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“That’s why I don’t let TJ come over there,” she said.
“You could, though,” he said. “Especially in the afternoons. I know what to do with a five-year-old on the ranch.” Trey finished putting the brown cores and stained paper towels in the trash and turned to the sink to clean up the peels there. “Do you need this water?”
“No,” she said, stirring the apples on the stove so they wouldn’t burn and stick to the bottom of the pan. She just needed the sugar to incorporate and not be grainy. Then she’d add the butter and blend until smooth.
“What would you do with him on the ranch?” she asked. “He’s a bit of a wanderer. I’m worried you’d think he was with you when he wasn’t.”
“He’s been over there a lot when no one knew where he was,” Trey pointed out. “I’d have him lead a horse where it needed to go. I’d have him hand me a clipboard, open a gate, make a checkmark. There’s plenty he can do.” He turned on the sink and wetted the washcloth. He wiped down the whole sink and then the counter, and Beth thought she’d died and gone to heaven.
“I didn’t know men knew how to wipe out a sink,” she commented.
“Okay,” he said dryly. “All men?”
“I’ve never met one who even seems to know the sink gets dirty.” The applesauce had thickened, and the sugar had made everything a beautiful, toasty golden brown. “Can you line up nine bottles for me, please?” she asked. “Right here next to the stove.”
“Sure,” he said, tossing the washcloth into the sink. He did what she asked, and Beth plugged in her immersion blender and got to work on the apples.
“Wow,” Trey said above the noise. “This is kinda cool.”
Beth finished and said, “Okay, let’s see those muscles in action.” She wasn’t sure she had the strength to lift the heavy pot another time. “Pour that into those jars, stopping about an inch from the top.”
“Just pour it in?”
“Yep. Just pour it in.”
He picked up the pot like it was made of foam and not metal and did what she asked. She followed behind him, wiping the tops of the jars absolutely clean and then putting a lid on them, followed by a silver ring she didn’t tighten down too much yet.
“Okay,” she said, blowing out her breath. “Since that’s our last batch, we get a little break.” She glanced at the clock. “TJ will be done in forty minutes. Do you think you could pick him up?”
“From school?” Trey’s eyebrows flew up.
“Yes,” she said. “It’s fine if you can’t. I’ll go, and you can take these jars out when the timer goes off. Then you tighten the rings on these and put them in the water bath—but you have to make sure the water boils again. Then you can—”
“I’ll pick him up,” Trey said, eyeing the pots and jars and tongs like they might spring to life and bite him. “We’re just coming back here?”
“Yes,” she said. “Then we’re going to make peach pie filling and peach jam this afternoon.”
Trey looked like she’d just told him he’d have to eat raw liver for the rest of his life. “I feel like you tricked me,” he said, grinning at her. “You said it wouldn’t be bad.”
“It’s not,” she said. “Both of those things don’t require any canning, and we can freeze them both.” She nudged him with her hip as he encroached on her space. “It’s just a lot of peeling.”
“You have three bushels of peaches,” he said. “How much jam do you need?”
“I’m only doing one of them,” she said, turning to look at the boxes of peaches. “My sister is coming to get the rest of them.”
“Your sister,” he said. “She’s younger? No, you just said she turned sixteen and helped drive you guys. She’s older.”
“She’s older,” Beth confirmed. “I’m the middle child.” Her alarm went off, and she silenced it. “That’s my cue to leave to get TJ.”
Trey just kept looking at her, something bubbling in his expression. “You set an alarm for that?”
“It’s really easy to get busy and not pay attention to the clock,” she said. “So yes. Monday through Friday, I have an alarm that goes off at twelve-fifteen.” Her stomach grumbled, and she considered asking Trey to bring home some lunch with her son.
She couldn’t quite get herself to do it, and she turned back to the stove to stir the cooking apples though they didn’t need to be stirred.
“Beth,” Trey said, and she turned to face him. “Thanks for letting me go get TJ.”
She didn’t know what to say, and then she didn’t have to respond, because Trey cradled her face in one hand and gently tipped her head back so he could kiss her.
