“Don’t trouble yourself. I’m just here to ask you if there’s any way you can help get Andy into the Strawberry Fest. I know the deadlines passed and I’m sick about not registering him. Only with the hospital stay these last three weeks, it plain slipped my mind. The thing is, I told him while he was in there that once he was healed, he’d get to be a part of the Strawberry Fest. I guess you could say it was a bribe and now I can’t make good.”
“Say no more. I’ve got the schedule right here, and I happen to know for a fact that there’s one slot open. It’s in—” He broke off, rummaging through his mounds of crap until he landed on the paper he was looking for. He squinted, scanned down the length of it, then nodded his approval.
“Did you find something?” Ian asked. Mayor Clark waited for a beat more, then looked up and grinned.
“I sure did. One slot left in the cooking area. Think your boy would be interested in that?”
“I can’t say he’s had much experience, but I’ll say yes. It’s a hell of a lot better than not being there at all,” Ian answered, more grateful than he was comfortable admitting. He watched Andy’s name being penciled in and when it was done, Ian leaned back in his chair and actually sighed with relief. As it turned out, the relief was premature.
“So,” the mayor continued, “now that that’s done, let me ask you a question.”
“Sure,” Ian asked, immediately on his guard again, “shoot.”
“I heard through the grapevine that Carol just retired. Any truth to that?” Mayor Clark asked. His voice was too careful, too nonchalant. That was never a good sign.
“That’s true, she did. She deserves it. She’s worked hard for my family for a long time.”
“She sure did. A hell of a housekeeper,” the mayor agreed, nodding profusely.
“She was more than a housekeeper. She’s like family,” Ian contradicted, bristling a little at the comment. Mayor Clark held up both hands in a surrender gesture and nodded agreement.
“I have no doubt. She’s a fine woman, Carol is. And I assure you, I don’t mean to pry. I only ask because there’s something I would love for you to do for me if you can find it in your heart.”
“Say the word,” Ian answered, crossing his arms over his chest. This was why you didn’t ask for help. It always came with strings attached. But if there was a price to be paid for having the chance to keep his word to his son, he’d pay it—whatever it was.
“It’s about my niece, Katie. She’s fallen onto some hard times, and I would love to help her out. With getting her confidence back, you understand. She’s on the way to becoming a fine woman herself if we can steer her in the right direction.”
“What can I do to help?” He asked, trying to ignore that last “we.” He didn’t even know what good ‘ol Bubba wanted yet, and already it was “we.” More trouble than it was worth, without a doubt.
“I was thinking maybe she could come to stay at the ranch for a while, try to learn how to fill Carol’s shoes. She’s a fine cook, and she’s got a tender heart. She could be a big help with your boy; I can promise you that. What do you say?”
And because he had already accepted the man’s damn help, because there was nothing else he could say, Ian said yes.
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