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“Yeah, that’s me,” Glen said as if he’d read her thoughts. “Sure do miss the thrill of it all. You ever been to a rodeo?”
Tressa shook her head.
Glen clapped Roth on the back. “You should take her, Pilot. She’d enjoy it.”
When Glen moved away, Tressa mouthed, “Pilot?”
Roth leaned in close. “I don’t just design planes. I sometimes like to fly them.”
“Fly—”
Tressa’s inquiry was cut short. She assumed the stocky woman who rushed toward them was Nettie. She wrapped her chubby arms around Roth and hugged as if squeezing him gave her life. With her short stature, she barely made it to Roth’s pecs.
“I didn’t think I’d get to see you this trip.”
When Nettie finally released Roth, she set her eyes on Tressa, then Roth, then Tressa again. “Oh, Glen, you were right.”
Tressa’s brow furrowed. Right? Right about what?
Nettie didn’t elaborate; she simply pulled Tressa into her arms and hugged her just as affectionately as she had Roth. One thing about Nettie and Glen, they sure knew how to make a person feel at ease.
Lunch consisted of the best stew Tressa had ever put in her mouth, homemade sourdough rolls and a lemon meringue pie that practically melted in her mouth. When Glen asked to see Roth in his study, Tressa and Nettie tidied the kitchen, then sat at the table and thumbed through Nettie’s recipe box.
Tressa was like a kid on Christmas morning. Some of the recipes had been passed down through Nettie’s family from generation to generation. Tressa made a stack of all the ones she wanted to photocopy. There was only one she wasn’t allowed to even glance at. When she’d reached for the flimsy aged once-white paper, Nettie moved it out of reach.
“Tradition,” Nettie said. “You have to be family for this recipe. Glen’s mother passed this along to me when we were first married. She said every woman should own one recipe of love.” Nettie beamed as if remembering the moment. “It’s brought years and years of Sanders love.”
Tressa’s mind worked overtime, guessing what kind of recipe it could be. A beverage, appetizer, main dish, then she settled on it being a dessert. An extremely decadent dessert. Fine chocolate, maybe? Orange liqueur? No, raspberry.
Suddenly, something Nettie said replayed in her head. Years and years of Sanders love.
Nettie wasn’t just the food delivery woman; she was much more. “Sanders? You were the teacher who gave him the necklace.”
Nettie smiled. “He told you about that?”
Tressa nodded. “Yes, he did. I laughed at the mustang part,” she admitted.
Nettie laughed. “Lord, that boy was a handful. Cutting class, fighting, getting into all kinds of trouble.” She frowned. “Glen and I could never have kids of our own. My students became my kids and I poured as much love into them as I could. For some reason, I really took to Pilot, and he took to me.”
“You saw something in him,” Tressa said, repeating what Roth had told her.
“Yes, I did. He had both book and street smarts. There was no limit to what he could accomplish. He just needed someone to believe in him. We would have adopted him, but we could never cut through all of the red tape. Seems they based their decisions on the amount of money one has, rather than the amount of love.”
“Thank you for believing in him.” Tressa had said the words before she’d even realized her brain was forming them. But gratitude for such a selfless act was warranted.
Nettie cupped Tressa’s hands. “Pilot must really like you. He’s always been so guarded when it came to his past. Be good to him. You have an extraordinary man.”
Nettie wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know. “I will.”
Once they’d said their goodbyes and made promises to return soon, Tressa and Roth ventured into town.
Their first stop was the Silver Point Coffee House. When they walked through the door, Roth was greeted by several individuals. Obviously, he was well-known by the locals.
Just like The General Store, the coffeehouse gave an old-timey impression from the outside, but the inside told a different story. Exposed brick and aged wood gave the quaint shop a modern feel. There was ample seating with bistro and four-top tables scattered about. What caught Tressa’s eye was the two oversize empty burgundy recliners positioned in front of a tall crackling fireplace. It was the perfect spot for them.
