“In need of a good smack,” she replied without missing a beat. “I’ve never met such a disagreeable person.”
“Try to give him a little grace. He’s had a tough time.”
“That’s no excuse to be rude to good folk just trying to help him.”
I held my hands up in defeat. “I know. I know. But I think he’s coming around. He’s lost a lot.”
Maggy raised her eyebrow in my direction, but she didn’t say anything else on the subject. “Well, I’m pretty much done here for the night. I’ll check in with Dolly and let you know what she says. Flyers already went up today, so I expect the entire town will show up on Friday night for this thing.” She paused, giving me a smile. “And you have your firstofficialsermon tomorrow.”
A flutter of nervousness shot through my stomach at the reminder. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been working on it all week.”
“You’ll do fine,” Maggy assured me, shouldering her purse. “The congregation is excited to finally hear from their new pastor. Just speak from the heart.”
I nodded, though the butterflies in my stomach didn’t seem convinced. After she left, I locked up the church and walked back to the parsonage, my mind already turning to what I might cook for dinner. Something simple, maybe pasta. Cash seemed to appreciate when I made an effort, even if he’d never admit it outright.
The house was quiet when I let myself in through the front door. Cash’s truck was in the driveway, so I knew he was around somewhere. Probably holed up in his room again, making calls about the ranch or brooding about something. He’d been doing a lot of both lately and I couldn’t expect one vulnerable night between us to change him that much.
I was pulling ingredients out of the refrigerator when I heard his boots on the kitchen floor behind me.
“Smells good in here,” he said, his voice carrying that particular roughness it always had when he was trying to be casual about something.
I glanced over my shoulder at him. His hair was mussed like he’d been running his hands through it, and there was dirt on his jeans. “I haven’t started cooking yet.”
“Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish. “Well, it smells like...possibility, I guess.”
The comment was so unexpectedly sweet that I had to turn away to hide my smile. “How was your day? Any luck with buyers?”
Cash leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “Not really. Left a few messages.” He paused, then added, “Went out to the Macready place with Rowan.”
I nearly dropped the box of pasta I was holding. “You did what now?”
“Helped with a calving,” he said, his tone defensive like he expected me to make a big deal out of it. “Wasn’t plannin’ on it, just sort of happened.”
I set the pasta down on the counter and turned to face him fully. This was the first time since he’d arrived that Cash had voluntarily spent time with anyone from town, let alone Rowan. “How did that go?”
He shrugged, but I caught something in his expression. A softness around his eyes that hadn’t been there this morning. “Fine. Heifer had a turned calf. Got it sorted.”
“And Rowan?”
Cash’s jaw tightened slightly. “He’s not as useless as I thought.”
Coming from Cash, that was practically a glowing endorsement. I bit back the urge to push for more details, sensing that he’d already shared more than he was comfortable with.
“Well,” I said, turning back to the stove, “I’m glad you got out of the house. You’ve been cooped up in here too much.”
I heard him move behind me, his boots scuffing against the linoleum. When I glanced back, he was closer than before, close enough that I could smell the outdoors on him. I caught a whiff of hay and barn dust and…man.
“What’re you makin’?” he asked, his voice lower now.
“Just spaghetti. Nothing fancy.”
His hand brushed against my lower back as he reached around me to grab a beer from the refrigerator. The touch was brief, probably accidental, but it sent heat racing through my body, anyway.
“Need help?” he asked.
I almost laughed. Cash Callahan offering to help cook was about as likely as him offering to lead Sunday service. “You cook?”
“I can manage not to burn water,” he said dryly. “Probably.”
