Page 8 of Loving Carter

I dump the grocery bags on the counter and start putting away the food. Or maybe the aunts are hoping for a bird’s-eye view of the festivities since I’m on the committee. I could ask them, but I know they won’t tell me the truth.

Just like I don’t tell them the full truth about my plans. I’m going to leave as soon as I get someone else in here to run this place. It’s important that I stand on my own two feet, and to that end, I plan to head back to Dallas and either find a financial firm to join or open my own office. Here, I’m relying on my aunts, which I don’t like. I love my aunts a lot, and I didn’t hesitate when their health deteriorated so much that they needed someone to come home to take care of them and the ranch. But when I was a kid and came to live here, I had no choice. I couldn’t make it on my own. But now? I can, and it’s important to me that I do. Sure, I put my career on hold and came right away when they needed me. I’m the oldest. Taking care of them is my responsibility.

More than that, I wanted to be here for them just like they’d been here for me and my brothers. They hadn’t hesitated when we boys had been orphaned and needed help, just like I didn’t hesitate when they, in turn, needed help.

I believe in family members being there for each other. But I also believe in adults being responsible for themselves, something I plan to do as soon as possible. And now that I live with the aunts, their health has greatly improved. Personally, I’m not too sure about mine sometimes. At least, not my sanity. They fuss over me like two mother hens, which I hate. I’m too old to be fussed over.

“Buy anything interesting?” Kellan asks, entering the kitchen.

I’m in the process of setting some apples in the bowl on the counter and glance at my younger brother. He’s here scrounging for food. In that whole “hunter-gatherer” thing, they forgot scroungers. They’re a specific type of gatherer—the lazy type.

“Nothing you’d like. Mostly vegetables and real food,” I say.

Kellan snags an apple and rinses it off. As he chomps happily, he’s watching me put away the remaining food.

“Please. Don’t stress yourself. I’ll do all the work,” I tell him.

Rather than being offended, Kellan just laughs. “Okay. I’ll stand here and take it easy. Want to know about my morning?”

“Let me guess. You slept late, visited with the aunts, and then ate everything that wasn’t nailed down.”

Again, Kellan laughs. “Partly. And I found a cook for the ranch.”

I stop, hoping I heard right. “A cook?”

Kellan holds up one hand while he finishes eating a large bite of the apple. Finding a cook is one of the big items on my list of things that must happen before the next batch of guests show up. I try to curtail my enthusiasm because Kellan’s idea of a suitable cook might not line up with what we really need. The kid only graduated from college a couple of weeks ago, and he still makes some bad choices.

“Okay, now I can talk,” Kellan says, once he finally finishes chewing. “She’s recently moved to town. I’d guess she’s in her late twenties with light-brown hair, kind of a honey blond actually—”

“Stop.” I rub my forehead, sensing where this may be going. “Tell me you didn’t offer a job to some woman you picked up?”

“Hey, I know better than to just hire anyone.”

“You shouldn’t be hiring at all,” I say. “I told you when you decided to stick around for the summer that hiring personnel is my responsibility. There are rules you have to follow.”

Kellan sits in one of the chairs by the small kitchen dining table. “Let me make myself comfortable while you pontificate.”

“You’re so funny. You know it’s important that rules are followed. When Mrs. Louden retired, I said we needed to find a specific type of person to take her place. Man or woman, the cook needs to be able to make food for the aunts and also make food for the guests. He or she is welcome to have a helper if needed, but it’s important—”

“Stop.” Kellan groans loudly. “Ugh. I know this. Stop ranting when you don’t need to rant. I haven’t hired her yet, but I did invite her to come for an interview. This woman is not a pickup. I’m only telling you about her in case you want to meet her. If you’re not interested, I’ll call her and tell her to forget the interview.”

I take a deep breath, hoping to settle my nerves. I want to believe Kellan handled this situation responsibly, but I know there’s a good chance he didn’t.

Still, he’s right. Ranting doesn’t help, and I have been ranting. Today has been stressful, and I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s knowing that the next huge group of guests will arrive soon, and oddly enough, this time I don’t feel prepared. Or maybe I’m stressed knowing I have to help with the business expo, but whatever it is, I need to calm down. Groups of guests arrive all the time. Yeah, it’s summer so the groups are bigger and we’re woefully shorthanded, but this isn’t the first time we’ve been in a bind.

“Okay. Sorry. Where did you meet her and what are her qualifications?” I ask, trying to keep an open mind.

Kellan grins. “That’s what I like to hear—you willing to listen to others who are just trying to help you. Her name is Evie Parsons. She’s a nice woman who moved to town recently and met the aunts at church. She used to work at some fancy restaurant in Tyler, but the aunts think she moved to avoid an ex-boyfriend who’s a jerk.”

The woman sounds interesting, but the fact that the aunts recommended her might be a trap. Is this woman actually qualified to be a cook or are the aunts once again tossing “marriageable women” my way? I love my aunts, but I know them. They can be sneaky.

Kellan must have read my mind because he says, “The way I heard it is the last thing she wants is a man in her life. She’s like you and Skylar. Committed to being single.”

His comment surprises me. “What makes you think Skylar is committed to being single?”

Kellan shrugs. “She doesn’t seem to be looking, which to me says she’s happy being single.”

My brother went back to eating his apple with no intention of helping me, so I put the rest of the food away. I could make him help, but it’s easier to do it myself.

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