“You’re right, and she’s so nice.” Merry Anna folded her hands in front of her. “I might have to buy sugar just to improve our neighborhood rating.”
“That would be easier than getting me to stick close to home.”
“So I hear.”
“Yeah?”
“I mean, it came up at the Spring Fling. They said you wereon the road all the time, which is pretty much what you just told me, so it’s no secret.”
“Nope. Not a secret. It’s what I do.”
“How’d it go the rest of the weekend?” she asked.
“Well, I’d planned to come straight home Sunday, but things didn’t go according to plan.” He placed a hand over his injury.
“What happened? Did you get bucked off?”
“No, I rode to the buzzer, but the bull got the last word.”
“That doesn’t sound good.” She took a step back.
“It wasn’t,” he admitted. “He dragged me around a bit. Gored me at the end.”
“Gored you?” She stood there with her mouth open for a second. “Are you okay? Should you be in bed or something?”
“No, I’m fine. Believe me, it’s been worse. Just banged up and bruised.” He could see the terror in her eyes. The sameYou’re crazylook he got often but with that softer lowering of the eyelid like Mom gave him.
“Enough about that. We’ve got pies to bake.” He lined up the pie plates. “I figured we’ll make the first one together, and then we’ll make two more. I’ll just be your spotter on those. This is easy. Just about anyone can do it, but you’ll get props because there isn’t much better than fresh strawberry pie. Ready?”
“Yep.”
“We’ll make the pie crust first.”
“Oh my gosh. You even make the crust?” She flipped her hands in the air. “I’m totally in over my head here.”
“A good crust is critical. Trust me. You can do this.”
“You’ve never seen me in the kitchen, but I do appreciate your confidence in me.”
“No offense, but it’s the recipe I’m confident in.” He’d beenmaking these pies since he could barely reach the counter, so certainly she could handle it.
“Which you’ve already told me you don’t follow.” She let out a slow disbelieving breath.
“Would you please get the butter and flour from the fridge?”
“Sure.” She opened the door, then turned to him. “You keep your flour in the refrigerator?”
“Yes. The key to good crust is keeping the ingredients chilled.”
She bobbed her head as she grabbed both and toted them to the island. “How does someone even learn that?”
“I learned from my mom.”
She sucked in a deep breath, and he walked her through every teeny step.
She measured out the salt and then tossed it into the bowl.
He grabbed some salt and tossed it over his shoulder. “For good luck.”
