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Slatestuck in Spencer’s vision. He’d had to reconcile with his family too, and it had been extremely difficult for him.Maybe we could grill here at Sweet Water Falls, Spencer said.Or I’ll bring some hamburgers to you.
Ted’s the one with the grilling skills to pay the bills, Nate said, and that made Spencer smile.
Friday night barbecue?he asked.
It’s on, Nate confirmed.
Spencer looked up from his phone to find Clarissa standing at the window that looked toward her house. He took a moment to drink her in, wondering if he was brave enough to ask her about the job in the city. At dinner, she’d already filled in everyone about the applications she’d put out.
Now I just have to wait, she’d said.
Spencer looked at the microwave. Three more minutes, and then the cakes were supposed to sit inside for five. He wandered closer to Clarissa, taking his time so he didn’t scare her away. “Will you go to San Antonio if you don’t get a job?” he asked as he stepped next to her.
She turned to look at him. “I’m going to get a job.”
He nodded, not sure what to say next. He didn’t want to argue with her, and she wasn’t stupid. She knew what it meant when no one called about her application.
“We’re having a barbecue at Hope Eternal on Friday,” he said. “Would you like to go with me?”
The blazing energy in her eyes went down a notch, and she said, “Sure, that sounds fun.”
Spencer wasn’t sure if it did or not. The grumbling in his chest told him it wouldn’t be fun. But intellectually, he knew he’d have a good time. He always did with the Mulbury boys.
“Great,” he said. “Then you can meet all those cowboys you spied on over the weekend.”
* * *
“I can’t believethis was milk,” Spencer said, looking down into the huge saucepan Clarissa had poured a gallon of milk into. She’d heated it until it boiled, then she’d reduced the heat and added lemon juice.
The milk had curdled, making cheese. Some green liquid remained on the bottom, and she currently laid some appropriately named cheesecloth over the top of a big bowl.
“Bring it over here, Mister Muscles.”
He liked working with her in the kitchen, and warmth spread through him at the nickname. He picked up the big pan and poured the remaining milk and cheese over the bowl while she held the cloth steady.
She bundled it all up as she said, “Now we let it cool while we make our flavorings for the spread.”
“That’s going to be cream cheese,” he said, almost asking but not quite.
“Yes,” she said again, smiling. “We’ll add some salt to it and blend it up until it’s creamy. It’ll be cream cheese.” She tapped the binder as she moved down the counter. “Now, that made four cups of cream cheese, which is enough to make about two cups of four different spreads. We sell those in four-ounce containers, so that will be four tubs of each.” She indicated the food service containers, which were made of white plastic and had a clear lid.
She looked at him, and he looked down the counter to the other ingredients they’d assembled. Spices, herbs, garlic, shredded cheese, mayonnaise, butter, and more.
“You don’t want to use a food processor with the spreads,” she said, lifting up another kitchen appliance. “A simple hand-mixer is your best friend.”
He nodded, his heartbeat doing weird things in his chest.
“This one is garlic and herb,” she said. “It’s one of our bestsellers, and we’re completely out.”
“So four containers isn’t going to be enough,” he said.
“No.” She smiled at him. “You’re going to do two more gallons of milk and repeat these recipes after I show them to you.” Oh, so it was a predatory smile, and Spencer could only blink at her.
She giggled and then got down to business. She chopped garlic at the first station and brought over all the herbs she’d taken from the pantry—dill, parsley, basil, and thyme. She measured everything out into a bowl in front of the small cutting board, talking as she went.
The recipe had been taken from the binder and sat right beside the board, so Spencer focused on what she was doing, not how much of each ingredient she put in the bowl.
“You’ll triple this next time,” she said, glancing at him. “Okay?”
