look in her direction. “One more stop. They just built a Dunkin’ Donuts in town. I’m hearing from everyone since it opened three weeks ago, that their donuts are really good. Want to find out?”
That boyish look made Cari’s heart race. “I’m all in. Lead the way.”
“So, you’re a donut girl?”
“Absolutely. I love donuts. My mom made them for us at least once every couple of months and then taught me to make them. Dirk refused to learn how to cook from the moment he entered the household. My mother had some pretty intense talks with her new husband about this, and over time, she let it go.”
“Mary taught me to cook starting at age nine, when my eyes were above the kitchen counter.” He chuckled.
“My father loved cooking and he was an ace at using spices of all kinds. That’s what he loved to do when he wasn’t flying.” Cari sighed fondly, closing her eyes over those memories. “He taught me how to use spices. He was always bringing back bottles of fresh spices from around the world, wherever he flew. Does Mary like spices?”
“Absolutely. When we get home? Check out the drawer next to where the flatware is kept. You’ll see about thirty different jars. Mary likes to grow them here on the ranch. She’s got a company and a manufacturing building, employing a number of people from Silver Creek, who take the fresh plants, dry them a particular way, and then grind them up. Have you seen her facility?”
“No, and I had no idea she had one like that.” Cari clapped her hands. “Gosh, this is almost like having my father back. What wonderful memories I have of him putting just a pinch of a certain spice on the tip of my tongue to taste. And then? He’d use that spice and show me how much to use on either a fruit, vegetable, or meat.” She sighed and smiled. “This is such a gift!”
His heart felt like it would burst out of his chest. The blazing, glistening look in her gold-brown eyes totaled him as a man who wanted nothing more than to hold her in that moment of sheer ecstasy. How much he missed his own father, understanding how much she loved hers. They had both experienced something no child wanted, but had happened. “Well,” he said, “how about tomorrow morning at nine a.m., I drive you out to her facility?”
“Will Mary be there?”
“I can ask her to be there if she doesn’t have something else that needs tending at her grocery store.”
“That would be wonderful!”
“Then it’s settled. Mary will love showing you her pride and joy. All the herb gardens were built around the facility. I think you’ll like it, too.” He turned into another parking lot. “Want to come in? You can choose your favorites and we’ll get them boxed up for you.”
She smiled. “Great. I can pay for my own, Chase . . .”
“Nah, you’re part of the family, Cari. I was going to buy four dozen and have my manager dole them out to everyone when we return to the ranch.”
“That’s wonderful of you!” She gave him a look of awe and wonderment. “An employer who buys hot, freshly made donuts for his crew. Wow!”
Chuckling, he parked. “Come on, let’s go drool . . .”
The place was never empty, and today was no exception. They wandered over to the glass displays with so many different kinds and colors of donuts, including donut holes, and it was a secret pleasure to watch Cari’s expressions. She leaned over, eyeing every type of donut, the different colors, the sprinkles, the sugared, glazed, and cake donut types. She had clasped her hands to her heart, leaning down, completely enraptured with the heady, tantalizing sweet smells, lost in the world of donuts. She was more a child in that moment, than the mature woman he knew. In a crazy thought, Chase wondered if she would be the same way with her young children, teaching them the wonders of the world so innocently and sweetly. Something told him Cari would. In some ways, he was reminded of his mother showing him something new when he was young. She would urge him to hold it, smell it, and if edible, to taste it. And then she’d tell him a story about it. If it was a fruit, what kind of tree it came from, what the fruit was used for and the kind for making pies, cakes, or homemade