Andrew went out on the deck and stretched out on a lawn chair to enjoy the free time. It was chilly, but the air seemed to clear his head. A squirrel scrambled up the big oak tree, and birds chirped at the commotion. He should be thinking about desserts right now, but the only thing sweet on his mind was Kelly McIntyre. He was lucky she hadn’t slapped him for being too familiar when they’d been baking together. It had been seven years, after all, and the way he’d left, or rather had never come back, hadn’t exactly been a warm departure…but doggone if it didn’t seem like no time had passed since they’d been together.
Of course, Kelly wasn’t feeling what he was. He’d left her behind to chase his own dreams and never looked back. Could I have been more selfish? He could have handled things so much better. Then again, seven years of maturity made that much easier to see now.
Initially he hadn’t even really wanted to go to that pastry school, but it had been too good to pass up, especially if it might help him and Kelly meet their lofty goals quicker. Even Kelly had said so.
He’d had every intention of coming back when he’d left Bailey’s Fork for Paris. Somewhere in that six-month period of pastry school, he’d started believing that he couldn’t reach those goals without the skills he could only get in Paris under those experts’ tutelage. He’d never know if that was true or not. It was done now, and there was no changing it.
Leaving her this time would be harder, because he’d have to face her to do it. He wouldn’t be 4000 miles away over a telephone. For a fleeting moment he pictured himself going to say goodbye to Kelly, and her asking him to stay. A warm rush flowed through him at the thought. Would it matter if I stayed? She had his whole heart and mind in a state of confusion.
He took his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through the contacts. He still had her in the list, although he hadn’t dialed that number in seven years. He brought up her number. Maybe he could call to thank her again for last night.
But as he stood there with his finger over the CALL button, he just couldn’t do it. It was selfish when in just a couple of days he’d be gone again.
His phone rang and buzzed in his hand. He nearly dropped it trying to answer it. “Hey, sis.”
Dawn’s chipper voice came over the line. “I’ll meet you down at the barn in about an hour?”
“Text me when you’re on your way. You’re never on time.”
“I’ll be on time. Trust me.” She disconnected the call.
He shoved his phone into his pocket and walked back inside into the kitchen. Mom looked up from the table where she was drinking a cup of coffee and reading a magazine.
“I didn’t hear you get back,” he said.
“I figured you were still in bed asleep.”
“No. I made Dawn breakfast this morning, and she’s going to come back over and we’re taking the horses out.”
“That’s a great idea.” The color rose in her cheeks.
Seeing her so happy made him feel the same way. “You should come with us.”
“Not today. I’ve got some errands to run.”
“I’d say you’d have time to do them later, but you know Dawn. No telling when she’ll actually show up.”
“Dawn-time,” Mom said. “That’s one thing that’ll never change.”
“Do you mind if I rummage through the cabinets and freezer? I thought I’d make lunch to take with us.”
“Have at it. There are some of those flash frozen chicken tenders in the freezer, and ingredients for a decent potato salad. Fried chicken and potato salad would make for a good picnic that would fit nicely in the saddlebags. It won’t hurt my feelings if you want to leave me a plate,” she said with a wink.
“Deal.” He got right to work.
While he fried the chicken, Mom made herself comfortable at the island. “It’s so nice to watch you cook again.”
“Feels good to cook for myself instead of for customers.” He never cooked at home. “It’ll be nice to get on Doc again. I hope I remember what I’m doing.” He rinsed the chicken tenders and dredged them in flour he’d doctored up with the spices Mom had on hand.
“Let me know when you’re ready to go down to the barn, and I’ll help you get saddled up.” She’d been a competitive barrel racer when she’d met Dad. The barn was still her favorite way to spend time.
“That would be great. It’s been a while.”
“It’ll all come right back to you, and Doc is a great horse. He’ll treat you right.”
“No doubt about that.” The chicken sizzled in the oil.
“Your old cowboy boots are in the attic if you want to ride in them. All the boxes are marked.”
“Really? I can’t believe you didn’t toss all that stuff a long time ago.”
“Not mine to toss,” she said. “Besides, those were nice boots.”
“If I’d known I wasn’t coming back, I would’ve taken them with me.” He turned the chicken, and then dumped the boiling potatoes in the strainer in the sink.
“That smells so good, and you make it look so easy.”
“Practice,” he said.
“You’ve practiced your clean-up skills too. I used to cringe when you cooked here.”
“Yeah, that won’t fly in a restaurant. That was one of the first things I learned.” He laid the fried chicken strips on a paper sack to drain as he finished the potato salad. He took a plate from the cabinet and made a serving for Mom. Pleased with how it all turned out, and with time to spare, he turned to her. “I’m going to go hunt down those boots.”
“All your stuff should be on the right-hand side in the attic.”
“Thanks, Mom.” He went down the hall and pulled the string to the attic stairs. They creaked and groaned. He went to the hall closet where Dad kept the house tools and got what he needed to oil the hinges. One generous squirt, and the stairs were moving without so much as a moan.
Mom came down the hall. “You’re an angel. Do you know how long I’ve been asking your dad to do that?”
“Since I left?”
She laughed. “Not quite that long. But it’s been a while. Thank you for doing that.”
“You’re welcome. Here, you can put this back for me?” He handed her the can as he ascended the stairs.
Waving his arm in the darkness, he finally made contact with the old pull string that operated the single light in the attic, although it wasn’t much brighter with it on. The space was cold and smelled of dust.
Along the right wall tucked up near the eave were boxes with his name on it. Andrew Trophies. Andrew Clothes. Andrew and Kelly? He paused. Now why on Earth would Mom save that old junk? The box next to that one was labeled Andrew Shoes & Boots.
He grabbed that box and sure enough, his old cowboy boots, ostrich skin, were tucked neatly inside with newspaper stuffed in them to hold their shape. They’d been a Christmas present. He slipped one on. They still fit like a glove.
He folded the corners in on the top of the box and slid it back over where he’d found it.
The box with Kelly’s name on it taunted him.
He glanced at his watch. He still had a little bit of time before Dawn was supposed to be here, and if things hadn’t changed she’d be at least fifteen minutes late.
Walking toward the box, he questioned himself for even being curious. At the fork in the road, he’d made his choice. But rather than turning and going downstairs, he got the box and carried it over under the light. He sat cross-legged beneath it and pulled the tape that secured the top. It had lost its sticky over the years. Inside, his high school yearbooks were on top of a couple of photo albums Mom had made for him. Several spiral notebooks that held some of the first recipes he’d ever created were in the bottom. He flipped through them, impressed by some of the techniques and combinations he’d come up with at such a young age.
He turned to the inside cover of his yearbook. Some of the quotes were so cheesy.
Dude, no one trusts a skinny chef. Eat more junk or you’ll go broke. Your brother from another mother, Michael
I expect a chair in your restaurant with my name on it so I’ll never go hungry after tasting all your homemade lunches. I’m not tipping you though. Jordan.
Remember me when you’re a rich restaurateur. Carla
Andrew, You’d better invite me to the wedding. You’re the luckiest guy to have Kelly. She’s too good for you. Not going to be the same without you around here. Just one more year for me. David
Andrew— Go all Chef Ramsay on the world! Bobby
I kissed a chef, and I liked it! Here’s to our future together. Love, Kelly
Everyone had expected him to marry her, and wished him well on his own restaurant someday. Neither of those things had come true.
How many of them had done what they’d thought they’d do back in high school? Most of them were probably still right here in Bailey’s Fork. Kelly’s senior picture had a red heart around it. The yearbook was creased, as if he’d stared at that picture a hundred times. He probably had. She looked fresh and natural, and her confidence shone through even in that picture. Thinking about her, he could almost smell the fragrance of citrus and apple from the shampoo she used to use back then.
In the very bottom of the box there was another box. He opened it to find pictures of the two of them on their horses. At prom. A faded black-and-white strip of four pictures from the photo booth from the arcade. In the diner. In the kitchen downstairs making something, but mostly a mess from the looks of things. Four small frames held pressed fresh herbs Kelly had grown for him and framed as a gift on his nineteenth birthday. The actual plants had been behind the diner, where he could snip them for his recipes that day. Yellowed paper held more recipes the two of them had worked on together. Some had more scratch-outs than actual ingredients.
He flipped through them until he got to one all written in purple ink. She’d worked on it for weeks and couldn’t get it quite right. He’d thought it was perfect way before this final version, but she was going for something a little richer in taste. They’d spent an entire weekend messing around with this recipe. Finally, they’d added a little extra vanilla and he’d helped her come up with the mascarpone crème fraiche, and they’d made magic. She’d garnished it with thin slivers of almonds. He remembered that day so vividly, the way her hand had delicately sprinkled that final garnish across the top when she’d served it.
It was that day he’d been inspired and confident enough to really believe they would have the restaurant they’d always talked about.
And yet here he was seven years later, and he was still making someone else’s recipes in someone else’s restaurant.
He dropped the memorabilia back into the box and gave it a swift shove, sending it sliding across the smooth wooden floor of the attic. Enough of that.
Downstairs he changed into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt with his boots, then went to the kitchen to box up the picnic lunch. He grabbed two apples from the fruit bowl for the horses. “You sure I can’t talk you into riding with us?”
“You and Dawn will have fun. The creek trail is gorgeous right now.”
“We may as well go saddle up the horses so when Dawn finally gets here, we can go.” He put their lunch in a bag and walked with Mom down to the barn.
As they neared the barn, the horses frolicked and nickered, happy to see them.
“You already had your breakfast,” Mom scolded the horses as she pulled the chain on the gate to get enough slack to unhook it. She waved an arm in the air. “Get on back.”
The horses sauntered away as she swung the ten-foot gate open.
Andrew slipped his fingers under Doc’s halter, a big bay gelding standing sixteen-three hands. He was tall to get on, but anyone could ride him. A babysitter horse, Mom had always said.
Gentle as could be, Doc dipped his head, letting Mom rub his nose.
“Doc’s happy to see you,” she said to Andrew.
“Come on, old buddy.” He reached up and rubbed the side of his neck. “Best friends forever.”
The horse snorted.
To his surprise, Dawn came riding up on her horse, Gabby. “Thought you’d never get here,” she teased.
“I thought you were going to call when you got here.”
“Thought I’d surprise you instead.” She pulled on Gabby’s reins and spun the golden palomino in a tight circle. “I’m waiting on you for a change.” Gabby tossed her flaxen mane.
“Show-off.” Andrew threw the saddle on top of the blanket on Doc’s back. The shiny bay used to be a competitive header horse. He’d been retired early after his cowboy got injured. He was a good horse with a less-than-competitive demeanor these days.
It didn’t take long to get Doc tacked with Mom’s help. He tucked the food into the saddlebags, then put his foot in the stirrup and lifted himself up onto Doc’s back.
“You good up there?” she asked.
“Your mothering is showing,” he teased. He shifted in the saddle side-to-side. “Fits like a glove.” He tugged low on the reins and clicked to move Doc back a few steps, then caught up with Dawn.
“You still look good up there,” Mom said. “A natural cowboy.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” he said in a southern drawl while tipping his imaginary cowboy hat. He let Doc move at his own pace.
“Have fun.” She waved as they rode across the field.
When they reached the back gate that led to the creek trail, Andrew dropped down from his saddle and opened the back gate, letting Dawn lope ahead. He was perfectly happy to take it slow and soak in the beauty of the North Carolina landscape again.
He’d forgotten how different things looked from another five feet in the air. The world felt more open from up here in the saddle.
He sucked in a lungful of the fresh, pure air.
Although winter was in full swing, the abundance of evergreens in this area made it still feel lush. He brushed his hand through the thick pine needles that hung heavy from the trees along the trail. The pungent aroma of pine released into the air around him, reminding him of Christmases past. He wiped the sticky residue from the pine tar against the horn bag on the saddle.
Doc snorted. “It’s good to be with you again, Doc.”
It didn’t take long for Andrew to relax. “I’ve missed this.” Andrew loosened his grip on the reins and let Doc pick his own path. As a kid he’d wandered these trails on horseback and on foot, pretending to live off the land and hunt for secret treasures.
Dawn waited for him. “It’s nice having you around.”
“It’s been a good trip. I can’t believe it’s already half over.”
About fifteen minutes of riding through the tall pines and bare hardwoods, the tension in Andrew nearly disappeared. It had been a long time since he’d felt this way. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. As he loosened up, Doc did too.
Since it was early February, there were no bugs to contend with, and the mild temperature was like no weather at all. He pushed his sleeves up. The sun was warm against his skin. Birds chirped above, as if asking what he’d been up to all this time, and that was exactly what he was thinking about. He’d accomplished a lot, but a lot of it wasn’t what he’d set out to do, either.
Dawn eased her horse down the bank toward the creek. Here the river rock was smooth and the water was never too deep unless they’d had a rainy run of weather. The familiar cluck and clop of the water being sucked from below by the pounding hooves was as soothing as rain on a tin roof, loud and mellow all at the same time.
Water splashed from Gabby’s hind legs, sending icy-cold water up Andrew’s leg and the side of his face.
“No fair.”
“I guess you forgot the rider in the back is the one who gets the wettest.”
“Payback is coming,” Andrew yelled as he dodged another splash. Then he spurred Doc and blew past her, leaving her in a wake of icy-cold water.
She shrieked. “Okay. We’re even.”
They pulled the horses up onto the bank.
“You got me good,” she said, still laughing.
“I’m not as out of practice as you thought,” he teased.
The echo of horse hooves clopping through the creek rose from up the way. “Think that’s Mom?”
Dawn shook her head. “No. Wrong direction. She’d be coming from that way.”
They waited, not wanting to spook the horse or splash a neighbor.
Andrew twisted around in his saddle, pulling a bottle of water from his saddle bag, when he heard his sister say, “Look who’s here.” Only her tone seemed a tinge too surprised to be authentic.
When he looked up and saw Kelly riding toward them on a black-and-white paint, he was even more suspicious of his sister’s innocence. Then again, if Dawn had arranged for Kelly to show up, he wasn’t mad about it. He hadn’t had the guts to make the call himself.
“Hey again,” he said to Kelly.
He wanted to believe that her pulling back before had been because she was feeling those same old feelings too, but was that disappointment on her face now?
“Hi?” It came out more like a question, and from the way Kelly was looking at Dawn, he’d lay good money that his dear sister was behind this little run-in.
“Andrew made lunch,” Dawn said. “Perfect timing.”
Kelly looked confused. “Okay.”
Dawn turned Gabby and took the lead down the creek trail. Kelly fell in right behind her, and Andrew took up the rear.
As Kelly rode along, her ponytail bouncing from the hole in the back of her ball cap, it was as if time had turned back ten years with that first step into the creek.
He couldn’t hear what Dawn was saying to her, but when Kelly laughed, he caught his breath at the familiar sound. Her shoulders lifted, like they always had when she was amused, and he didn’t have to see her to picture her smile.
They rode along quietly for about forty-five minutes, and then Dawn turned up the trail toward the old barn.
He dismounted and tied Doc while Dawn and Kelly chatted next to the barn. He unpacked lunch from his saddlebags. Here behind the barn there was just enough wind block to make it feel like a spring day.
“Oh!” Dawn grabbed for her phone. “That vibration always scares me. Let me take this.” She held up a finger and turned her back from them, walking away as she spoke into her phone.
“Great ride,” Kelly said.
He nodded. “Been a long time since I’ve ridden.”
“You looked comfortable enough.”
They’d just sat down under the tree when Dawn came back over. “You’re not going to believe this. The plumber is at my house. I totally forgot he was coming today. I need to zip back over there and meet him.”
Andrew could read right through that lame excuse. He was sure Kelly could too.
“I’m so sorry.” Dawn was already getting back toward Gabby.
“You’d better run. They charge by the hour,” Kelly said.
“Sorry again.” Dawn made the fastest exit he’d ever seen.
They watched her lope off.
“I have a feeling we’ve been duped.” He offered Kelly some potato salad.
“Thanks.” She scooped some on her plate. “Your sister isn’t that good of an actress.”
“Tell me about it. She’s good at fooling me into things, though.”
“Apparently, she fooled me too,” Kelly said.
She took a bite of the potato salad. “This is good. Very different.”
“Thanks.” He set his plate aside. “Do you remember the day I carved our initials in that tree?”
“Of course I do. You broke the tip off the pocket knife I’d given you that Christmas.”
He’d forgotten that part. “It was after a ride along the creek like this morning.”
“I remember. Only it was cold as the dickens. We wore our winter coats.” She pulled her feet up under her. “The whole town was so mad about you defacing that tree.”
“Because no one can keep a secret around here.”
“You shouldn’t have told all your buddies.”
“They were blabber mouths.”
“It turned out to be front-page news,” Kelly said.
“Yeah, but in all fairness, even when Mrs. Jones made her husband sleep in the shed it was front-page news.”
“True. Besides, how were two teenagers supposed to know that tree was a registered landmark?” Kelly laughed. “There wasn’t even a sign next to it back then.”
“I kind of knew it was a big deal. That’s why it seemed like the perfect way to profess my love.”
She plucked a piece of grass and toyed with it.
“I did community service that whole summer because of that, and had to work for Dad part-time for six months to pay back the fine.” It had been worth it. “Man, that feels like a hundred years ago.”
“Feels like just yesterday to me,” she said quietly. “Lunch was really good. Not that I’m surprised. You always could whip up an amazing meal.” Kelly put her plate in the trash bag and tilted her chin to the sun. “I love winter days like this.”
“Me too. I’m sorry Dawn tricked you, but I’m glad we got to spend more time together.” He turned over on his side, watching her sitting there with her eyes closed.
“It’s been a nice break. I had some help last night, so I had some free time.”
He tossed a pebble into her lap. “Must’ve been a pretty awesome helper.”
The rock startled her. She looked at him, amused. “You could say that.” She flipped the pebble back toward him.
“I think I will.”
“You’re too much. Thanks for the lunch.”
“You’re welcome. It’s the least I could do after I ate half of your pot of chili.” He reached for her hand, and this time she didn’t pull back.
“I’ve got to head back.”
Andrew let his thumb graze the top of her hand. “Can’t you stay a little longer? It’s a gorgeous day.”
“I can’t.” She took in a deep breath, then withdrew her hand. “Do you remember the way back to your mom’s?”
“Yeah, I can get there.” If I’d kept my mouth shut, she’d have probably ridden all the way back home with me. He stood and extended his hand to help her up.
“Thanks.”
“For what?” She brushed the back of her pants.
“For reminding me there’s a whole lot more to life than work.” Andrew helped her get on her horse.
“You’re welcome then.”
Andrew coaxed Doc to stand still long enough that he could get a foot in the stirrup. Every time he got his toe in, Doc would take a few steps, leaving Andrew hopping alongside.
“You know I’m out of practice, don’t you, old man.”
The horse lifted his nose in the air, then Andrew finally got back in the saddle. His muscles warmed to the physical activity, especially after the long plane ride.
He worked the reins to make Doc side pass, which he did with no hesitation, proving Andrew was the only one out of practice. Doc was one jam-up horse.
Finally, Andrew rode over toward Kelly. Their two horses offered familiar snorts.
He looked at her. As beautiful as ever. Still the nicest woman he’d ever known. So much had changed since he left, and the best parts were just the same. I’ve got some priorities to get straight.
Kelly nodded as if she’d read his mind. “Thank your sister for the ride for me,” she said, then kicked her heels against her horse and took off in a lope down the road toward her house.