Fortune's Heart. Marie Ferrarella

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      “Yeah,” he said. He lived on a cattle ranch. He darned well should have beef.

      “Okay. See you later,” she said and strode away.

      Colton stared after her, distracted by the wiggle in her walk and her cute backside. He gave himself a shake. Why had he agreed to a cooking lesson? Especially for the sake of his imaginary girlfriend? He swore under his breath. This was getting worse and worse.

      * * *

      Stacey paid at checkout and walked to her car with her purchases. She felt a little cranky and wasn’t sure why. Climbing into her car, she started the engine and headed for her house. She turned on the radio to listen to a few tunes to cheer herself up. It didn’t quite work, though. Seeing Colton at the Superette purchasing food to feed the woman he clearly had a crush on made her grind her teeth. It must be nice to have a man work that hard to please you, she thought. She wouldn’t know because no man had ever tried that hard to make her happy.

      Frowning, she tried to push aside her feelings. It wasn’t as if she wanted Colton to be cooking for her. Even though she’d looked at him with a little lust the other night, she’d decided that was an aberration. She couldn’t really believe that she wanted Colton. Stacey told herself she was just lonely for some attention. That had to be it.

      She returned home and unloaded her car while Piper napped.

      “Are you sure you’re okay?” her mother asked. “You’re awfully quiet.”

      “I’m fine. Do you mind watching Piper for a little while tonight?”

      “Of course not. Do you have plans?”

      “I, uh, offered to give Colton a cooking lesson. He said he’s trying to cheer up an unnamed female,” she confessed.

      Her mother lifted her eyebrows. “Oh, my,” she said. “How generous of you. You know Colton keeps such a low profile. It’s easy to underestimate him as, well, a romantic possibility.”

      “Not really,” Stacey said. “I’ve heard some rumors about girls that liked him just fine.”

      “Oh, really,” her mother said and paused. “Well, I think you’re very sweet to help him prepare a dinner for another woman.”

      “I’m not doing that,” Stacey snapped, then deliberately took a breath. “I’m just giving him a cooking lesson. He’s like all my brothers except Toby. He can’t cook worth a darn because his mother has cooked for him his entire life.”

      Her mother tilted her head. “Are you criticizing me for cooking for my family?”

      Stacey closed her eyes and smiled, shaking her head. She went to her mother and gave her a big hug. “Of course not. You’re the best mother any of us could have. But you have to admit those boys like having their meals put in front of them.”

      “You’re right about that,” she said ruefully and returned Stacey’s embrace.

      Stacey’s cell phone rang, and she pulled it out of her purse. She didn’t recognize the number. “Stacey Fortune Jones,” she answered.

      “Stacey, this is Sawyer. We have a situation here at the flight school. We need your help.”

      Stacey’s pulse picked up. “What’s wrong?”

      “There’s been an accident. My pilot Orlando has been hurt. The paramedics are on the way, but it will take a while, and the doctor’s not in town.”

      “Oh, that’s right,” she said, remembering the same doctor who took care of Toby’s foster children covered the whole town. “I’ll be right there,” she said, and turned to her mother. “I have to go. There’s been an emergency at the flight school.”

      “Oh, no,” her mother said. “Is it serious?”

      “I think so,” Stacey said grimly as she ran to her room to grab her medical bag.

      Pulling into the flight school, she stopped her car and ran toward the figures beside the burning plane. Stacey went into nurse mode when she assessed Orlando Mendoza. She checked his blood pressure and pulse and noted that the pilot kept going in and out of consciousness. He’d likely suffered a concussion, and she could see he’d sustained a compound fracture of his left leg and another fracture of his left arm, so she made a temporary brace for each to prevent unnecessary movement and loss of blood. Although she was able to stabilize him until the paramedics arrived, she couldn’t be certain that he hadn’t suffered internal injuries, as well.

      Stacey watched the ambulance drive away from the airport, then returned home and took a quick shower. The entire time, she kept thinking about Orlando Mendoza. She’d wished she could do more for him, but it was a miracle he’d survived the crash. She checked in on Piper and her mother and answered Mama Jeanne’s twenty questions about the accident. Unfortunately, Stacey wasn’t sure how everything would turn out for Orlando. This was one more reason Stacey wished there was an emergency facility closer to Horseback Hollow. Her hair still wet, she put it on top of her head and headed out the door to go to the Fosters’ house.

      After driving the few minutes to the Fosters, Stacey raced to the porch and knocked on the front door. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she said when Colton answered the door. “Did you hear about the accident at the flight school?”

      He shook his head. “I just got in from the field. What happened?”

      “One of the planes from the flight school went down and the pilot was injured. Orlando Mendoza. The paramedics were taking a while to get there, so Sawyer asked me to come and do what I could to stabilize him.”

      “Oh, man,” Colton said. “You think he’ll make it?”

      “I don’t know. He was unconscious most of the time and he had a badly broken arm and leg,” she said, her mind flashing back to a visual of the man.

      “Hmm,” Colton said. “Listen, you look pretty upset. We don’t have to do this cooking lesson.”

      She shook her head. “I can’t do anything now for him except pray. I could really use a distraction.”

      Colton gave a slow nod. “Okay,” he said with a lopsided grin. “If teaching me how to fix Stacey’s spaghetti will distract you, then that’s what we’ll do.”

      “Fine,” she said and headed for the kitchen. “Let’s start with chopping that onion. Some key things you need to know about making spaghetti are that you shouldn’t overcook the noodles and you should break up the meat before you put it in the pan. But don’t overwork it,” she instructed.

      “I’m taking mental notes,” he said.

      “You won’t just be taking mental notes,” she said. “You’ll be doing the work. You remember what you do more than you remember what someone says.”

      “That sounds like something my father would say,” he said.

      “It’s actually something my father once said,” she said, and met his gaze. “It must be a conspiracy.”

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