The Cowboy's Easter Family Wish. Lois Richer

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СКАЧАТЬ too—restrained. As if it hadn’t yet become home.

      Two pictures hung on the wall. One was a very large portrait of Noah staring at a birthday cake with eight burning candles. The second was a smaller photo of him and Maddie standing by a flowering cactus. There were no snapshots or precious photos of the late husband and father. Questions multiplied inside Jesse’s head.

      “What can we substitute for the skewers?” Maddie asked, drawing him from his introspection.

      “Forks, I guess. You don’t have regular toothpicks? Because they would work,” he said, as he added a small dollop of cream to the melting candy.

      “No, I’m pretty sure I don’t—oh, wait.” With a smile as big as Texas Maddie flung open a cabinet and lifted out a massive cellophane-covered basket. “This was a housewarming gift from your grandmother. I guess she thought we’d be camping out or something, because she put in a bunch of disposable things. Maybe there’s something we could use in here.”

      She pawed her way through the crackling cellophane, pulling out items and discarding them on the stone countertop in her search for toothpicks.

      “Well?” Jesse waited, content to watch this beautiful woman.

      “Nothing.” Maddie’s tone deflated when she came to the bottom of the basket.

      “These might work.” He selected and rotated a box.

      “What are they?” She leaned across him to read the label. “Oh. Stir sticks.” She turned away, then stopped and turned back, eyes glowing as she took the package and tore it open. “Stir sticks!” she repeated, her grin wide as she held up a handful.

      “Wooden ones, which are perfect, though I’m surprised my tasteful grandmother chose such lurid colors.” He plunged the tip of one purple-and-green-striped stick into a marshmallow and grinned right back at her. “Hey, Ark Man,” he called. “We’re making the treats. You better come help us so you’ll be able to tell the other kids how to make ’em.”

      Jesse hadn’t given a thought to calling Noah until he glanced at Maddie and suddenly realized he should have let her do that. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she stopped him with a tearful look.

      “Thank you,” she whispered, just before her son appeared. “We found stir sticks for the I Have a Dream treats, Noah. Emma sent them in that basket of stuff.”

      “Huh.” Noah watched Jesse, who drew his attention to the melting caramels. The boy spread the crisp noodles on a sheet of wax paper as directed, then mimicked Jesse’s action, dipping a skewered marshmallow into the melted candy, rolling it in the noodles and standing it in a glass to set.

      “Wait,” Jesse ordered, when they’d made a total of three treats. Mother and son turned questioning gazes on him. “There’s no point in making any more unless they taste okay. Go ahead,” he urged Noah. “Do a taste test.”

      Noah glanced at his mom, who nodded. With exaggerated slowness he lifted one of the sticks from the glass and tried to bite the caramel. Of course the marshmallow moved, escaping his teeth. Jesse couldn’t control his amusement, until Noah set the stick down, his face a wounded mask.

      “This is what you looked like.” Jesse made a fool of himself trying to coax a laugh from Noah and his mother and finally succeeded. “Now this is the proper way to eat them, or at least it’s how I’ve always eaten them.” He popped an entire marshmallow into his mouth, closed his eyes and chewed. “Mmm. I’d forgotten how good these were.” He savored the taste.

      Maddie reached for the last one. She put it in her mouth hesitantly, but then her eyes widened as she chewed.

      “Noah,” she said, wonder coloring her musical voice. “Taste it. They’re delicious.”

      “Sweets are bad for you,” Noah recited. “A third of all children starting school have tooth decay.”

      “It’s okay to have a treat now and then,” she told him.

      Jesse could see how hard the boy was finding it to taste the candy. Those rules again. Someone had sure brainwashed him.

      “Too many sweets are bad for you,” he agreed. “But you’re not going to have too many. Are you, Ark Man?”

      After a moment, Noah shook his head, picked up his skewer and studied it with a critical eye. “I like triangles,” he said firmly. “They’re the best. These are circles.”

      Jesse blinked. “Uh, I don’t know how to make them into triangles.”

      “It doesn’t matter.” Maddie intervened with a smile. “Just try it, Noah,” she encouraged. “Circles are good, too. Think about apples and oranges.”

      “I like triangles.” But he did slide the covered marshmallow into his mouth. The myriad of expressions that chased across his face was a delight Jesse was glad he was there to witness.

      “So tell me, Ark Man, are circles okay?”

      Still chewing, Noah nodded vigorously.

      “And do you think three each will be enough for your classmates?”

      He shook his head in a very firm no.

      “Then let’s get busy,” Jesse urged.

      They worked together in a relay. With delicate precision Noah speared the marshmallows, then handed the skewers to Jesse for dipping. He passed them on to Maddie to roll in the noodles. Halfway through they changed positions, so Maddie could dip and Noah could roll. And somewhere in the midst of the laughing and giggling and sneaky licks of a finger, Noah became an ordinary kid making a treat in the kitchen.

      When Jesse glanced at Maddie he found her watching him, appreciation shining from the depths of her gorgeous green eyes. He couldn’t look away, but she did, quickly, as if she was embarrassed.

      “We’ve used all the marshmallows, so I guess it’s time to clean up, and you need to get ready for bed.” Maddie mussed Noah’s too-perfect hair and pressed a kiss on his head. “How shall we keep these overnight, Jesse?”

      “Just leave them. They’ll dry out and firm up a bit. Then you can lay them in a box or container for school tomorrow.” He was embarrassed by his stomach’s loud rumble.

      “Didn’t you eat dinner?” Noah paused in his cleanup of the leftover noodle bits.

      “I didn’t.” Jesse shrugged. “That’s why I went to the grocery store. It’s Gran’s favorite. When she wasn’t at home, I hoped I’d find her there and that maybe she’d have dinner with me when she was finished shopping. Or maybe make me dinner.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll get something to eat on my way back to my campsite.”

      “You’re camping?” Noah’s bored look vanished, replaced by excitement.

      “Ever since I left Colorado, Ark Man.”

      “In a tent? With a campfire? And cookouts?” Awe filled Noah’s voice.

      “All of the above,” Jesse agreed.

      “Cool.” The word whooshed out СКАЧАТЬ