Nicole Foster - Hallie's Hero

Hallie yearned to say no. While she knew it was stupid of her not to rest her backside and properly tend to her injuries, a small, jealous part of her didn’t want to give up any of her responsibilities at Eden’s Canyon to Jack Dakota.

Still, turning him down seemed more spiteful than anything. And she did hurt enough to cringe at the idea of standing up to fix supper and then sitting down to eat it.

“Okay,” she said reluctantly. “This once, my kitchen’s all yours.”

Jack nodded and held the door open for her, watching as she slowly and painfully made her way to her room.

He supposed he should feel good about winning their latest battle. But he was left with the uncomfortable sensation that he’d done more damage to Hallie’s dignity than he’d helped to heal her wounded backside.

“I can’t believe I rode the biggest one. Can I do it again tomorrow?”

Hearing the excitement in Ethan’s voice, Jack turned from the griddle on the stove to see his son come into the kitchen, glued to Tenfoot’s side.

“You must have talked your way onto one of the horses,” he said, smiling at his son’s happy grin.

It struck him that he’d never seen Ethan smile like that, and Jack found himself wishing from somewhere deep inside that it had been he, and not Tenfoot, who had put that smile on his son’s face.

“You should have seen me,” Ethan said. “I was ridin’ that big brown stallion all around the corral, wasn’t I, Mr. Tenfoot?”

“Just like you were born to it,” Tenfoot answered. His eyebrows arched up as he took in the sight of Jack, a dishcloth slung over his shoulder, flipping eggs at the big black cast-iron stove. “Looks like your pa got himself a new job while we was out. Don’t think I’ve ever seen the likes of you in this kitchen in my thirty-odd years here.”

Jack didn’t have time to explain as Charlie and Eb came in behind Tenfoot. Instead of taking their usual seats at the table, they, too, stopped to stare at Jack.

“Don’t wait to be invited. Come on in and sit down,” Jack ordered, waving them in with his spatula.

Serenity, working with Ben to get the table set, put a pile of plates into Ben’s hands and let the men get settled as she went to fetch the platter of ham.

“Where’s Hal?” Charlie asked, eyes narrowed as he looked around the room.

“She had a little run-in with an unfriendly cactus today,” Jack answered over his shoulder, “so she’s resting.”

“Rest? Hal?” Eb shook his head doubtfully as he took his usual seat at the far end of the table. “That don’t sound like her. She ain’t dead, is she?”

Jack smiled to himself as he remembered Hallie and him together. “She’s about as far from dead as anyone can be. Don’t worry, she’ll be back in the saddle tomorrow. But for tonight…” he bent to pull two trays of king-size biscuits from the oven “…I’m doing most of the cooking. And since the only thing I can cook worth eating is breakfast, breakfast it is tonight. How do you want your eggs?”

The men sat in silence while Jack searched their faces, one by one, for a response. At last Ben lifted his plate and handed it across the table toward Jack. “I’ll take four, fried on both sides.”

Jack reached for the plate. “Done.”

One by one, hunger got the better of the others, and they surrendered their plates as well. As they ate, the tension in the room relaxed and Jack found it easier to ask them about the day’s activities.

Even Ethan opened up enough to tell him a little about his ride on Tenfoot’s horse. And he also managed to put away his share of eggs and ham.

Jack filled the biscuit basket for the third time, and Big Charlie reached for them before the basket hit the table. Glancing to the doorway and lowering his voice, the burly cowboy muttered, “Don’t be giving me away to Hal, but I gotta say, these are some of the best durned biscuits I ever ate.”

Eb, his mouth crammed with ham, nodded in agreement, giving Jack the first real sense of gaining ground since he’d come.

“I won’t tell her because then she’ll be having me in the kitchen all the time,” he teased. “I’d better save a few for her, though.”

“I’ll take her a plate,” Serenity said, shoving away from the table.

“No, I’ll do that,” Jack replied in a tone he knew she wouldn’t question. “Ben will stay and help you clean up, won’t you, Ben?”

“Me? Wash dishes?”

Serenity turned her sweetest smile on him. “You can dry, Ben. I’ll do the washing.”

He flushed from foot to forehead, and a round of raucous laughter filled the kitchen. When it died down, Jack turned to Ethan, who sat as close to Tenfoot as space would allow. “How was your supper?”

Ethan didn’t look up from his nearly empty plate. “Strange havin’ breakfast for supper.”

“Well, I guess it’s better than an empty belly.” Jack didn’t press Ethan any further. The fact that the boy had said anything to him this evening was progress. “I’m going up to give Miss Hallie her supper. When you’re done, go on to your room and wash up. I’ll come in a little while and check in on you for the night.”

Crumbling the last bit of his biscuit between his fingers, Ethan only nodded.

Jack ignored Serenity’s doubtful look as he pushed away from the table and went to fix a tray for Hallie. Charlie and Eb leaned back as they finished the last dregs of their coffee.

“Not half-bad grub fer a tenderfoot wrangler,” Eb offered as he put down his cup and got to his feet.

Charlie nodded in agreement.

As they ambled out to the bunkhouse, Jack decided that was one of the best compliments he’d ever had.

Jack balanced the tray on one hand at Hallie’s door and knocked lightly at first, then more firmly when she didn’t answer. He waited a few more moments before deciding to risk going inside. She was probably sleeping, but he didn’t want to leave without making sure she hadn’t taken a turn for the worse.

Slowly, he eased the door open and stepped far enough inside to get a good look at her bed, expecting to see Hallie curled up in a nest of faded quilts and pillows. She wasn’t there.

Typical of her, Jack thought, as he stalked back down the hall to the kitchen. Why should he be surprised at anything the bullheaded woman did?

Serenity met him at the door, glancing at the untouched tray. “Is she all right?”

“She’s gone,” Jack said shortly. He handed her the tray. “Where would she go this time of night?”

Chewing at her lower lip, Serenity hesitated, then said, “Maybe to the barn. She’s been worried about that colt, the one Ethan’s been helping with. But you probably shouldn’t—”

“You’re right. But shouldn’t is what I do best. Besides, someone’s got to talk some sense into her,” he muttered on his way out the back door. “She doesn’t have any business being out of bed.”

She didn’t have any business being in bed. Unable to lie there and stare at the walls a moment longer when there was so much to be done, Hallie had gotten up and made her way to the barn as soon as she heard the men come in for supper.

She’d checked on the horses, then gotten down the currycomb to take to the orphaned colt’s stall to brush his curly coat.

The familiar rhythm and simply being alone with the animals soothed her. She was comfortable here, at ease with the feel and smells of the sturdy cedar-wood building. It was one of the few places she didn’t feel awkward or out of place.

She loved the earthiness of it, the fresh scents of hay and corn, the soothing whinnies of the horses, the low moans and shuffling about of the milk cows. As she continued currying the colt, she absently hummed a soft little tune in time with the motion of her hands.