A Texas Thanksgiving. Margaret DaleyЧитать онлайн книгу.
Julia paused in bringing her glass of water to her lips. “Well, honey, there’s just one thing wrong with that. I don’t know how to ride.”
“Mommy! You don’t? I thought every grown-up knew how.”
“We can take care of that. The next time I give you a lesson, I can give your mother one, too.”
Ellie clapped her hands. “That’s perfect!”
“No, it isn’t. You might like to ride those big animals, but I don’t think I want to.”
Ellie’s eyes grew round. “Why not?”
“I…” Up until June, she’d lived her whole life in Chicago, and hadn’t even once been to a farm.
“Yeah, why not? Scared to let me be the teacher?”
Evan’s dare taunted her as he knew it would. Julia bristled for a few seconds and said, “Okay, I’ll learn, and I’ll learn how to ride faster than you’ll learn to cook a simple dinner by yourself.”
“I’ll take you up on that challenge.”
“Daddy, when are you gonna give Ellie her next lesson? Next weekend?”
“I can’t. I have to set up for the school carnival Friday afternoon and evening and then work it on Saturday.”
“So do I.” Julia finally took a long drink of her cold water. Instead of staying away from the man, she found herself planning ways to be with him. Probably not a good idea, but she didn’t know how to get out of it gracefully and not disappoint her daughter.
“Then we can do it next Sunday after church.”
“Fine, and I’ll give you your second cooking lesson. We’ll make pizza.”
“Only if you give me a list of ingredients to buy.”
She inclined her head. “That’s fair. I will before I leave tonight.”
“Pizza! I love it, Daddy.” Paige finally took her first bite of the spaghetti and scrunched up her face. She quickly swallowed her food, then took several gulps of her milk.
“What’s wrong, princess?”
“Nothing.” Evan’s daughter stared down at her plate.
He slipped a forkful of his creation between his lips and surprise flashed into his eyes. When he got the spaghetti down, he coughed. “Maybe we can drive into town and get some hamburgers at Prairie Springs Café. My treat.”
Since it looked fine, Julia was curious how bad the food tasted and put a small amount into her mouth. A salty taste exploded against her tongue and she washed it down with a long drink of water. “Just how much salt did you put in the water while my back was turned? You said it wasn’t a lot.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t think it was. I like salt.” Gesturing toward his food, he grinned. “Obviously, it was more than I thought. I must have been distracted.”
A blush stained her cheeks. “Now you know why salt goes a long way.”
“And then some,” he said and rose, taking his and Julia’s plate to the sink. “The good news is I don’t think the sauce tasted too bad.”
Julia crossed to the stove, dipped the wooden spoon into the red mixture and nodded. “Not bad at all. There’s hope for you. I’ll save this in your refrigerator. There’s enough here for another meal. You can pick up some more spaghetti while you’re at the grocery store. Just don’t put too much salt in the water when you cook the pasta.”
“You’re gonna trust me to do that without your watchful eye?”
“I’ll write the instructions down with your grocery list. I think you can follow simple directions.”
“I’ll help ya, Daddy.”
“You’ve got yourself a date, princess.”
Paige threw her arms around his waist and hugged him.
A lump formed in Julia’s throat. She’d wanted that for her daughter—a father who loved her. Instead he’d vanished one day, leaving only a brief note telling her not to bother looking for him, that he wanted nothing to do with being a father or a husband.
Evan pounded the nail into the board. The noise level was already loud, as the elementary school gym was crowded with parents helping to set up for the carnival the next day. But no Julia Saunders. He should know. He would catch himself looking around every few minutes, expecting to see her, then get mad at himself, more determined than ever to focus on building the booth he’d been assigned to by Olga. Then something would catch his attention and before he knew it, his gaze would wander to look for Julia.
Yes, they’d all had a pleasant evening last Sunday, enjoying a nice meal at Prairie Springs Café before going their separate ways. When he’d returned home, he didn’t even have anything to clean up. Julia had insisted on doing it before leaving for the café since he insisted on paying for dinner. He’d tried to talk her out of it, but she was one stubborn woman. She’d informed him she paid her own way and did her share of the work, always.
It was as if she was determined not to take anything from him. Why? Had she been burned like him? That had to be it or she would have been married to Ellie’s dad. Curiosity bubbled to the surface, but he immediately squashed it down. Two wounded souls had no business getting together.
“The carnival is tomorrow, not next weekend, Evan.” Olga planted herself in front of him, blocking his view of the rest of the gym. “And we only have eighteen hours until the doors open.”
“I’ll have it finished within the hour.”
“Good, because I’ve decided to add a petting zoo, especially after the success of the Show and Pet at the church picnic, and you can be in charge of it. Isn’t that perfect for a rancher?”
No, he thought. “In where? Here? There’s no room left to put another activity.”
“I listened to the weather today and tomorrow it’s supposed to be beautiful, so I thought outside, but you’ll need to make some temporary pens for the animals.”
Evan rose from kneeling on the floor and stretched. “Where are the animals gonna come from?”
“Where else? Your ranch. You have tons of them.” She flitted her hands near his face, her large turquoise bracelet with silver beads tinkling.
“I don’t have enough for a petting zoo.”
“How can you not? You have a ranch with horses and cattle.”
“Which aren’t easy for kids to pet. They’re too big.”
She tapped her finger against her jaw. “Then I will contact a few people I know who have some interesting animals and have them bring them first thing tomorrow morning. Can you get here by nine?”
He nodded, remembering the fiasco of her “Show and Pet” at the church picnic last week and all the incidents that Olga had conveniently forgotten. At least this time he was in charge from the beginning and hopefully could control the situation.
“That’s great. I will have an assistant for you. You will not be alone.”
As Olga scurried away, he thought the woman was too late. He was very alone. And that wasn’t likely to change anytime soon. That was the way he wanted it. Much safer.
He began to turn back to the booth he was constructing when he caught sight of Julia entering the gym. He paused and studied her. Her long brown hair appeared mussed, as though she had been running her hand through it repeatedly. Worry furrowed her forehead and dulled her eyes.
Before he realized it, his legs were chewing up the space between them.
Something was wrong.