“My mom loves it. Sorry, I swear I’m not a mama’s boy. She lives near Seattle. When Dad died, she struggled with keeping up the house and everything. I built this when I purchased the land, thinking she’d move in here. She declined to live with me, stating no woman wants a man wholives with his mama. But she usually comes down for dinner once a week.”
“What’s wrong with showing a little love for your parent? I’m close with both of mine and my brother. We lived in a farmhouse in Indiana. My dad planted corn, and I loved riding the tractor,” she informed him.
He plated the bruschetta. “Open your mouth, Scarlett. I don’t want you to get tomato or olive oil on your bandages.” Ty moved between her legs and held something close to her lips. They parted, and he held the toast while she took a bite.
Scarlett’s eyes closed, and she slowly chewed, savoring the flavors. He watched, almost mesmerized, imagining her in his bed with the same expression on her face.
“May I have another bite?” she asked softly. “Did the tomatoes come from your garden? They taste fresh, and you toasted the bread to perfection.” He brought it to her mouth again. When she swallowed, he used his thumb to wipe away the oil at the corner of her smile.
“Do you prefer shrimp or chicken?” he asked.
“I like both. Surprise me. Every time you do, I always come out the winner,” she said.
“I’m making Tuscan shrimp pasta,” he told her as he moved toward the stove, pulling the faucet from the wall and adding hot water to the pasta pot. He pulled the fresh shrimp from the fridge and the spinach when he noticed Scarlett grew quiet.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, refilling her drink.
“Pasta’s a bit difficult to eat. I have a hard time figuring it out on the fork,” she admitted, her smile disappearing. “I don’t want to embarrass myself.”
“Will you forgo pasta forever?” he asked, leaning on the counter beside her.
“No. This still feels new, and I’ve learnedsome foods can be messier than others. I’m sorry, but I did promise to tell you honestly.”
“Instead of shutting it down. Tell me how you feel. Do you like pasta and shrimp?” he asked gently.
“I do,” she said, nodding uneasily.
“Then, let’s think about ways around the problem instead of going without. I know this happened to you recently, and you’re still on a learning curve. If you ever saw me cook, my jacket resembles a paint palette by the night’s end. How about I cut your pasta? Then, you don’t have to worry about the fork?” Ty suggested feeding her another slice of the bread.
Her nose scrunched, making her appear annoyed. “I don’t like depending on people.”
“Let me ask you something. How many people did you save during your tour in Afghanistan? It seems your buddies, Sledge and Rocker, leaned on you. During your brief time at the community center, did families rely on you to ensure they received frozen casseroles to feed their kids? Most importantly, Edie, Barb, and Debbie counted on you to get out of the apartment building with those precious babies. Can you tell me why it’s not all right for you to receive a helping hand?”
“You make me sound like a hero. I chose the Air Force and did my job like all the other veterans on Serenity Mountain. I can’t take credit for those lovely casseroles. The three grans made them with their loving hands for people in need. As for the last, I didn’t manage to save Debbie after all the kindness she showed me.”
A single tear ran down her cheek, and Ty brushed it away with his thumb.
“It’s funny how I moved people, missiles, and called in the cavalry at my job. Yet, I couldn’t help one woman,” she confessed guiltily.
“No. Sparky, you know you can’t save everyone. But you rescued four kids and two seniors out of seven people. Not to mention, you went into the apartment literally blind. Don’t carry the weight on your shoulders. The person responsible for the fire deserves the blame.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome. Now I can feed you the pasta since you have a burned hand, and I saw you holding it to the glass,” Ty said. “Have you taken anything for pain?”
“Only acetaminophen. I forgot to take it this morning before Kassie arrived.”
“I have a bottle in my cabinet. Since we’ve established you’re hurting, I’m feeding you. By the time we eat, your meds will kick in, and then we can ride out and see the ranch,” Ty reasoned, while he shook two tablets out and handed them to her.
“What do you have on this place of yours? I heard you raise cattle, and obviously, you have horses,” she said, relaxing.
“I have a lake stocked with fish, an herb garden, and beautiful sunrises and sunsets,” he said, brushing her bangs from her eyes.
“It sounds lovely. How do you work this all by yourself?” she asked, reaching for her drink.
“I have six men to handle the cattle, and Maria and her daughter come once a week to clean the house,” he informed her.
Her eyes widened, and she batted her eyes in shock. “Wait a minute, Ty Bradshaw, the man who raises his own beef and runs a restaurant can’t clean?”
