“I hope it doesn’t cause problems with Audrey and your family,” Raelene said in a low voice.
“My mama used to say that everything works out the way it’s supposed to,” Grace said.
“I hope she was right,” Raelene said.
“You enjoy your breakfast, and this afternoon we’ll get you settled into your new room.” Grace patted her hand and then headed back to the kitchen, with Sarah right behind her.
“Is that as good as a convent or boot camp?” Sarah asked.
“Pretty dang near,” Grace answered.
Chapter Two
Claud, Ira, and Frankie were the first in the shop, as usual, on Saturday morning, despite the rain pouring down. They removed their yellow slickers and hung them on the line of hooks to the left of the door and set their cowboy hats on the empty table next to theirs. Grace filled three mugs with coffee and was rounding the end of the counter when several more customers arrived. Then a tall man with dark hair pushed his way into the shop. He set his umbrella by the door and then headed over toward Claud and the other guys’ table.
Grace got a little zing when she looked up and saw him. There was something about his smile when he saw the older men, and the pure joy in his expression at seeing friends. But that wasn’t anything compared to the immediate attraction—something she hadn’t felt in many years.
“This is crazy,” she muttered. “I don’t even know this man.”
“Travis Butler!” Claud exclaimed and pushed his chair back. He met the man halfway across the room for a handshake that turned into a hug. “Come on over here and sit with us. We ain’t seen you in a month of Sundays.”
“Been a minute, hasn’t it? I saw your trucks parked out here and figured this had to be the home of the famous doughnuts you used to bring to the ranch when I was a kid.” Travis’s deep drawl boomed all over the shop—which had gone quiet as soon as he walked inside.
“Bring another cup of coffee, Grace. We’ll share our doughnuts with Travis while we catch up,” Claud said.
Grace arranged a dozen doughnuts in a box and set it on a tray with a mug of coffee, a handful of tiny containers of cream, and a couple of packages of sugar. Then she added four forks, a fistful of paper napkins, and four saucers, and carried it to the table.
“I want to introduce you to a friend, Grace,” Claud said. “This is Travis Butler. His granddaddy and all of us served on several committees together for the Texas Cattlemen’s Association. Holt used to bring Travis with him to the conferences, so we’ve known him since he was knee-high to a grasshopper.”
“I don’t think I was ever that short.” Travis smiled up at Grace.
“Pleased to meet you,” Grace said and set about unloading the tray. Another spark of attraction flashed, and she wondered where and why such feelings were hitting her now, after all these years. Perhaps the way the shop had fallen silent when he entered reinforced it.
“Pleasure is all mine.” Travis’s smile widened, and chatter picked back up around them. “Claud and these fellows used to bring a couple dozen of these pastries to the conference. Granddad and I always looked forward to getting them. What’s your secret?”
Ira chuckled. “Her great-granny started this place, and believe me, there ain’t enough money in the state of Texas to make her give up that recipe.”
“Are you sure about that?” Travis teased as he reached into the box and brought out one with chocolate icing.
“As sure as anything or anyone can be. It’s written in my mother’s will that we cannot sell the recipe. And trust me, it would be impossible to mass-produce our doughnuts, anyway,” she told him.
He took a long drink of his coffee. “Why is that?”
“Because we make them from scratch. We do not buy the usual premix for the dough, and we make them in small batches—somewhere around two to three dozen each time, depending on whether we leavethe middles uncut so we can fill them with our own special cream cheese mix or fruit fillings, or cut the holes out,” she answered. “But all that is a moot point since I cannot sell our recipe, and I wouldn’t even if we could.” Grace took the tray back to the counter.
Then she went to wait on the two women who currently held the top position on her shit list. Her first instinct was to ignore Carlita and Lisa after what they’d said about Audrey not being friends with their hooligan daughters, but Macy would tell her to take the higher ground and be nice. Crystal’s mother and Kelsey’s mother had grown up in Devine and were Sarah’s age—both had always been the town’s biggest gossips—and now seemed to be reliving their teenage years through their two girls.
“What can I get y’all this morning?” Icicles dripped from Grace’s tone.
“We’ll have four maple doughnuts and two cups of decaf coffee,” Carlita said with a fake smile. “We like having our coffee here... and now that we understand each other—”
Grace cut her off by throwing a palm up so close to her nose that Carlita had to take a step back. “We don’t understand each other at all. I’ve told Audrey repeatedly that your girls were trouble, and I didn’t want her hanging out with them.”
“Why would you say that?” Lisa asked. “Our girls have been good enough to take your child into their group.”
Grace lowered her hand. Arguing with these two would just bring her down to their level. “Yes, they did, and they should be grateful to have her.”
She walked away, filled their order, and took it to them. Then she picked up a full coffeepot to take to the men’s table to refill their cups. “I wondered if y’all would be out in this nasty weather,” she said as she gave each of them a warm-up.
