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“WOW. HE GAVE YOU A Stetson.” Pam lifted her gaze from the satin interior of Mari’s new hat. “He must like you a lot.”
“Are Stetsons expensive?”
“They aren’t cheap,” Jonathan said. “But it’ll last for years. It’s a good investment.”
“An investment in my staying on as his ranch hand.” Mari raised one shoulder in nonchalance. “That’s all it is.”
“A man doesn’t—”
“Well, that is a good investment.” Jonathan shot a speaking glance at his wife. “Travis doesn’t want all your training going to waste. So, did you enjoy riding Mischief?”
Mari jiggled Maddy in her arms and cooed her answer to the baby’s sweet, curious face. “Oh, it was so incredible. We walked around the arena a few times and then Travis had her trot a little. He showed me how to take the saddle off and rub Mischief down. Next week, he said Mutt will take me riding outside.” Her brow crinkled, but she kept her tone light. “I have a better understanding how much it bothers Travis not being able to ride his horses.”
“I’m impressed by his patience,” Pam said. “The old Travis would’ve sawed off that cast weeks ago.”
Mari glanced up. “The old Travis?”
“The one I knew throughout school and his rodeo days. He and his cousin Willie got a little wild sometimes. Nothing too crazy. Those cute dimples got him out of a few scrapes. He turned serious once he got his own ranch... I wonder if seeing Spence remarry is giving Travis ideas of getting hitched himself.” Pam ignored Jonathan as he cleared his throat with emphasis. “He likes you, Mari. Do you like him?”
Mari didn’t hesitate. “Yes. I do. He’s a good friend.”
Her best friend.
“Well, he’s a good man to have in your corner,” her cousin said. “Let’s talk about our work schedule at the café for the next two weeks. It might get crazy.”
***
THAT WEEKEND PROVED Jonathan right. Crazy wasn’t the word, but it ended on a high note in more ways than one.
Two weeks until her wedding, and Sage’s head was in the clouds. She’d agreed to accept pie orders for Mother’s Day—six lemon meringues and ten lemon chiffon—all scheduled for pick up between noon and two o’clock on Saturday afternoon. But it seemed she couldn’t stay focused.
For the first time since Mari started working at the café, the odor of burning pie crusts seeped from the kitchen. Customers sniffed the smoky air; apprehension rumbled throughout the room. Then a frustrated wail filtered through the swinging door. “Oh, sugar! I forgot to set the timer!”
Mari cast a concerned look at Jonathan where he stood at the griddle flipping pancakes. He shook his head. What could they do? Danny had a soccer game in Big Timber later that morning; Sage told them Spence and his daughter were planning to watch the game. Could Gunnar come in? Mari would have to ask Sage for his number. Or, how about Shawna? She’d starred in a cooking show; she could help. Mari reached into her apron pocket for her cell phone.
The front door chimed.
“Gigi!”
Near pandemonium ensued as everyone in the café called greetings to the seventy-something woman with bottle-red hair who stood at the entrance. Several people got up from their tables, blocking Mari’s view as they bombarded the woman with hugs. Then a pair of skinny arms rose from the huddle. “Oh, my! Okay. Let me catch my breath!”
Hands flapped in shooing motions, and the crowd dispersed. Twinkling brown eyes magnified by purple-framed glasses surveyed the room before resting on Mari. “Hi, there. You’re new. You must be Mari.” She strode forward and took Mari’s outstretched hand in a strong grip that belied the outward frailty of the woman’s birdlike frame. “I’m Gigi Renard.”
“Wow,” Mari said with relief. “Talk about perfect timing. Sage could use your help.”
Gigi sniffed the air, her nose wrinkling. “I can smell that. Well, here’s one more time providence is working in that gal’s favor. Sage! Your rescue has arrived!”
The boisterous shout elicited an ecstatic scream from the kitchen. “Gigi?” The swinging door burst open. Sage’s tear-stained face shone with joy. “Oh, my gosh. I didn’t expect you until next week!” She rushed around the register counter and into the older woman’s arms. “What a blessing. I was seriously considering calling it quits. How wonderful to meet you in person at last.”
Mari’s eyes dampened at the emotional exchange. She’d gathered enough details about Gigi Renard to have a specific image of the woman engraved in her mind: a tough, no-nonsense Montana woman with a heart as big as the sky. Gigi was all that and more.
With a final hug and a pat on Sage’s back, Gigi took charge. “Everything will be fine. Let’s go bake some pies. I’ve missed that kitchen.” She tossed a smile at Mari. “I look forward to chatting with you. Viv’s told me so much about you.” She chortled at Mari’s wincing expression. “All good things.” Then she waved at the onlookers. “I’ll catch up with everyone at the wedding, if not sooner.”
A new energy buzzed through the café, equal to the sunny day outside. People loitered over coffee to chat with their neighbors. New customers arrived and got brought up to speed on the latest news. Gigi Renard was back in town. Too bad Viv hadn’t been there to witness that grand entrance, someone tittered. Someone else must have phoned Viv, because she arrived twenty minutes later, all aflutter, and scurried to the kitchen.
Mari concentrated on the customers. Shortly before eleven o’clock, Chey Little Wolf walked into the café. She hadn’t seen him since the night at the Hideaway. Fresh guilt knotted her heart. She smiled a greeting. His reciprocal smile didn’t light his eyes the way it used to. He took a seat at the counter.
She approached to take his order. “How’ve you been?” she asked in a friendly manner.
“Good. You?”
“Busy. I’m working seven days a week now.”
He nodded. “Good. Soon you’ll have enough money to rent a place. You still planning to do that?”
“In about three months. As soon as Maddy Rose sleeps through the night. That’s Pam and Jonathan’s baby girl.”
“I heard.” He glanced at the menu. “I’ll have the Cattleman’s Special and a cup of coffee.” He directed his attention to Jonathan. “Congratulations. How is it being a father?”
Mari wrote up the order while the men conversed. She clipped the order ticket to the holder and then made her way to the booths to wait on new customers.
In a corner of her mind, she questioned if the affinity that once existed between her and Chey would ever return. It didn’t seem possible. It appeared she’d bruised his ego. At least he hadn’t ignored her just now. With all her heart, she prayed he’d find a good woman; he’d made it clear he wanted to settle down soon and raise a family. In her opinion, it seemed unlikely he’d find that woman while working on a remote ranch.
Shawna sailed through the door. She waved at Mari. “Where’s Gigi?”
Mari aimed her thumb at the kitchen.
When Mari entered the kitchen a while later to plate some pies, she found the four women seated around the butcher block drinking coffee. Sage wore a serene expression. “Isn’t this great?” she said to Mari. “I didn’t know what a huge weight I had on my shoulders until Gigi showed up. And, guess what? Gigi’s taking charge of the café for the next month. Tomorrow’s my last day here.”
Mari smiled. “I hoped something like that might happen. I had a dream last night about burning pies and angry customers. Weird one of those things came true.”
The women laughed.
“I was so embarrassed,” Sage said. “For six years, I bragged about my baking skills to Gigi, and when I meet her in person at last, the kitchen’s filled with smoke.”
Gigi patted Sage’s hand. “You never bragged. And that’ll be a funny story to tell your children.” She watched Mari plate the pies. “It looked busy out there. You managing okay? I can wait tables.”
“No worries. It’s a slower pace on Saturdays. People don’t mind the wait.”
“I understand you’re working for Travis Hollister. How’s that leg of his healing?”
“Seems to be okay. He’s seeing the doctor next week, and the cast might come off then. The doctor said six to eight weeks.”
“He wants to dance at my wedding,” Sage said. “I told him it didn’t matter. Even if his cast is off by then, he has at least three months of physical therapy to get his leg back in shape.”
Mari shared Sage’s concern; it would wreck her if Travis rushed things and re-injured his leg. “I’ll make sure he does nothing stupid.”
Focused on her task, the sudden quiet in the room didn’t register for a few moments. Puzzled, she stared at the women’s riveted faces. When Viv opened her mouth to speak, Shawna said, “Travis and the Farris brothers sure are lucky to have your help.” She turned to the others. “Mutt Farris came by the Reading Room last week and spoke to me for the first time ever when I asked him how he was. He said, ‘Just fine. That Mari Jones is a mighty fine cook.’ I almost toppled out of my chair.”
“He talks to me all the time,” Mari said.
“Well, I never,” Viv said, hand to her chest. “Mari Jones, you are a wonder.”
***
MARI LAUGHED AS SHE shared Viv’s remark with Jonathan and Pam during dinner that evening.
“Wow, you’ve really won her over,” Pam said. “Even more since you found out her son isn’t a candidate for town drunk.”
“I’m surprised she hasn’t harped on Elaine Stevenson,” Jonathan said. “Thought she’d have that sweet lady run out of town on a rail by now.”
“It’s a trade-off, I bet,” his wife said. “She can’t risk Elias taking off and leaving Lou high and dry at the gas station.”
Maddy Rose gurgled from her portable crib set up beside Jonathan’s chair. He reached down to tickle her chin. Several minutes passed before he returned his attention to his dinner. He shared a contented smile with his wife. When Pam nodded, he turned to Mari. “There’s something we want to ask you, cousin.”
Mari gave him her full attention.
“Tomorrow’s Mother’s Day. I think that’s a hard day for you.”
“I try not to let it be.” Maybe this year it would be different; there were too many positive things happening in Mari’s life to dwell on her mother. And after the cleansing tears and confessions shared with Travis, memories of her mother didn’t weigh as heavy anymore.
“We planned to ask you tomorrow,” Pam said. “But we decided now is best. We want the first thought in your head when you wake up tomorrow to be...” She grinned. “You tell her, Jonathan.”
He reached across the table to take Mari’s hand. “We want you to be Maddy Rose’s godmother.”