A Texas Holiday Miracle (10 page)

“That’s the lazy way of cooking,” Angie told her.

“Don’t listen to her.” Peyton laughed. “She cooks everything the hard way. Really. I mean who does that? No one but Angie.”

The two were best friends, and Lacey knew they were teasing each other.

Angie handed Lacey the recipe. “Text or call me if you have a problem.”

“Thanks.” Lacey rose to her feet. “I better get Emma and go home. It’s been a long day and I’m ready to get out of these boots.”

“Crock-Pot,” Peyton called as Lacey walked out of the bakery.

Lacey smiled. It was nice to be around women near her age. She missed that connection she had in Austin. Every day life seemed to get a little better. She still had Christmas and Emma to worry about, but she was going to cook Gabe a delicious meal whether he wanted it or not. She might burn the house down doing it. The smoke alarm would save her, though. God bless that annoying little piece of technology. But who would save her from Gabe and her growing feelings for him?

Chapter Ten

The next morning after dropping Emma at school, Lacey went to the supermarket. She’d seen Angie at the school and Angie had given her more cooking advice. Angie had said the man at the meat counter could help Lacey select a roast. He did, and she took what he suggested. Emma liked mashed potatoes, so Lacey bought potatoes and a peeler. She was set for a day of cooking.

As she unpacked groceries, she could hear Gabe’s saw. It had been buzzing until late the previous night. He was determined to finish the tree.

Lacey laid out Angie’s instructions on the counter and went to work. With the roast browned on one side, she flipped it over to brown the other. Her cell buzzed and she fished it out of her purse. It was Janine, her former boss.

“Hey, Janine.” Lacey went into the living room and sat on the sofa.

“How are things going?”

“Pretty good. I have a roast in the oven.”

Janine laughed. “You’re getting domesticated.”

“We have to eat, so I’m trying to learn.”

“Why not come back to work and pay someone to cook?”

“I wish I could, but there’s no way I can leave Emma. I have to be here when she gets out of school. Besides, the drive every day would kill me.”

“Have you thought of moving back to Austin? We have a lot of good schools here, and you and Emma could start over.”

The thought was so tempting, but she pushed it aside because it wasn’t really what she wanted. “This is Emma’s home, and I don’t know how she would react to leaving all the memories of our dad. She’s still grieving.”
And so am I.

Janine sighed. “I gave it a shot. We’re so busy with the holiday season, and I could really use your help.”

“Sorry. I’m dealing with a little girl who doesn’t believe in Santa Claus, and that takes all my energy.” Lacey told her what had happened.

“I’m sorry, Lacey. I know you have your hands full, but remember to have some fun for yourself.”

The smoke alarm shrilled and Lacey jumped to her feet. “I gotta go. I’ll call you later.”

She threw the phone on the sofa and ran. The kitchen was filling up with smoke coming from the oven. Damn! The shrilling sound jabbed like sharp needles at her brain. She quickly turned off the oven and then removed her sneaker and threw it at the pesky thing. The alarm flew off and landed in the dining room. She picked it up and threw it out the back door. Opening the oven door, she coughed as smoke billowed out into the kitchen and dining room. Damn! Her dinner was ruined. What was she thinking? She couldn’t cook. She sank to her knees, slapped away an errant tear and had her own private pity party.

* * *

G
ABE
WAS
GOING
into his house for water when he heard the alarm. Not again. What was she doing? Unable to resist, he strolled over. As he neared her back door, the smoke alarm landed at his feet. He retrieved it from the dry winter grass and then opened the door. Smoke engulfed him.

He covered his mouth. “Lacey, are you okay?” He saw her sitting on the floor and went to her. “Lacey?”

“I burned my beautiful roast,” she mumbled. “It’s black. What’s wrong with me that I can’t cook?”

“Is it just the roast? Nothing else is on fire?”

She nodded and he took her arm and helped her to her feet. “Let’s get out of here until the smoke clears.”

As she limped toward the back door, he realized she had on one sneaker. Searching the kitchen, he found the other one on the counter. He opened the kitchen window and followed her out the door.

After taking a seat at her patio table, he handed her the sneaker and she slipped it on. She ran her fingers through her short hair and fluffed it. Even with tear trails on her face, she looked beautiful.

“I’m hopeless.”

“Have you never cooked?”

Her eyes narrowed, and he was expecting a whole lot of attitude, but she replied, “Not really.”

“Why?”

The eyes narrowed even more. “Don’t push your luck. I’m not in a good mood.”

“I’m just asking a question.”

“I liked it better when you were quiet.”

He leaned forward. “I know very little about you. Is your mother still living?”

She laughed, a bubbly sound that lifted his spirits.

“What’s so funny?”

She pointed a finger at him. “You wanting to talk.”

Their eyes met, and he felt a chink in that solid armor he’d built around his heart. To avoid further analysis, he asked, “Any brothers or sisters?”

She shook her head. “I was an only child until Emma.”

“A spoiled, pampered child?”

She closed her eyes as if giving it some thought. “Yes, mainly by my father. My mother worked a lot and still does.”

“It must have changed your world when Emma came along.”

She tucked her feet beneath her. “Not really. I wasn’t as spoiled as you might think. The thought of having a sister was exciting, and I loved her the moment I saw her. I couldn’t wait to leave work and come see her. And Mona was very good about letting me visit any time I wanted.”

“That was your stepmom?”

“Yes.”

She rubbed her jeans absently. “She only lived for six months after Emma was born, and I think she leaned on me a lot to care for Emma. Dad did, too. He had his hands full taking care of Mona. It was so sad. My dad deserved happiness, not what he got.” She brushed away a tear and Gabe’s stomach clenched. He wanted to take away her pain just as she had tried to take away his.

Before he could say anything, she continued, “My parents had a lousy marriage. They argued all the time. After nineteen years, my mom told my dad to leave and he did. It shocked her, I think. Anyway—” she waved a hand “—it was a bitter divorce and I was caught in the middle. My mother wanted me to hate my dad and I couldn’t. Now she wants me to hate Emma, and I can’t do that, either. Suffice to say, Mom and I are always at odds. I love her, but it’s hard dealing with her.”

“Where does your mother live?” He was caught off guard by the words coming out of his mouth, but he found he was curious about her.

“In Austin. She got our family home in the divorce. She wants me to come home for Christmas, but she doesn’t want me to bring Emma. That’s causing a lot of friction, because I can’t leave Emma.”

He’d never met anyone quite like Lacey. She had sacrificed her chance at a life so a little girl could have a home. The more he talked to her, the more he admired her.

“I’m sure it will work out.”

“You don’t know my mother.”

If she was that hard-hearted, Gabe didn’t want to know the woman. But then, he wasn’t in the mood to associate with many people. Lacey was an exception.

“So your mom didn’t cook?”

Lacey smiled a smile that rivaled the sun, and for moment he was lost in her charm. “Getting back to the cooking, huh? No, she doesn’t cook. My dad did all the cooking. Sometimes I would help, but he did all the major stuff. I just played. He was an awesome dad. I don’t know why he thought I would make a good mother for Emma. I’m terrible at it. Every day I feel like a failure.”

“Every parent feels that way. You never know if you’re doing the right thing. You just have to trust your instincts and your heart. When Za...” Gabe caught himself in time. He couldn’t talk about his son.

She looked up. “What about Zack?” He should’ve known she wouldn’t leave it alone.

“Nothing,” he replied sharply, hoping she got the message.

She stared at him, her green eyes soft and understanding, as if she knew what he was thinking, and she was urging him toward something he didn’t want but desperately needed.

Before he knew it, words tumbled from his throat. “When Zack would misbehave, my wife, Dana, always expected me to be the disciplinarian. And it killed me. I hated that part of being a parent. I guess if I had been sterner and not so lenient, Zack wouldn’t have...” He drew a deep breath and knew he had to say the words. He couldn’t just think them. “Za...Zack wouldn’t have disobeyed.” A wad of guilt burned his throat.

“What did Zack do?” she asked softly.

Gabe focused on a terra-cotta pot on the patio table. “When we got the four-wheeler, we sat down and made rules. Zack could only ride it on weekends when I was home. During the week he had homework and school activities. He agreed and I trusted him. I put the key in my nightstand.” Gabe drew another breath. “Dana always picked him up from school. She was doing some legal work for one of our neighbors. She left Zack to do homework and drove to their house to leave papers. When she returned, she couldn’t find Zack. She immediately called me and I came home. He’d found the key and had taken the four-wheeler for a spin. He’d turned it over, and I found him with the vehicle on top of him. His chest was crushed and...I pulled it off and carried him to the house. An ambulance was on the way...but it was too late. My son...was dead.”

Lacey slipped onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry.”

He sucked air into his tight lungs. “I think we’ve done this before.”

“You’re talking about it, and that’s good. It doesn’t help to keep it all bottled up inside.”

Her hand stroked his neck, and he lost his train of thought. The pain inside him ebbed and new, vibrant feelings emerged. She smelled of smoke mixed with a flowery scent that was all woman—a delicate fragrance that filled his nostrils and awakened needs deep inside him. His hand rested on the curve of her hip, and the urge was strong to move upward to her breasts, to feel their fullness.

“The smoke has cleared,” he said, getting to his feet. He needed to put distance between them. “Let’s check out the damage.”

She followed him inside. “This is my last attempt at cooking. From now on, we’re eating sandwiches.”

He opened the oven door. “You don’t seem like a person who gives up that easily.”

“How many times have you heard the smoke alarm?”

“Point taken.” He found a hot pad on the counter and lifted the pan out of the oven. Inside was a charred lump of meat. “How long have you been cooking this thing?”

“Not long.”

He placed the pan on another hot pad. “This is really burned. Maybe there’s something wrong with your oven.”

She smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand and he wanted to laugh, which felt good. “The oven. Why didn’t I think of that? Please let it be the oven.”

He closed the door and set the dial to two hundred degrees. They both stared through the little glass window. It was an electric stove, and the coils became red instantly. “Whoa. It’s heating up fast. That’s not normal. The thermostat must be broken.”

“Really?” Her voice rose with excitement. “Could that be the problem?”

“These houses were built about twenty years ago, and this is probably the original oven. A repair guy will cost a lot of money. It might be best to just replace the built-in oven.”

“This was Mona’s house, and when she married my dad, he replaced the floors, painted and did some updating. I don’t think he replaced the appliances. Maybe I’ll just buy a new one, but I’ll have to get someone to install it.”

“I’ll do it,” he offered. “If you’re free in the morning we can go to Temple and pick out a new one. I’ll measure it so we can get the right size to fit.”

“Thank you.” She reached up and hugged him, and he tensed. He couldn’t help that reaction. His feelings were all over the place and he had to take a step back. He didn’t want to cause either of them any more problems.

“Where’s your ladder? I’ll put the smoke alarm back up.”

“In the garage.”

It didn’t take him long to reinstall the alarm. He carried the ladder back to the garage and made his getaway.

He felt like a coward, running away, but that was all he could do at the moment. Lacey was too nice for him to hurt and he’d realized recently that soon he’d have to return to his old life. When that would happen, he wasn’t quite sure. Right now, he was enjoying the crazy lady next door.

* * *

L
ACEY
HURRIED
TO
pick up Emma. As soon as Emma walked into the house, she said, “Not again, Lacey. What did you burn?”

“It wasn’t my fault. We need a new oven.”

“You’re blaming the oven?”

“Yes, smarty-pants, Gabe said the thermostat is broken.”

Emma threw her backpack on the sofa. “I’m gonna go see Gabe.” Lately, Emma had dropped the
Mr.
from Gabe’s name, and Lacey saw no need to correct her. Emma and Gabe were now friends.

“Wait a minute. Gabe is busy working on the tree and you might be in the way.”

“I want to see if my flowers are still on Pepper’s grave.”

“Just stay a minute because you have homework to do.”

“’Kay.”

Emma shot out the door, and Lacey resisted the impulse to go with her. She wanted to see Gabe, too. But she’d sensed his withdrawal from her. She should give him his space. They were drawing closer and it was making him nervous. It made her a little nervous, too, but she found it exciting at the same time.

The evening went as usual. Emma complained about homework and about washing her hair, but eventually Lacey got her into bed. The morning came quickly. She dropped Emma at school and hurried home.

As soon as she pulled into the driveway, Gabe came over with a measuring tape. He got the serial number and make off the door, and then they were on their way to Temple. He insisted on going in his truck. She got the impression he didn’t trust her driving.

The truck was nice, with heated leather seats. In his other life, she realized he must’ve had money. As he was a lawyer, she could understand that.

“You can do a lot of things,” she remarked.

“I was raised with seven nephews, and my brother-in-law made sure we knew how to survive in this world.”

“What happened to your parents?”

She expected him to clam up, but he didn’t. “My dad left soon after I was born. He was a truck driver and traveled all over the States. He met my mom when he was passing through Horseshoe. Settling down wasn’t his thing. I met him for the first time about five years ago. I tracked him down. He had remarried three times after my mom. I was his only child, though. He lives on the Gulf Coast, fishing, these days. Even after all this time, he still wasn’t interested in being a father. We parted amicably.”