This should settle them down for the night. I appreciate you giving me this job. I really do like kids and I like to cook, but it’s no fun cooking for one person,” she said.
It was the way she dumped the can of green beans into the pan that brought him up short. Holly had tapped the bottom of the can to get out the very last bean like that. He shut his eyes and could visualize her red ponytail swishing around as she prepared supper and her green eyes dancing when she held her hand under a spoon as she carried a taste of whatever she was cooking to him.
“The girls like you.” He blinked away the memories.
“It could be a passing thing.” She laughed.
Thank God her laughter wasn’t anything like Holly’s. His wife had sounded like a little girl with a case of giggles. Annie Rose sounded like a three-hundred-pound trucker. But they both ducked their head the same way when they got tickled and he had to get away from it all in a hurry. He had to clear his mind, figure out what it was about this woman that caused him such feelings when others couldn’t or at least hadn’t.
“I’d best go make sure one of them hasn’t drowned the other in the bucket of water,” he said.
“Supper will be ready in about twenty minutes, but if you want them to finish the job before they eat, I can keep it warm until they do,” she told him.
Holly would have said that supper would be ready in twenty and he’d better be at the table or she’d pour it in the trash can.
“I’ll see how the job is coming along,” Mason said.
He wandered out onto the front porch, scratching his head and trying to analyze the day. Annie Rose had been hurt, both physically and mentally, so the protective side of him wanted her to be sure that she was safe on his ranch. But the part that kept his wife’s memory alive in his heart wished that he hadn’t hired her. It could be that he’d be the one who put Annie Rose off the ranch, not the girls.
***
The apartment was quite a bit larger than the one-room-plus-bath efficiency she’d rented out in Midland, Texas. She’d played it smart. Work in one town. Live in another town. Keep the getaway car, cash, and papers in another. That’s the way she’d kept her sanity.
She could hear bleating goats, but the sound was faint. It certainly wouldn’t keep her from sleeping in that big old queen-sized bed beckoning to her. It hadn’t taken long to repack her things into the suitcase and move them from the tiny upstairs room down to her new digs.
The How to Remember book now rested on the nightstand in her bedroom. She sank down into a rocker recliner and threw the side lever to prop up her feet. The air conditioner clicked on and cool air flowed from the vent right above her. She shivered and grabbed for the small quilt draped over the side of the love seat right beside her.
Love seat! Made
“Where is Tishomingo?”
“About an hour and a half northwest of here.”
“Duh!” Lily said. “It’s where Miranda Lambert and Blake Shelton live.”
“Well, duh!” Annie Rose said right back at her. “I knew that. I just didn’t know about a Pink Pistol store.”
Annie Rose peeled four potatoes and cut them up into the browned hamburger meat, put a lid on it, and found a couple of sauce pans in the cabinet for green beans and corn. “I bet you’ve got time to get those playpens out of the attic while I get supper ready, Mason. And the girls might even have time to get started on cleaning them. Check close for spiders. This is the time of year when they hide in corners.”
***
Mason propped a hip on a stool in front of the bar dividing the kitchen from the dining nook, where four chairs circled a small, round pedestal table. “They are out in the front yard with buckets of water, doing their part of the job. This should prove interesting. That smells really good.”
“Just hash and vegetables. They’ve had a lot of sugar. This should settle them down for the night. I appreciate you giving me this job. I really do like kids and I like to cook, but it’s no fun cooking for one person,” she said.
It was the way she dumped the can of green beans into the pan that brought him up short. Holly had tapped the bottom of the can to get out the very last bean like that. He shut his eyes and could visualize her red ponytail swishing around as she prepared supper and her green eyes dancing when she held her hand under a spoon as she carried a taste of whatever she was cooking to him.
“The girls like you.” He blinked away the memories.
“It could be a passing thing.” She laughed.
Thank God her laughter wasn’t anything like Holly’s. His wife had sounded like a little girl with a case of giggles. Annie Rose sounded like a three-hundred-pound trucker. But they both ducked their head the same way when they got tickled and he had to get away from it all in a hurry. He had to clear his mind, figure out what it was about this woman that caused him such feelings when others couldn’t or at least hadn’t.
“I’d best go make sure one of them hasn’t drowned the other in the bucket of water,” he said.
“Supper will be ready in about twenty minutes, but if you want them to finish the job before they eat, I can keep it warm until they do,” she told him.
Holly would have said that supper would be ready in twenty and he’d better be at the table or she’d pour it in the trash can.
“I’ll see how the job is coming along,” Mason said.
He wandered out onto the front porch, scratching his head and trying to analyze the day. Annie Rose had been hurt, both physically and mentally, so the protective side of him wanted her to be sure that she was safe on his ranch. But the part that kept his wife’s memory alive in his heart wished that he hadn’t hired her. It could be that he’d be the one who put Annie Rose off the ranch, not the girls.
***
The apartment was quite a bit larger than the one-room-plus-bath efficiency she’d rented out in Midland, Texas. She’d played it smart. Work in one town. Live in another town. Keep the getaway car, cash, and papers in another. That’s the way she’d kept her sanity.
She could hear bleating goats, but the sound was faint. It certainly wouldn’t keep her from sleeping in that big old queen-sized bed beckoning to her. It hadn’t taken long to repack her things into the suitcase and move them from the tiny upstairs room down to her new digs.
The How to Remember book now rested on the nightstand in her bedroom. She sank down into a rocker recliner and threw the side lever to prop up her feet. The air conditioner clicked on and cool air flowed from the vent right above her. She shivered and grabbed for the small quilt draped over the side of the love seat right beside her.
Love seat! Made
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