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Erica looked at Bo dead in the eye.
“You know you need me,” he said, grinning.
But Erica just smiled and, keeping her eyes on Bo, said, “Excuse me, miss?”
Charlotte blinked. Apparently she was talking to her. “Ah, yes?”
“Can you help flip pancakes?” Erica asked her.
Charlotte was about to say no way in hell, because she couldn’t make an ice cube much less a pancake, but Gracie looked so hopeful.
“Sure,” Charlotte said, hoping her grimace at least resembled a smile.
Bo didn’t say anything, just looked at Erica like he was truly wounded. Erica merely tossed Charlotte an apron. She put it on, the bright red fabric with dancing green peppers tied tightly around her waist, and took up a station beside Gracie.
Erica set a big bowl of batter down next to her and handed her a spatula. “Just pour a quarter of a cup at a time and flip every thirty seconds or so.” Then she shuffled over to the next table to help other girls and their moms get going.
Gracie smiled up at her, and Charlotte tried to tamp down her nerves. There was a line of people already forming, paper plates in hand.
“Well, here we go…” Charlotte said, and poured the batter.
The pancakes bubbled and Gracie smiled. “You’re doing good.”
She appreciated Gracie’s support, because when Charlotte looked around, she realized she was getting the stink-eye from two of the women in nearby tents. The same two she’d run across before.
She took a deep breath and flipped the pancake and wondered if black was the correct color for a pancake, just as their first customer approached.
With a tight smile and Gracie at her hip, she started doing her best as “acting pancake parent.”
…
Tripp hated being late, but sometimes the ranch made it tough to get out of there. Only twenty minutes into the festivities, and already the town square was packed. Hopefully Bo had taken over his station until he could get there.
“Hey, man,” Bo said, sidling up to him while scraping a paper plate of pancake syrup.
“Where’s Gracie?” Tripp demanded. “Why aren’t you with her?”
“Relax, she’s with Charlotte. Maybe I was wrong about our chat the other day.” He licked his fork. “These are damn good pancakes.”
Tripp didn’t register half of what Bo was saying. He’d already spotted Charlotte with Gracie behind the table, flipping pancakes. Pride and happiness swelled in his chest.
“She stepped in?” Tripp asked.
“More or less,” Bo said. “But Gracie is happy. You seem to be, too.”
He was happy. And seeing Charlotte with his daughter doing mom-type things, like watching a movie or making pancakes, made him want so badly to give that to Gracie. It also made him want Charlotte all the more.
“Maybe she’ll stick around after all,” Bo said. “But who am I to know a damn thing. I’m going to get more pancakes. You coming?”
Tripp nodded. “Yeah. They turn out well?”
“Oh God no, not Charlotte’s. I don’t think the woman can cook to save her life. I got some of Erica’s pancakes.”
Erica was the troop leader and a busy single mom. He li
ked her. Gracie loved her. And Bo always went out of his way to talk to her.
One of these days, they’d have to have a talk about hitting on single parents.
