Page 38 of The Cowboy's Country Charm

“Straw. Rusty thinks I’ll need two hundred bales. Can you do that?”

“I think so. If not, I’m sure I can get one of the farmers to pitch in.”

“Great. That will be one less thing to worry about.” And Kristy had been worrying because, truth be told, they’d never done one before.

“You’re making a maze?” Jewel asked. “Now thatisdifferent. I think I’m looking forward to this gala.”

Kristy felt a little ping of pride as the door opened behind them and a rush of warm air teased her back. She turned, and there was an older version of Rusty. Slightly shorter, not as muscular, but with a similar twinkle in his eye. Clearly Rusty’s father.

“I hope you saved some for me,” the man said as he placed his hat on one of the hooks by the door and ambled to the sink to wash his hands.

“You knew I would,” Jewel answered.

Rusty’s father strode over and planted a kiss on Jewel’s cheek. Then he picked up a plate of peach cobbler off the counter, where it had been waiting for him, grabbed a cup and filled it with coffee, and sat at the head of the table.

He reached out a hand to Kristy. “Ian Russell. You must be Kristy.”

Kristy shook his hand. It was rough, callused, and warm. “Yes. Kristy Winslow. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” He picked up his fork and took a bite of cobbler. “You’re coordinating the gala, aren’t you?”

“And what they have lined up, you won’t believe,” Jewel said. “I’ll fill you in later, but it will be fun. Can’t wait to go.”

Ian turned his blue-eyed gaze on Kristy.

She searched her mind for something to say. “Rusty said you live most of the year in New Mexico. Must be nice to come back and spend some time here.”

“It’s where our children are, where my grandson lives, so yes, it is nice.” Jewel answered the question while Ian polished off his piece of cobbler. “Ian just can’t deal with the winters anymore, and neither can I. But from May to September we just love being here. We’re fortunate that things worked out the way they did.” Jewel reached over and patted Lexi’s hand. “And that Rusty is back home.” She turned her attention to her son. “Now if you just get a word from the town, you’d be all set.”

“I passed the tests, so should be just a matter of timing. Seems they aren’t in much of a rush since the training isn’t until September.”

“I just hope it will be settled before we go back.”

Ian set down his fork, the plate devoid of any remnant of peach cobbler. “We’re proud of Rusty. For serving his country and wanting to serve his town.”

So different fromherfather’s reaction tohercareer choice.

“This cobbler is one of your best, Jewel.” Ian shoved the empty plate to the side.

“It was just delicious, Mrs. Russell.” Kristy had gotten so caught up in the conversation, and trying to make a good impression, she’d forgotten to give Jewel Russell her sincere compliments. The sweet peach taste lingered in her mouth, and she had to resist the urge to lick her lips.

“Call me Jewel. Mrs. Russell was my mother-in-law, God rest her soul.” Jewel smiled over the rim of her raised coffee cup.

Such a different dynamic than with her parents. If she was lucky, she’d never have to introduce Rusty to them.

***

Once everyone had left, including Kristy, Rusty lingered a minute in the kitchen with his mother. He’d practically had to push Lexi out the door, telling her he’d join her in a minute. But at the urging of their father, she’d gone to check on the horses. His sister was too much into other people’s business.

He’d wanted to get his mother’s take on Kristy. She’d always had a good sense about people. She also didn’t hold back her opinions. So if he was patient, he’d no doubt get an earful.

He brought the plates and cups over to the counter as his mother loaded the dishwasher. He glanced out the window as the clouds rolled over the sunshine. Seemed Kristy had taken some brightness with her when she left. At least that was how it felt.

He’d hoped his mother would comment before he had to hoof it out to the corral.

His mom placed the last dish in the dishwasher, closed the door, and straightened. “She seems nice.” It was noncommittal.

“She is.”

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