Читать книгу His Unexpected Return - Jessica Keller - Страница 15

Cassidy lifted the stiff curtain and peeked out the window in her small office located on the side of the dining hall. From her vantage point, she spotted a lone figure near the row of growing camper cabins. It was past dinner, past quitting time, but he was still out there.

Had been all week.

For four of the last five days, he had worked from sunup to sundown, and the one he hadn’t worked like that he had been gone from the ranch. The first time he had put in a thirteen-hour workday she had thought he simply wanted to make a good impression on everyone. But then he had done it again and again. He worked with every ounce of his strength until he dragged himself to the Jarrett family home each night. Rhett had told her they were now five days ahead of schedule thanks to Wade’s dedicated efforts.

She let go of the curtain and watched it fall back into place.

It was the second time Wade had skipped dinner that week.

Without giving her actions much consideration, Cassidy left her office and headed toward the kitchen. Workers needed to eat. That’s all there was to it. It didn’t matter who he was. Their history didn’t factor into her actions.

She automatically snagged a plate from the cabinet, then headed into the walk-in fridge. Cassidy piled a large piece of fried chicken, brown sugar cowboy beans, buttermilk and chive whipped potatoes, and a few cornbread muffins onto the plate. At the last minute, she remembered Wade had always had a soft spot for seafood so she wedged a generous chunk of pan-seared snapper next to the chicken. She tossed everything into the warmer to heat while she gathered an insulated jug, a mug, silverware and napkins and set it all in a basket.

Back in the walk-in fridge, she fetched what remained of her homemade blackberry lemonade to pour into the insulated jug and two of the caramel brownies she had tucked away for later. She dashed back to her office and picked up a little note scribbled in uneven letters on pink paper. Cassidy’s eyes clouded over as she read the sweet words Piper had scrawled there for Wade. No doubt someone had helped her spell out everything, but the giant letters were from Piper’s heart. Cassidy prayed Wade wouldn’t break it. She ran her thumbs over the paper before tucking it into her back pocket.

When the plate of food was warm, she carefully wrapped it in foil and set it in the basket with some pot holders. Satisfied with the meal, she hauled up the basket and headed outside.

Cassidy was more than halfway down the hill when she started having second thoughts.

What would Wade make of her offering?

She clamped her fingers tighter around the basket’s handle. Wade was doing hard manual labor in the hot sun and was no doubt hungry. He would be of no use to the ranch if he passed out or got himself injured. She could set aside their personal baggage because a hard worker not eating didn’t sit well with Cassidy. She was the head chef, after all. It was basically her job to make sure everyone at Red Dog Ranch had the nourishment they needed in order to keep up their stamina.

There was zero reason for awkwardness.

She was simply doing her job.

Though she had never packed and carried out a basket to a lone worker before.

Nor noticed who had eaten and not eaten.

Or how many hours one of the ranch hands put in on any given day.

Cassidy straightened her shoulders. She had never noticed because no one else was reckless enough to skip meals. People tended to look forward to her cooking, so she had never had to entice someone to turn in for the day. That’s all this was. Her actions had nothing to do with whom she was bringing food to. It didn’t matter that it was Wade.

Maybe it mattered a little.

Cassidy adjusted the basket, moving it to rest against her other hip.

The back of Wade’s gray T-shirt was wet with sweat as he swung his hammer. His shirtsleeves were the snug kind that hugged his biceps. Wade was stronger than she remembered—much more filled out than the twenty-year-old lanky boy who had kissed her goodbye when he left for an ill-fated fishing trip. The years had chiseled his muscles and built his work ethic.

Cassidy stepped into his line of vision and he stilled. Set his hammer down on the platform.

“Everything okay?” His eyes searched hers. “You okay?”

They hadn’t spoken since their conversation by Sheep and Romeo’s enclosure. Cassidy had sent Piper to stay with some friends who had kids Piper’s age to play with, but the few times Piper had been on the property, Wade hadn’t tried to make contact with her behind Cassidy’s back. He had respectfully waited for Cassidy to make a move.

“How come you’re still out here?”

He propped a hand on the framing he had been working on. “There’s still work to be done.”

“That’s what tomorrow’s for.”

He shrugged. “If there’s still light to work by, might as well keep at it.”

“Is this some twisted sort of penance? Because you know you don’t need to do that.”

He pressed off the framing and cocked his head. “Don’t I?”

The question was best left ignored. She didn’t need to get into deep conversations with him.

Cassidy lofted the basket. “I brought you food.”

He raised an eyebrow. The left one.

“A man’s gotta eat.” Suddenly self-conscious, she set the basket on the platform near where he was standing. “When you’re done, you can leave the dirty dishes right inside the dining hall and I’ll deal with them in the morning.” She started to turn away but Wade caught her arm in a light hold.

“Stay with me.” His voice was a soft caress.

She stared down at the hand on her arm. His work glove was rough against her skin.

He offered a hint of a smile. “It would be nice to have some company.”

If she stayed, she could bring everything back to the kitchen afterward and deal with any leftovers instead of letting them be ripe in the morning.

“Alright.” Cassidy slipped away from him and turned her attention on the basket. Setting things up, taking care of others, these were the things that calmed her. She found comfort in the simple action of laying out silverware and pouring drinks. She lifted the plate out and started to fill a cup with the lemonade.

Wade tugged off his work gloves. “You don’t have to serve me. That’s not what I meant.”

She motioned toward a relatively clean patch of plywood. “Sit. You’ve been on your feet for at least twelve hours today.” She started to hand him the plate but froze. A patchwork of black and purple blisters covered both of his hands. Some of his fingers had patches of skin that were completely ripped open. Blood had dried along his knuckles. “Oh, Wade. That has got to hurt.”

Wade fisted his hands and let them drop to his sides. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

She placed his food on the plywood, then turned and seized his wrist. She yanked his arm so she could see his hand but he kept his fingers fisted tightly.

Cassidy sent him her best don’t-mess-with-me-I’m-a-mom look. “You either open up this hand or I’ll pry your fingers open. It’s up to you how this goes down but I win either way.”

Wade flinched as his fingers unfurled. A large blister on his palm oozed a shiny liquid. Without a word, Cassidy let go of him and started packing everything back in the basket.

“What are you doing?” Wade’s brow bunched.

“Come on.” She jerked her chin. “Up to my office.” She held up a finger. “This isn’t a discussion. Unless you want me to call Rhett out here—and you know he’ll give you a piece of his mind and then some if he sees your hands like this—you’ll follow me.” Cassidy started up the hill.

Wade chuckled and followed after her. “Yes, ma’am.”

She led Wade into her office, where she scooped up all the papers on her desk and set them in a pile on top of her file cabinet. Cassidy pulled the food out of the basket again and motioned for him to take the comfortable desk chair. Wade required zero encouragement to dig in. He had tucked through most of the food in the time it took her to find her first aid supplies. She would have to remember to move them to a more accessible spot for the future.

Wade glanced around as he finished the second brownie. “What do you do in here?”

She shrugged. “Menu planning, research nutritional information or recipes when we have people with different dietary needs. And mundane things too—like ordering supplies, updating the spreadsheet with best-by dates, managing the kitchen staff when we have enough people to warrant one. Schedule volunteers for dish crew.”

He looked up at her. “I’m proud of you—of all you’ve accomplished.”

“I cook food.” She blew her hair out of her eyes. “It’s not exactly earth-shattering stuff.”

“Well, for starters, you cook amazing food. This—” he pointed at his empty plate “—was the best food I’ve had in months. You beat out the chefs on most of the luxury boats I worked on.” He got to his feet and loaded everything into the basket again. “But it’s more than that, Cass. You’re more confident than before. You’re more you—or who you were always supposed to be—if that makes any sense.”

How dare he talk like that, as if he knew her, as if he cared. As if he saw her truly, better than anyone else ever had.

He trailed her as she made her way to a sink located near the food-prep area. A sign marked the sink for hand-washing only. There were others meant for food. Cassidy eased the basket from his grasp and set it on the counter. Then she took his hands and placed them under a stream of running water.

“Rinse. Wash well with the soap.” She opened a drawer and drew out a clean towel. “Then we’ll blot them dry.”

Wade obeyed her instructions. He used his elbow to turn the water off and then stepped her way, his hands cocked at a ninety-degree angle as water dripped down his forearms. He looked like some doctor in a TV drama scrubbing in for surgery. She suppressed a smile at the thought.

Cassidy hopped onto the counter and reached for one of his hands. She gently pressed the towel against it, making sure not to rub or scrape the blisters.

“Thank you,” he said. “For everything.”

She blew hair out of her face again, then stilled when his finger traced along her cheek, up over her ear. A featherlight touch as he tucked her hair away for her. The trail where his finger had grazed flamed with sensation.

She tugged his hand away from her cheek, setting both of them palm up on her knees so she could disinfect the area with alcohol wipes. Plenty of the blisters had popped, leaving his healing skin open to infection.

His eyes stayed on her face as she worked. “Cass?” He waited until she met his gaze. “I’m sorry. If I could take back everything, I would.” He swallowed a few times.

She looked away. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re alive.”

He smiled fully for the first time since he had been back. His eyes crinkled at the corners. “It’s worth a whole lot. I was starting to think you liked me better when I was dead,” he said.