Page 26 of A Cowboy Home for Christmas
“I found this.” Barker places an open recipe book on the counter in front of the girls. “It’s Meemaw’s secret recipe book.”
“Ohhh.” Lark leans in closer.
“Ahhh.” Clara plunks her elbows on the counter and holds her chin in her hands.
Barker taps the page. “And this is her secret snowman pancakes recipe. I was thinking we could bake enough for everyone.”
“We need bacon for the snowmen’s scarf.” Lark picks up an apron and lays the strap around her neck.
“And chocolate chips for the buttons,” Clara squeals and Lark adds, “and sprinkles to mix in the batter.”
“I’ll find the chocolate chips.” I walk to the cupboards. “I know Meemaw brought some.”
“And I’ll find the sprinkles.” Barker meets me at the cupboard. “Hi.” He grins a goofy smirk at me.
“Hi.” I open a cupboard.
“Missed you.” He opens a cupboard.
I choke out a laugh. “We are not horny teenagers,” I whisper.
“Speak for yourself.”
I reach into Barker’s cupboard for the bag of chocolate chips. I purposely slide my hand over his. “Missed you, too,” I whisper, and walk back to the girls. I hear him growl a sound before he joins us.
I’m in charge of mixing the batter and frying the bacon. Barker cooks a small, medium, and large flapjack for the snowmen’s body. The girls have a decorating station set up at the end of the counter. They accessorize the cooked snowmen with bacon scarves and a chocolate chip face.
“I smell flapjacks.” Pawpaw’s cane thumps on the floor. He rubs his hand over his long grey beard.
“Is that nutmeg I smell?” Meemaw sticks her arms into a plaid housecoat.
“Meemaw’s coming.” Lark sprints to the counter.
“Hide the book,” Clara throws her sister a tea towel, and it lands on Lark’s face.
Barker scoops it up and covers the book. “Morning, ma,” he says so innocently.
She suspiciously eyes each of us. “Good morning.” She grips my face first and plants a kiss on my forehead. “What’s going on here?” She catches Clara and sprinkles kisses on her cheeks.
“Nothing,” Clara laughs. “But we made you breakfast. Sit at the table. Come on.”
My daughter grasps her hand and tugs her to the kitchen table. She catches her Pawpaw’s hand too, and guides him to a chair.
“You sit here, Meemaw.” Clara slides out a chair. “And you sit here, Pawpaw.” She slides out a second chair before running back to the kitchen.
Barker hands them each a plate with decorated warm snowmen flapjacks.
I gather cutlery from the drawer and grab a couple plates for my girls.
“And two more for us.” Barker intentionally rubs my side with his as he scoops up a couple plates in one hand. “And maple syrup.” He turns sideways, holding the plates away, and reaches his other arm in front of me. The action brings his face close to mine. “Hi.”
I can’t stop the silly smile that raises the edges of my lips. It’s like the cowboy can’t keep his hands off me. “Hi.”
“I’m just grabbing this syrup right here.”
“You could’ve gone around me.”
“Like this?” He straightens and moves behind me. I gasp when his front presses against my back. His arm slides along my side to reach the syrup.
