Whenever You Come Around by Robin Lee Hatcher Page B

laughed softly. “I’d trade you if I could.” She rubbed her belly in a circular motion. “Six weeks of those casts or, hopefully, six weeks of this.”
    “No, thanks. Don’t think I’d care for that trade.” He grinned at her as he rolled toward the kitchen.
    “You can bet you wouldn’t,” Sara retorted.
    As Buck got settled at the table, Ken said, “I think I’d better get Sara home. Do you need anything else before we go?”
    “Nah. I’m good. Thanks for the help.”
    Ken punched him in the upper arm, a gesture that said more about the love between brothers than any words could.

Chapter 6
    I N B OISE ON A F RIDAY NIGHT , C HARITY HAD RARELY stayed at home. She usually went out to dinner with a date or to see a movie with girlfriends or dancing with a group of singles. When with others, she could escape the memories she wanted to avoid, memories she’d run from for years.
    She had fewer choices in Kings Meadow. She could go to one of the bars, but those places were smoky and noisy. And besides, she’d stopped drinking once she admitted the part alcohol had played in her numerous bad choices. She could go out to eat at the Tamarack Grill. They had good food, but there would also be too many people who knew her. Too many people with too many comments and questions.
    No, it was better that she stay put. Except her parents’ home felt so quiet and empty, and the silence wasn’t comfortable. It gave her too much time to think. To think about the past. An even bigger problem here in Kings Meadow than when she was in Boise. She’d had enough grim thoughts for one day.
    I could cook a real dinner for Buck .
    Where had that thought come from? No, that wouldn’t be wise.
    Why not? If I don’t cook, I’ll go over there and heat another helping of a casserole. Does he deserve more of the same, day after day?
    Besides, Buck wasn’t at fault for the memories that troubled her any more than his nephew was at fault for her reaction to him that morning. Guilt by association. That wasn’t fair.
    And besides, I like to cook .
    She released a deep sigh.
    She had spent the better part of the last year trying to change the things that were wrong with her and wrong with the ways she had lived. She’d grown tired of . . . of everything. Mostly she was tired of the fear that had let her past rule her present.
    Her mind made up, she went into the kitchen and removed items from the refrigerator: salmon—although she had shopped for one, she’d bought enough for two—a couple of potatoes, and the makings for a tossed salad. She reached to turn on the oven, then pulled back her hand. If she did the cooking here, she would still be surrounded by the silence that troubled her. No, she would prepare the dinner at Buck’s house. Maybe he would be even more impressed by her culinary skills.
    She and Nathan Gilbert, her last boyfriend, had frequently enjoyed candlelight dinners in her home. She’d thought for a short while that they might marry, but Nathan hadn’t been impressed by her efforts to put her life in order. He wasn’t interested in settling down. Not with her. Not with anyone. She couldn’t even lay the blame entirely at his feet. For years she’d broken off every relationship the moment it looked like theman in her life was getting too serious. She’d never let herself fall in love. Perhaps she hadn’t been able to love. But now . . . perhaps she’d like to have a chance of loving and being loved.
    Shaking off those thoughts, she put the dinner preparations into a basket and headed out the door, Cocoa following close behind. Buck’s driveway was empty of any vehicles save his truck. Had a friend already been there to feed the horses or was someone still to come?
    She knocked as usual. When she heard him call, “Come in,” she turned the knob and opened the door.
    “Is Cocoa welcome?” she asked before stepping inside.
    “Of course. She and I made peace this morning.” Buck was seated on the sofa