I’m the last person to tell you anything about love, but I do know a little something about fear. And the only way to get past it is to face it. Grab it by the horns, look it in the eyes, and stare it down.”
Do it. She grabbed a helmet and strapped it on but hesitated again as she grasped the handlebar and prepared to mount the machine. “That’s easy for you to say. You ride bulls and stare down fear all the time.”
“Look, I don’t know you. We met like a minute ago, so I don’t have time for pleasantries and chitchat.” He put his foot in the stirrup and hauled himself into his saddle. Picking up the reins, he stared down at her, his gaze hard and resolute. “But we’ve got work to do, so if you really want to help, get your ass on that quad and follow me.”
His directive spurred her into action.
She climbed on. I can do this. Her hands shook as she turned the key in the ignition, then pressed the start button. She fought the panic rising in her as the machine roared to life. I have to do this.
“Let’s go,” Cade shouted as he galloped from the barn.
With a silent prayer, she put the quad into gear, then pressed the throttle and followed him.
* * *
Brody rubbed his temples as he pushed back from his desk chair. He’d been trying to catch up on some work at home, but he’d just read the same paragraph three times and still had no idea what it said. He needed a break.
He rolled his shoulders as he picked up his empty coffee cup and headed for the kitchen. What he really needed was to stop thinking about Elle. Good luck with that. He stopped as he stepped into the kitchen, and his mouth gaped at the mess his darling daughter was in the process of creating. “What is going on in here?”
Mandy stood on a stool in front of the sink, an apron wrapped around her, and a bag of russet potatoes spilling onto the counter. A YouTube video was paused on the screen of her iPad on the other counter. She turned to him, holding a potato in one hand and wielding a potato peeler in the other, one of his surgical gloves stretched over her cast. “Hi, Dad.”
“What are you doing?”
She crinkled her nose, an expression she’d taken to using when she thought he was being an idiot. “I’m peeling potatoes.”
“I see that. But why?”
“I’m trying to learn how to make mashed potatoes and gravy.”
He approached the sink and peered down into the pan holding close to a dozen already-peeled potatoes. “For how many? That’s enough potatoes to feed a small army.”
“I just need enough to feed one person.”
A sinking feeling settled in his gut. “And who would that one person be?”
“Well, one person, plus you and me, so actually three. I’m learning how to make these so I can invite Elle to have supper with us.” She planted the hand holding the potato on her hip. “When we were at Bryn’s and Aunt Sassy brought over that meal, Elle said that if someone went to the trouble of making her fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, and a cake, that they would stay in her heart forever. So I’m gonna need you to help me with fixin’ some fried chicken because I want her to love us again.”
Oh.
Brody tried to breathe around the sharp knife that his daughter had just stabbed into his heart. A heart that was already struggling to beat from missing Elle too.
He shook his head. “That isn’t going to happen.”
Her small forehead wrinkled, and her eyes narrowed. “Why not? I know you miss her. You’ve been as grouchy and grumpy as an old bear the last few days. You’re either mopey and sad or angry and mad. I heard you throwing stuff around the basement last night.”
“I wasn’t mad. I was just trying to find something.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Whatever, Dad. I’m not embarrassed to say I miss her, and I’m tired of waiting for you to fix this, so I’m doing it myself. Except for the chicken. But we already have the stuff to make grandma’s chocolate dump cake, and I know Elle loves cake.”
Elle did love cake. And he loved cake—especially when he was licking it off her perfect breasts. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, trying to force the image from his