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“Of course I do,” Mom said, but Gina didn’t think she did.
She sighed and capped her coffee. “Yeah, it’s a twenty-minute drive to Longhorn, and I don’t want to be late.” The sun had not peeked its head over the horizon yet, and Gina told herself that the life of a pastry chef was often lived in darkness. Most people who worked in restaurants or bakeries had to endure interesting sleeping and eating schedules.
For example, she’d have her coffee on the drive in to work, but she wouldn’t eat until breakfast closed for guests at the lodge. After that break, she figured she’d work on the evening desserts, then be done for the day in the early afternoon.
“I’ll be back by three to take you to your pedicure.” She stepped over to her mom and kissed her on the cheek. “Okay? You’re going back to bed?”
“Yes, after Fox comes in.” Mom smiled at her, and Gina could see Ella in her mother so easily. She wondered if others could see her in her mom, but she wasn’t sure. Everyone, for her whole life, had commented about how Mom and Ella looked like sisters. Then they’d look at Gina and just smile. The black sheep’s wool she’d been carrying for decades definitely fit her, but Gina gave her mom a smile.
“Good luck with your new job,” Mom said. Gina’s eyes caught on the clock, and she nodded.
“Thanks, Mom.” She ducked out the back door, didn’t see Fox, and went down the few steps to the yard. She parked on the side of the garage, and she’d been tromping through the gravel and dried weeds for several days now, so a path had been forged.
She adjusted the heater to blow and turned off the radio. She just wanted to be alone with her thoughts as she drove, and once she got on the road, she realized just how good the Texas countryside was at taking a person’s thoughts and echoing them back to them loudly.
She’d hated that as a teenager, but now…she found it peaceful and calming. She sipped her coffee and thought about the person who hadn’t left her mind for much longer than a few seconds since yesterday.
Blake Stewart.
Friends.
She scoffed out loud, because they’d been so much more than friends. She told herself the past didn’t matter. What mattered was her being able to move out of her parents’ house and having some stability so she could figure out what she wanted to do next with her life.
Chestnut Springs had never been part of Gina’s plans, but the world had an odd way of shifting so early in the morning.
She made the turn to drive onto the ranch, and the lodge lights lit up the darkness like a beacon calling her home. She immediately resisted the idea, but her heart softened at the same time.
The Stewarts didn’t spare any expense when it came to their grounds, facilities, and buildings. The roof boasted lights every few feet, with the whole front porch flooded with a cheery golden glow.
Starla Masters had texted Gina instructions last night, and she made another turn after the first barn before reaching the lodge parking lot. That was for guests and visitors, and Gina was now neither. She pulled around to the back of the lodge, noting how wide and tall it was before parking next to a pick-up truck. A man got out of it as she cut the engine, and she took a deep breath and then opened her door.
After reaching back for her purse, she went around the truck.
“Good mornin’,” the man said, and Gina yelped. “Whoa, whoa, it’s just me.” He held up both hands, but Gina had no idea who “me” was. She held her purse in front of her like this guy dressed in gym shorts and a T-shirt with a faded palm tree on the front would attack.
“You must be new,” he said.
She nodded, glancing toward the door Starla had said would lead right into the kitchen.
“I’m Nash,” he said, grinning. “Blake’s brother.”
Gina’s heart pounded with adrenaline, but not because Nash might rush her. “What?” came out of her mouth. “You’re like…old.”
He laughed, the sound filling up the Texas sky. “So are you, Gina.” He came toward her, his face all lit up like the lodge. “Blake said he’d hired you.” His eyes slid down to her sneakered feet. “I sort of didn’t believe him, but here you are.”
“You were eight the last time I saw you.”
He chuckled again and said, “I’m twenty-eight now.” He gestured for her to follow him. “Come on, Starla doesn’t like it when we’re late.”
“I left early,” Gina said, falling into step with him. “She’s not as bad as she seems, is she?”
“Sometimes she’s worse,” Nash said under his breath. “Don’t tell her I said that.”
She crossed her heart again, asking, “You work in the kitchen?” She didn’t think the Stewarts did things like that. They held administrative roles around the ranch, didn’t they?
“I’m the morning manager,” he said. “So I have to know what’s going on for breakfast, morning activities, et cetera.” He made his job sound so casual, but Gina had a feeling it wasn’t. He opened the door for her, and she slipped past him into the belly of the beast.
Heat filled the kitchen, as it does in all good kitchens. Someone had been here working for a while already, and Gina’s stomach trembled. She looked around, trying to take everything in at the same time. She couldn’t do that, of course, but her eyes did catalog the fancy appliances, the steaming pots, the warmers full of food.
