The Cowboy's Easter Family Wish. Lois Richer

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СКАЧАТЬ Bible, Mom. ’Cause I have Cocoa. An’ there’s a roadrunner that goes past our place, too,” he told Jesse with an eagerness she hadn’t seen—maybe ever? “An’ sometimes coyotes howl. An’ Mom feeds hummingbirds.”

      “Wow.” Jesse looked impressed.

      “So I guess I kind of am Ark Man?” he said, obviously seeking confirmation.

      “Absolutely.” Jesse held up his hand to high-five, and Noah matched it. Both of them wore goofy grins.

      Maddie stared at her introverted kid. This change—because of Jesse?

      “So, to make these treats you need big marshmallows and some caramels,” Jesse continued.

      “I’ll find some.” Noah raced away before Maddie could stop him.

      “I’m sorry. I’m interfering without even asking you,” Jesse said after a quick glance at her. “I’ll go get him.”

      “Please don’t. It’s the first time Noah’s been that excited about anything since...ever.” Without thinking, Maddie put her hand on Jesse’s arm to stop him, then jerked it away when her brain repeated Noah’s strangers-forming-a-relationship fact.

      No relationship for her. Never going to get hurt again.

      “I warn you. If this recipe of Emma’s involves baking, it will be a failure.”

      “It will?” A puzzled look darkened his blue-eyed gaze. “But it’s simple.”

      “Maybe, but I can’t do simple baking,” Maddie admitted. “Actually, I can’t do complicated either,” she added, eyes downcast in a rush of shame. “I’m not a good cook.”

      “She’s not,” Noah agreed solemnly, having returned with a huge bag of marshmallows. “Ninety-nine point nine percent of her cooking burns.”

      “Noah!” Maddie exclaimed in embarrassment.

      “Fortunately, this recipe requires no cooking. Just melting.” Jesse glanced at the marshmallows, then raised an eyebrow at Noah. “Caramels?”

      “Couldn’t find any.” Noah looked dejected. “I guess we can’t make the snacks.”

      “You can always make I Have a Dream snacks, Ark Man. One hundred percent of the time.” Jesse’s firm tone had the strangest effect on Noah.

      “Okay.” His boyish shoulders went back and his face got a determined look that Maddie had not seen before. “How?”

      “We find caramels because they’re the best part. And we need cream.” Jesse beckoned. “Come on, you and I will check it out. They have to have them somewhere. Every self-respecting grocery store carries caramels.”

      “I didn’t know that.” Noah tucked the information away.

      A bemused Maddie trailed behind the pair, accepting the pint of cream Jesse handed her as she worried about where this was going to lead. To disaster probably, and not only for Noah. Melting meant heat, which meant burning, which meant...

      “Here we go. Crazy section to stock caramels in.” Jesse plopped two packages into Noah’s arms. “Let’s make sure we’ve got enough for seconds.”

      “I’m not allowed seconds of sweets. It’s a rule.” The non-challenging way Noah said that made Maddie wince. What normal eight-year-old didn’t automatically reach for seconds when candy was involved?

      Just another thing she planned to change. Help Noah shed his stringent list of rules and become a regular kid. Check.

      “Let’s take three.” She snatched another bag of caramels from the shelf. “Just in case they turn out okay.”

      Which they won’t. She repressed the memory of that scoffing voice.

      “I like your spunk, mother of Ark Man.” Jesse grinned at her. “We need dry chow mein noodles, too.” He laughed at their surprised expressions. “You’ll see. It’s delicious.”

      With noodles in hand, Maddie paid for their loot then led the way out of the store, wondering if sharing a sweet snack with his classmates would finally gain Noah acceptance from the other kids. He’d been an outcast for so long, mostly because of Liam’s rules.

      After her husband’s death Maddie had blown a good part of her budget to change Noah’s world. She’d located a private school that specialized in his issues and whose uniforms didn’t make him look weird. She had his home haircut professionally restyled and enrolled him in a swimming class because he seemed to excel at that one sport. Yet despite all that, Noah still clung to his father’s rules, which frustrated Maddie no end.

      “Now you have everything you need, Ark Man. You and your mom can melt the caramels with a little cream, dip in the marshmallows, then roll them in the noodles. My job is done, so I’ll be on my way. See you.” Jesse waved and turned away.

      He thought she could do this on her own?

      “Wait,” Maddie called out in panic. “Could you—uh, come to the house and show us exactly how to make them? Please? I’d ask Emma, but she’s away.”

      She sounded desperate. Well, she was!

      But she was asking for Noah’s sake, because she wanted him to know what it was like to be the one to bring a special treat, to be in the limelight in a good way. Just once she wanted Noah to be envied by other kids instead of being mocked.

      And maybe you’re asking because you like the way Jesse didn’t make fun of you for not being able to cook.

      Her son frowned in confusion. “Mom?” he whispered. “Stranger rule?”

      Liam’s rules had taught Noah fear, and Maddie saw it now in his brown eyes. She was usually wary of strangers, too. But funnily enough, not with Jesse.

      Why was that?

      “Um, maybe I shouldn’t go to your place,” Jesse said, his gaze on Noah. “I could just—”

      “Please come,” she invited, discounting her inhibitions. “I’d really like to make this treat.”

      “I guess, if you’re sure?” After a moment’s pause Jesse added, “Since Gran’s away I haven’t got anything special on tonight. Maybe after we’re finished I could use your phone to call Wranglers Ranch about a job?”

      “Sure. Tanner Johns owns Wranglers. His wife, Sophie, is a friend of mine. Actually, we’re neighbors.” Maddie stashed the second set of groceries in her vehicle. “If you help us, I’ll put in a good word for you in exchange.”

      Maybe she wasn’t being totally straightforward by not telling Jesse that his grandmother was an ardent supporter of Wranglers Ranch and its outreach mission for troubled kids, or that Emma’s referral would probably be far more valuable than hers. But Maddie needed Jesse’s help. For Noah. So she waited on pins and needles.

      “Okay, it’s a deal.” Jesse motioned to a battered brown half-ton truck that sat at the far end of the parking lot. “That’s mine. How far is your place?”

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