Promise Me Please, Cowboy by C.J. Carmichael

Author:C.J. Carmichael
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance
ISBN: 9781961544093
Publisher: Tule Publishing Group, LLC
Published: 2023-07-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Amy was up early the next morning. She’d slept better than she’d expected. Pure exhaustion could do that. She wondered how long she could keep up this pace, doing everything by herself. The irony was, she was so busy, she didn’t have time to hire new staff.

After a quick morning shower, she went downstairs to start the coffee and defrost muffins. The supply in the freezer would last one or two more days, but then she was going to need to bake more. She sure hoped it didn’t take as long to master high-altitude muffins as it had cookies.

She had Chet’s coffee and muffins ready a half hour earlier than normal and as she stepped outside, she caught him on his way to his truck.

“Here, you can take these with you.” She handed him the thermos and bag of muffins.

He barely met her eyes. “Thanks, but you shouldn’t bother. You’re too busy as it is.”

Dark stubble outlined his jaw, and circles under his eyes betrayed a poor night’s sleep. Yet he still looked gorgeous to her.

“It’s my job,” she reminded him. “What Sage and Dawson paid me for.”

He accepted this with a nod. “Well, thanks. Your coffee is a lot better than the stuff they brew at the gas station on the way out of town.”

“Is that where you went yesterday?” She shook her head. “Bad mistake.”

He almost relaxed. Almost smiled. Then his lips tightened, and his shoulders squared. “I better get going. Good luck with David Wilcox.”

“Maybe you’ll be back by the time he checks in? I could use some moral support.”

She couldn’t tell what he was thinking as he gazed at her. Then he lifted one shoulder. “Maybe.”

And he left.

*

It was difficult for Amy to focus the rest of the day. First, she burnt the bacon, which set off the smoke alarm, which brought several neighbors running, including Carol Bingley.

“My goodness, girl,” Carol said, as she flapped a tea towel near the alarm to disperse the smoke. “You should cook your bacon in the oven. Three hundred and fifty degrees for thirty minutes. Never fails. Never burns.”

Amy, who wasn’t quite sure why Carol was in her kitchen—she knew she hadn’t invited her—put her hand firmly on Carol’s shoulder and guided her toward the screen door. “I’ll try that. Thanks, Carol. And thanks for coming to help, but all is good now, so I’ll let you get on with your day.”

Before leaving, Carol said through the screen door, “Let me know when you have time to tackle your perennials. I’ll be happy to show you how to divide them.”

“Will do, thanks again.” Amy had no idea what Carol meant by dividing perennials. She’d have to do an internet search when she had a minute.

Amy set out the strata and fruit salad and muffins on the buffet for people to help themselves. The Lancasters were the first people down. As she poured their coffee she said, “I’m sorry there’s no bacon this morning. It came out a little…crisp.”

“That explains the ruckus with the smoke alarm.

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