Mindy Obenhaus - Rescuing the Texan's Heart

“The kitchen?”

Her mother whirled her back around. “Not until you’ve greeted our guests, you don’t. Now, go.” She all but shoved Taryn across the wooden flooring in the foyer.

Taryn hugged Scout a little closer. And so it begins.

“My goodness, Cash...” Her mom’s arms went wide as she approached. “It’s so good to see you again.”

Taryn kind of felt sorry for the guy when her mother embraced him like a long-lost son. She had to hand it to him, though. Cash didn’t look the least bit taken aback by the welcome. “It’s nice to be here. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Nonsense.” Her mom released him. “You’re like family.”

“How’s it going, Cash?” Her father stepped forward to shake his hand.

“Just fine, sir. Thank you.”

“There’s Gage,” her mom continued.

Taryn’s second brother waved from the adjacent living room, then gestured to the four-year-old in his arms. “This is my daughter, Emma, and—” he pointed to the golden-haired girl who had already latched onto Mr. Jenkins’s hand “—that’s Cassidy over there.”

Cash acknowledged them with a smile and a nod. “Girls.”

Randy snagged Amanda around the waist and inched her closer. “This is my wife, Amanda.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” She held out her hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Cash took hold. “All good, I hope.”

“For the most part.” Amanda and Randy exchanged a playful, loving glance. One that always made Taryn wonder if there was someone in this world who could love her like that. Completely and unconditionally. As though she was the only one who mattered.

“This is our son, Steven.” Randy hoisted the five-year-old into his arms.

“Hey there, champ.” Cash held up a high-five and Taryn’s nephew smacked it.

Everyone laughed, drowning out the basketball action blaring from the fifty-inch flat-screen in the living room.

Her mom grabbed Cash’s arm, turning him ever so slightly. “And here’s our little Taryn, all grown up.”

Everyone standing in front of her parted like the Red Sea, adding to her mortification.

Repeatedly stroking Scout’s wiry fur, she fought the urge to run screaming from the room as all eyes shifted to her. Including Cash’s.

His knee-buckling smile made it impossible to move, though. “Yes, we met earlier.”

Heat singed her cheeks, a rare occurrence for someone with her olive complexion. Still, she would bet that her cheeks were as red as the cherry jelly beans she’d bought to give to her nieces and nephew on Valentine’s Day.

“Oh...?” Interest sparked in her mother’s eyes. No way the woman with a penchant for matchmaking was letting that one sail by unnoticed.

“She brought some desserts over for Gramps. Which—” his attention shifted back to Taryn “—were really good.”

Mr. Jenkins cleared his throat. “Speaking of food, it sure smells good in here.” He shot Taryn a stealthy wink. At least someone had her back.

“Taryn makes the best stew you’ve ever tasted,” her mom boasted. “And her rolls are positively to die for.”

“Wait till you see the table decorations.” Desperate to shift the spotlight to someone else, Taryn continued, “Mom really outdid herself.”

Her mother half-heartedly waved off the compliment. “Oh, I just threw a few odds and ends together, that’s all.” Her gaze flitted to the dining room on the other side of the foyer. “But it did turn out quite nice.”

“Sounds like the Purcell women are a talented lot.” Cash’s gaze settled on Taryn, sending another wave of heat surging up her neck.

Unfortunately, she had not inherited her mother’s flair for decorating. She could probably manage a decent grouping of candles, but her mom knew how to make things look perfect.

“You simply find a way to cover up the flaws,” she always said.

Nuzzling a squirming Scout, Taryn thought about all the flaws in her life. The ones she’d worked so hard to cover up since returning to Ouray. Perhaps she was more like her mother than she thought. She had more scrapes and scars than the old hutch that was the focal point of Mom’s new kitchen.

She set the wiggling pup on the floor, wishing she, too, could escape.

“Phil, why don’t you take their coats while I get our guests something to drink.” Her mother’s attention shifted between Cash and his grandfather. “How about some hot spiced cider?”

“Cider sounds great, Mrs. Purcell.”

“There’s no need to be so formal, Cash. Call me Bonnie.”

“A hot drink would be just dandy.” Mr. Jenkins handed his jacket to her dad.

Six-year-old Cassidy caught her grandmother by the arm. “Nana, can you help me find the checkers so I can play with Mr. Jenkins?”

Her mom cupped Cassidy’s chin. “You bet, punkin’.”

Watching the tender exchange, Taryn couldn’t help wondering if her mom would have accepted—

She shook her head. No, her mother had made it perfectly clear.

No daughter of mine will have a child out of wedlock. If you ever do that to me, I’ll disown you.

Taryn understood, though. After all, her mother grew up as the illegitimate child of a scarlet woman. The last thing she wanted was to be the talk of the town.

“Taryn, honey—” her mother’s voice jerked her from her thoughts “—would you be a dear and get those refreshments while I help Cassidy?”

What? And hide from inquiring minds?

“Two ciders coming up.” The aroma of fresh-baked rolls made her stomach growl as she drew closer to the kitchen. She washed her hands then grabbed two mugs from the refurbished hutch, recalling how decrepit and unsightly the piece had been when her mother found it on somebody’s curb. Actually, it wasn’t even a hutch. More like someone’s old pie safe. But with some new glass and a couple coats of red paint...

Yep, Bonnie Purcell knew how to dress things up, no matter how battered and beyond help they seemed to the untrained eye.

But Taryn wasn’t a piece of furniture. She clutched the mugs to her chest and crossed the kitchen. If her mother ever learned the ugly truth of Taryn’s time in Texas, she’d be deemed unsalvageable. Which is why no one could ever know.

Lifting the lid on the pot of mulled cider, she savored the scent of cinnamon and cloves before ladling the steaming drink into the mugs.

“It smells great in here.” At the sound of Cash’s voice, she jumped, sending the metal ladle crashing to the floor. “Whoa. Hey. I’m sorry.” He knelt beside her to retrieve the utensil. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She set the lid back into place, determined to regain her wits before looking at him. Though the woodsy scent of his cologne wasn’t doing much to help.

“I’m all right.” Retrieving the dish towel from the counter beside the stove, she wiped a drip from the first cup before handing it to him. “And if anyone needs to say they’re sorry, it’s me.” She took the ladle from him and dared to meet his puzzled gaze.

“You? Why?”

“I wasn’t the friendliest person earlier today.” She glanced past him to make sure no one else was coming. In particular, her mother, who would, no doubt, misconstrue their being alone in the same room.

“Taryn, I’ve met plenty of unfriendly people in my time and you are not one of them. A little flustered maybe.”

Flustered? He thought she was flustered?

“That’s what I get for teasing you, I suppose.”

“Teasing?” She dropped the towel on the counter, rinsed the ladle in the sink.

“About you following me and Randy around.” He sipped his drink. “Mmm. This ought to warm me up. It’s freezing out there.”

Her brain quickly retraced their earlier conversation.