that needed answers, or I would have always wondered. The sadness is still raw when I think about our friendship, so I try not to dwell on it. It’s a coping mechanism I’ve had to use the last few months.
“We ready to open?” Ryker beams, walking out from the kitchen. He’s been out of town for a week and returned last night. He demanded to come to work with me today so we could be together. I laugh out loud when I read his apron.
You can have the cupcake, I’ll take the cook.
One thing, it’s never a dull moment here with him. “Really, Ryker?”
He holds his arms out, amusement filling his face. “Hey! You should be happy I picked this one. The first draft was You can eat the cookie, I’ll eat the cook.”
I roll my lips to not laugh. He doesn’t need more encouragement. “Mr. Dallas, you’re so dirty.”
A salacious grin grows across his chiseled face. “Whiskey, not yet.” He juts his thumb toward the back room. “But I set aside some icing for later. I plan on getting extra dirty.” Heat streaks up my body.
“Eww, Ryker!” Josie freezes at the saloon doors. My new baking assistant grimaces. “I put that tube up thinking it was extra. Now, I have this picture in my head what it will be used for later.”
“Hey Josie. Just make sure to clean the baking table a little extra in the morning,” he teases, making her cheeks flame bright red before she disappears to the back. I whack him in the chest.
“You’re going to run off my baking partner. Cut it out. I need her in my life.” My voice errs on the side of desperation. I practically baked myself into the ground the last couple months. I had to hire someone. “And need I remind you what it was like when I was doing this all by myself?”
His smile drops.
One thing about being a baker. It’s nonstop baking. Especially when I was the only one doing it. Which meant less time for Ryker.
“I’m kidding, Josie,” he yells her direction. “We would never do that here.” He turns his attention to me and wags his brows, whispering, “We are so doing it here.”
Someone knocks on the door. We both turn our attention to the delivery guy holding a small box.
“I’ll grab it, you get ready to open this baby up.”
When he comes back, he hands me the box. Pulling out a pair of scissors to open it, I notice there’s no return address. I pause, debating if I want to open it here. A tingle moves up my spine.
Ryker looks up from the box with a lifted brow. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head and continue opening it, not wanting to admit yet who sent it without confirming. Bubble wrap encases a silver frame. When I unwrap it, my breath hitches.
“What is it?”
“It’s my first Franc I earned from my cookie business.” I stare at the coin. I remember getting it from the hotel I worked at. They wanted a dozen cookies. I had placed the coin in a red-lined silver jewelry box and set it on my desk to remind me that everyone starts somewhere.
“Do you think Rudy sent it?”
I nod. “He’s the only one who knew what this coin meant to me.”
“We should tell Halli. I don’t like knowing he’s able to get to you.”
He’ll always be able to get to me.
And I’m okay with that.
“Wait, Ryker.” I put my hand on Ryker’s arm to stop him from grabbing Halli. “This isn’t the first time.”
He cocks his head to the side, confused. “Whiskey, why didn’t you tell me?”
I bite my lip, embarrassed that it has brought me a little peace knowing he’s out there watching over me. “Ryker, you see him as a terrible man. He’s not. He’s my father. One of them. I don’t expect you to like him because he’s not a part of my life anymore. But I have seen him a couple times and received a couple things.” I hold up the frame. He looks at me like he’s trying to understand. “I mean, we haven’t talked. It’s been in passing. From a distance.”
I skip an important part though. It might weird him out. But I’m almost certain I figured out how he always knows where to find me. The necklace. The one he gave me when I was a child and told me my mom had left it for me.