Spurs 'n Surrender (Operation Cowboy Book 2)(18)
All the way to the neighboring town, she fought with Wydell in her head. Imaginary arguments that ended just as badly as the ones in person. What was wrong with her? He wasn’t worth wasting a second of her time on.
But when she got to the supermarket and started loading the cart with the items on her list, he seemed to trail her throughout the store. She could almost hear him at her ear. “You’re buying real bacon? I figured you for the turkey bacon type. Or tofu.”
“Shut up,” she said aloud to the nonexistent Wydell. Two old ladies looking in the meat case threw her annoyed glances and skittered away.
Great. She was acting psycho. She found the fixings she needed to create her momma’s turkey dinner with trimmings, including sausage stuffing and green bean casserole with crumbled bacon.
Wydell’s voice nagged her all the way to the beer cooler, where she was apparently choosing the wrong beer for a working man like Garrett. Even looking at the Pabsts Blue Ribbon made Wydell snort “He’s not a hipster, sweetheart” in her head. She repressed a growl and set several varieties in her shopping cart. Whatever Garrett didn’t want she’d serve to her guests. And she’d make a big pitcher of sweet tea for the Kent kids and Mrs. Fletcher.
After lugging her purchases to the truck, she got behind the wheel and blasted her favorite Miranda Lambert music, singing along loudly to drown out Wydell’s voice.
Why did he have such a hold on her? So what if he’d blown her mind over and over again that night? He was nothing special.
Except the way he sometimes tuned out the world, staring into space like a lost boy, tugged at her heartstrings. She wanted to wrap him in her arms and stroke his hair until he got through the rough patch and the memories faded.
“Dammit.” She cranked the music higher and focused on what she’d prepare first. With a kitchen as small as hers, she’d have to be methodical about this dinner. She couldn’t fit all of it in the small oven at the same time, and the turkey breasts needed to be in there the longest. Good thing she’d purchased pies instead of trying to bake them.
She’d just lugged it all inside when a knock at her trailer door had her on high alert. Goosebumps broke over her body as she turned to the door. Was it Wydell? If he came into her space, there was no way she could stop herself from touching him. Not with all the thoughts running rampant through her mind.
Holding her breath, she cracked the door, expecting to see chiseled muscles and his damn angular jaw.
She glanced down at the tow-headed child standing there instead. “Hi there. Robbie, is it?”
“Yes’m. Robbie Kent. My momma sent me over to see if you’ll come for supper tonight.”
Anya stared across the vacant town to the place where the Kents were set up with tents and cook fires. They were living on so little yet they were generous enough to invite her to share their meal.
Tears prickled her eyes, and she sucked in a deep breath to hold them at bay. “Robbie, I’ll let you in on a secret.”
His eyes widened, as blue as the sky he was silhouetted against. “A secret?”
“Yes, I’m making a big meal with turkey and all the fixin’s. I planned to invite all of you and Mrs. Fletcher over here to share it with me. Will you tell your momma I said thank you but dinner is at my place tonight?”
Robbie nodded enthusiastically and then peered into the trailer behind her. “How will you fit all of us in here?”
She laughed. “Well, that is a problem. Any ideas?”
“We could carry some benches and our tables over. My brothers and I are strong.”
“You look very strong, and that would be perfect. Tell your family to come around six?”
“I will! See you then, Miss Anya.” He hopped off like a frog filled with jumping beans, and she watched him run back home. The kindness of strangers had never hit her so close to home. Here in Los Vista, she wasn’t an heiress sitting on millions just waiting to give it away. No, she was treated like a real human being.
She had to admit, even though Wydell thought of her as a princess, he hadn’t treated her like one in bed. He’d taken what he wanted and made no excuses for his rough touches and bruising kisses.
Her body started to hum all over again. She tossed a look toward the site where Wydell was still working. The man was standing still, staring in the direction of her trailer. Or maybe he was just gazing across the lovely land and dreaming of rebuilding it.
She loved his spirit—it had guided her here to help in the first place. She couldn’t imagine coming home from war, beaten and battered and even burned, only to find the home he’d longed for was gone.
Tipping her face back, she looked at the sky that had dropped the weapons of destruction on Los Vista. Not a cloud in the sky today and it was difficult to imagine the black swirling terror that had wrought so much damage.
She had to admit that the early photos Marty had shown her were much worse than the view she was seeing. Wydell and Garrett really had done so much to help their town already. With any luck, she—or her money, rather—would do more good.
She wanted to put a smile in Wydell’s blue-green eyes. The same kind of smile she’d seen when he was buried inside her.
A sigh trickled from her lips, and she turned back inside and closed the door. If she was going to have dinner on for the Kents and Mrs. Fletcher by six, she had some work to do. Maybe cooking would take her mind off the distracting cowboy, but the more she worked the louder his voice in her mind grew.