For two days, Bonnie stayed home and baked pies. Single men kept dropping by unannounced, making her wonder if Mama had put out an ad. If Bonnie wanted them to leave, she had to be polite, and look busy. So, she baked until they left, taking a pie with them.
It helped that baking brought her back to a pleasant time in her life. Before her father died. Before she felt responsible, even in some small way, for her mother. And before she realized that perhaps the only way to make a real difference was to follow her heart and pursue acting.
The scents of peach, apple, pecan, the crusts buttery and flaky, wafted through the small cottage. The entire kitchen was covered in flour dust as she rolled out crust after crust. Dropped them carefully into pie tins, pinched the sides in place. The peach filling was thick, sugary sweet and she shoveled gobs into each pie.
“I appreciate the donations to the bake sale, but you can take a break now,” Mama had said just this morning before leaving for work. “Go into town and have lunch with one of your many suitors.”
Bonnie had simply smiled, shook her head, and waved her away as she danced around the kitchen, listening to music through her ear buds.
She happened to enjoy the repetitive work because it relaxed her. Her mind flowed freely when her body was physically engaged with a task. This morning it had been Chris Stapleton and ABBA, but now, she listened to Angela’s podcast for the first time.
“Don’t let anyone say you can’t make more money than your husband or significant other. It’s a girl’s hang-up to accumulating wealth. A barrier. There has to be a mind shift. I used to believe I couldn’t possibly make the same amount of money my father did. Believe me, I had flawed thinking. I’d put up my own obstacles to financial freedom. No man can give you true financial freedom. That’s come got to come from you, girl.”
Bonnie wished someone had told her this a decade ago and maybe she wouldn’t have felt so guilty about wanting to be successful. About wanting her own life, and her own money. She rolled the next crust a little too thin as she took out some of her frustrations out on the pliable dough. Even Mama, who’d been the recipient of Bonnie’s heard earned money, had once mentioned that she shouldn’t ever make too much money, or a man wouldn’t necessarily want to marry her. So, it was good to be a working woman, so long as you didn’t out earn your partner. Because, God forbid.
Flawed thinking.
Bonnie rolled up the crust into a ball and pounded it a few times with her fist.
Stone Ridge was a bit of a throwback to the old-fashioned days but there were women here now like Winona, and Eve, Jackson’s veterinarian wife, who probably did well operating the only clinic in town. Bonnie wished Angela would consider moving here to help bring their few older women into the new millennium.
Or maybe you can do that.
Sure, she could, but everyone here knew her only as Bonnie Lee Wheeler, Maybelle and Buck’s daughter. Sean Henderson’s ex. The “actress.”
She went to Hollywood, don’t you know. Never came back. She’s gone full tilt L.A. Uh-huh.
Well, damn it, she’d posed for a major ad campaign at nineteen, performed in numerous theater productions to acclaim, acted in a popular series, and one low budget independent film short listed at the Cannes Film Festival.
Please! She was so much more than Sean’s ex-girlfriend.
“Today, my guest is Tabitha Eden, a neonatal intensive care nurse from Atlanta. Now, we are not going to discuss anything related to Mr. Cowboy because we all signed non-disclosure agreements. Tabitha, welcome to Girl, you Should be a Millionaire. What’s your financial health score?”
Hey, what about Bonnie? She had a few things to share on financial security, such as there wasn’t any in show business! Get used to living on one paycheck for months until the next one comes. Sometimes, you simply pick the wrong business. One of financial insecurity. She wondered what kind of advice Angela would give Bonnie.
Girl, you better quit show business.
Okay, this was too depressing. Bonnie shut off the podcast and went back to ABBA. She danced around the kitchen, putting another pie in the oven and setting the timer, all while singing her heart out.
Dancing queen, feel the beat of the tambourine. Oh, yeah! You can dance…
Bonnie sensed more than heard someone behind her, but before she turned, firm hands were on her shoulders. She startled and whipped around to find Sean giving her a slow smile. Slowly, she wiped her hands on her apron and removed one earbud which paused the music right in the middle of the best part.
He hooked a thumb toward the door. “Door was cracked open.”
“Was it?”
“With a taped sign.” He held up a piece of paper for her to read.
In Mama’s neat cursive writing, Bonnie read:
If you’re a gentleman caller, come right on in and stay awhile. Bonnie Lee is baking pies and she could sure use a distraction.
“Are you kidding me right now?” She snapped it out of Sean’s hands. “Um, you’re not supposed to be here.”
“Who said?”
“The rules, for one.” She removed the other earbud.
He wasn’t angry anymore and then she remembered: no matter what, Sean couldn’t stay angry at her for long. Nothing had changed there, and she added it to the list of steady and reliable parts of her life. Sean would always, always be her friend.
And even if she had to stand up for him at his wedding to another woman, damn it, she would be there for him.
“We already broke one rule, what’s another?” Sean reached out and tweaked her nose, then held up his finger. “Flour.”
She brushed off her nose and pointed. “We c-can’t do this. You can’t be here. I’m supposed to stay away from you.”
“No one said I had to stay away from you.”
Oh good, more flawed thinking.
But he looked so amazing here in her little kitchen, looking every inch the cowboy. He wore jeans, a flannel shirt unbuttoned to reveal a black T-shirt underneath, his ever-present hat, and work boots. His jaw and chin were dusted with a day or two’s worth of beard stubble. Sean was famous for forgetting to shave, she was certain because he knew how women loved beard stubble.
“You need a break from baking pies.”
She squinted her eyes at him. “What did you have in mind?”
“For starters, I want to show you my cabin.”
“But—”
“Hang on.” He held up a palm in the stop sign. “Technically, I’m not dating anyone right now.”
“Oh, right. I guess that’s true.”
“No more group dates, no more ridiculous cocktail parties. Just you, me and catching up.”
“That totally makes sense. I don’t think anyone would fault us.” She was already untying her apron and shutting off the oven.
“Unless you’d rather bake but honestly, it’s been a beautiful September so far. You don’t want to miss the rest of it by staying inside.”
“I thought I was going to see your cabin.”
“Quick tour, then we go outside.”
Even better. She couldn’t be seriously tempted by him if they went outdoors, could she?
“Well, what’s it going to be?”
“Fine, I’ll come, but you have to take a pie.”
A few minutes later, Bonnie stood in front of the cabin she’d seen only once before. This time, she took it all in with the benefit of daylight. She wondered if Sean had hired a landscaper. Colorful flowers like bird of paradise and columbine were strategically placed, giving the house what a realtor friend once referred to as “curbside appeal.” A young pecan tree, a live oak, and a magnolia tree surrounded the home.
And of course, the beautiful wrap around porch, empty of any swing or chairs.
“It looks much better than it did in the dark.”
Actually, she thought the landscaping had decidedly feminine touches. She waved her hand. “Did your ex-fiancée help with all this?”
“No, Winona helped. I didn’t start building until after Robyn broke off the engagement.”
So, she’d broken it off. Not Sean. Otherwise, he’d be happily married and raising his two point five children, no doubt.
He opened the front door he’d left unlocked and waited for her to walk inside.
“Also, there’s a dog.”
“A dog?”
“Beer.”
“No, thanks,” Bonnie said, stepping inside. “It’s a little early for me.”
Sean chuckled when a black and white sheep dog hopped off the couch and ran to meet them.
“No, that’s Beer.”
She stopped so quickly Sean bumped into her. “You named your dog after your favorite beverage?”
“I found him and his siblings on the side of the road in an old wood Miller Lite crate.”
“Oh, poor baby.” Bonnie squatted to pet the dog.
“Thanks, it was rough going there for a while, but I found homes for all of them.”
She smirked. “I meant poor baby Beer. What a rough beginning.”
How classic of Sean to rescue abandoned dogs. Dogs. Wild horses. One of the things she’d loved most about him hadn’t changed.
“Had I known you had a dog I might have felt safer about coming inside the other night,” she admitted, rising to meet Sean’s gaze.
He slid her an easy smile. “Why? Beer’s a great wingman. He knows when to disappear.”
“Don’t go anywhere, Beer.” She patted Sean’s chest. “I don’t trust this guy.”
It was the wrong thing to say. She might have had less of a reaction if she’d stabbed him with an ice pick.
“You don’t?”
“I’m kidding,” she said, even if there was a smidgen of truth to the statement.
It wasn’t him she didn’t trust. It was her heart, and what it might do if it had wings. “I don’t trust myself around you.”
“Yeah, makes more sense.”
“Okay, mister, don’t let Mr. Cowboy give you a big head.”
He ignored that. “Want a tour or you want to keep yakking?”
“A tour would be nice.”
“C’mon, Beer. Let’s give the lady a tour.” Beer trotted behind Sean. Sideways.
“You must sound ridiculous calling him inside.”
For the next few minutes, Bonnie watched an alternate life play before her eyes. Her possible future. This might have been the home she’d be living in, had she made different choices.
Upstairs, three bedrooms and a master one with an attached bathroom and a sunken tub she’d guessed Sean had never used. The home was modest, but also didn’t hold back on anything. Downstairs, the kitchen was state of the art with granite counter tops and blonde cabinets to match.
Would she be baking in this big home, too, or wiping running noses and changing diapers? More importantly, how would she and Sean be doing? Still crazy in love or on each other’s last nerve because she’d given up on her dream? Would he love her or resent her for getting a faraway look in her eyes and secretly wanting to be somewhere else?
Don’t think about any of that right now. Just be in the moment.
Still, the past stood between them like a solid brick wall.
“Let’s go outside.” Sean held open the slider leading to the backyard.
He didn’t have any fencing and land seemed to stretch ahead of them for miles. The beautiful green and gold of Hill Country. Beer ran ahead, yarking, chasing after some critter or another.
“He loves it here,” Bonnie said. “Look at him go.”
“Runt of the litter on his second life. Dogs aren’t like cats with nine lives. They only have two.”
“Two?”
“Just like people. Why do you think they’re man’s best friend?”
“Sean, we only get one life. Not two.”
“I realize that, Skippy. Read between the lines. I’m talkin’ about chances. Two chances in life.”
“Only two?”
“If you’re lucky.” He offered his hand to her.
Together they walked hand in hand, following Beer and his silly puppy antics. He chased after the fluffy white tail of a wild rabbit, then gave up and went for a bird that had the audacity of landing on his pasture.
“Sean? Tell me why didn’t it work out with Robyn. I mean, you were engaged, and I know you don’t take that sort of thing casually.”
“She didn’t think I was ready to commit.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! Did you tell her you were ready to commit at eighteen?”
“Not ready to commit to her,” Sean clarified.
Her stunned heart slammed against her rib cage. “Oh. Oh.”
He gave her a sheepish look from under lowered lids. “It was a mistake. I rushed into things. Just wanted to get on with having a family, building a life. It doesn’t work that way.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“What about you? Did any man ever come close to stealing your heart?”
“Other than you? No, I was career focused for years. I dated some here and there, but mostly actors. They were the only men I ever met.”
“What about Edwin? Did you love him?”
“Eric. And no. As a friend, sure I did. Don’t laugh, but I sort of took care of Eric. Took him under my wing. He was so hapless at times, kind of like a lost puppy.”
“Jolette Marie reminded me how even though you said you never wanted kids, you were always looking out for her and those younger than you.”
She stopped in her tracks. “Wait a second. I never said I didn’t want kids.”
“Okay, sorry. I thought—”
“I didn’t want children when I was twenty-three. That doesn’t mean I didn’t want them at some point. I just…I thought it would be before now. It didn’t work out, I guess.”
“I’m an idiot.”
“Why?” She squeezed his warm hand.
“I pushed you into making a choice. I should have waited and been patient.”
“Oh, Sean. It wasn’t entirely your fault.”
“Can you tell me for sure we wouldn’t have wound up together if I hadn’t broken up with you? If I hadn’t stopped taking your calls and waiting for you to come home?”
“But you were right in many ways. I failed to put you first and that’s important in a relationship.”
He didn’t answer, but kept walking, holding her hand, keeping an eye on Beer.
“Hey, buddy. Beer! He doesn’t usually go that far ahead of me. Something must have his attention.”
Bonnie laughed. “I was right. You sound silly calling him. Beer! Come here, I need you! Please be cold when you get here.”
“Ha, ha.” But Sean let go of her hand to walk a few paces ahead. “Ah, there he is just up ahead.”
No sooner had Sean spoken than the unpredictable Texas sky opened up and dumped a deluge of water.