A Rancher's Redemption

“Hey, it’s me,” she called out, just as she always had.

Her mother bustled in from the kitchen, her gait a little slower than it once had been, but still brisk. Dressed in her trademark off-white blouse and dark pants, bifocals propped on her head, she greeted Dani with a warm smile.

Jewel followed, as petite and trim as Big Mama was large.

“I was hoping to see you before I left.” Jewel tsked in sympathy. “I’m sorry about your breakup.”

“Thanks.” It was no surprise that she’d heard about that. Big Mama kept her well-informed. Still, Dani wasn’t about to discuss the details. “It’s nasty out there, so be careful,” she said.

Her mother peered out the little window in the door. “What a storm we’re having. The weather people are warning about a three-dayer. Lordy, I hope they’re wrong. Be safe, Jewel. I’ll see you Friday night.”

The woman nodded. “Six o’clock, dinner out and cards here.” She patted her large handbag. “Thanks for the cinnamon roll. It will go well with my afternoon coffee. You’re in for a yummy snack, Dani.”

When the door closed behind her, Dani’s mother opened her arms. “How about a hug for your Big Mama?”

Dani stepped into the familiar embrace. Instantly she was enveloped in Big Mama’s warmth and lilac cologne, and for a few seconds all her cares faded. For all their disagreements, Dani loved her dearly.

“What was Jewel doing here?” she asked when they let go of each other.

“You know what early birds we both are. She’s going to knit me a cardigan and wanted to show me possible yarns and colors.”

“That’s nice,” Dani said. “I hope you picked something with a little color.” Not that her mother wore colors much. Everything she owned was either black, brown or navy.

“I did—a soft gray. You hungry?”

Having skipped breakfast, Dani nodded. “Those cinnamon rolls smell wonderful.”

“Of course they do.” Big Mama grinned. “I took a batch out of the oven just before you got here. I left the nuts out, the way you prefer them. There’s a pot of hot coffee, too.”

Eager to eat something, and always up for another cup of coffee, Dani rubbed her hands together. Then she frowned. “Didn’t Dr. Adelson tell you to cut down on fats and sweets?”

Her mother made a face. “I don’t smoke and I don’t drink. Isn’t that enough? Besides, what’s the point of living if I can’t indulge in a few of the things I love?” With a defiant gleam in her eye, she raised her chin. “A treat now and then won’t hurt.”

Before Dani could argue, Big Mama changed the subject. “You have circles under your eyes.” She scrutinized Dani critically and pursed her lips. “You’re not sleeping well. It’s because of Jeter, isn’t it? I didn’t want to ask and bother you while you were at work this weekend, but how are you doing?”

Bother her? She’d only driven Dani crazy with her frequent calls. Dani refrained from pointing this out. She had more important things to discuss. “I stayed up late last night, but that had nothing to do with the breakup,” she explained. “I’m actually doing okay.”

“You’re already over Jeter?”

Nick’s kisses had all but wiped the other man from her mind. Kisses I’m going to forget, she reminded herself. “Pretty much.”

“That was fast—much faster than usual. Let’s get at those cinnamon rolls while they’re still hot. Spending Saturday evening with Nick must’ve done you a world of good,” Big Mama said as they sauntered toward the kitchen. “I just adore that boy.”

Nick was no boy—he was all man. Fighting the urge to glance away from her mother’s shrewd blue eyes, Dani shrugged. “I guess I wasn’t that in love with Jeter, after all.”

“I’m relieved. He wasn’t the one for you. What did you and Nick do to cheer each other up?”

Although the rain had changed into pounding hail, Dani suddenly wished she was outside. Anything would be better than answering that question. “We had dinner and talked. And we ate hot fudge sundaes,” she said. All of which was true. “Then we watched an old James Bond movie called Dr. No.”

“I remember that movie. Ursula Andress co-starred with Sean Connery.”

The scarred old oak table that had been around since Dani’s childhood was set for two, with a couple of jumbo cinnamon rolls on each plate. More than Dani could ever eat. The promised pot of steaming coffee and a pitcher of warm milk sat beside a stick of creamery butter and a vase of pussy willow buds. Ancient furniture and dishes that weren’t all that different from those at Big Mama’s Café—battle-worn, but friendly and homey. The food both here and at the restaurant was always excellent, but it was also very rich. People loved eating it, but these days they also needed other, healthier options.

Pushing that conversation aside for now, Dani sat in her customary seat, facing the window that overlooked the backyard where she’d spent many a happy spring and summer day. The curtains were open to let in the gray light. Hail bounced like white BB’s against the concrete patio.

Seemingly oblivious to the spectacle, Big Mama sighed as she buttered a roll. “Sean Connery—now there’s a man. He’s still as handsome as ever.”

For a long moment neither of them spoke, other than to exclaim over the flaky cinnamon rolls. Dani thought back to when she was six and Big Mama first took her in. At the time her then foster mother had been forty-five and widowed for almost four years.

Big Mama married late in life, and she and Winston had been madly in love. They’d been husband and wife just over a year when Big Mama had learned she was pregnant. She and Winston were ecstatic.

Then one snowy night her husband had died in a twenty-car pile-up on the freeway. A few weeks later, Big Mama miscarried. After that, she’d lost her interest in men, and had spent her days running the restaurant and raising Dani.

“I made a decision I’m sure you’ll approve of,” Dani said. “From now on, I’m going to date only the kind of man who has a steady job. He should also want to get married and have kids.”

Big Mama nodded. “That’s smart, Dani. But I want you to consider something important—you don’t need a man to be happy.”

Her mother had never said this before. Dani stared at her. “Hey, I happen to like men.”

“They are wonderful, but after I lost Winston, I did all right by myself. Especially when it came to you. When you were growing up, we sure had a lot of fun.” She waited for Dani’s nod, then continued. “I may not have given birth to you, but I raised you as my own, and I did it totally without help. And I did a darned fine job of it, if I do say so. You became a terrific young woman. I’m so proud of you.”

Dani flushed with pleasure. “Aww, thanks.”

Big Mama had saved her from what could have been a childhood as awful as the one that Sly and Seth, her brothers, had endured at the hands of a distant uncle. Uncle George had taken them in but hadn’t wanted Dani. At first, that had hurt, but his rejection had turned out to be the best thing for her. Because Uncle George disliked kids—even his own nephews. Poor Sly and Seth had borne the brunt of his animosity.

Whereas for Dani, from the start Big Mama had made her feel welcome and comfortable. She’d taught Dani how to cook and had let her help out in the restaurant. She’d always treated her with kindness and respect—along with a strong dose of discipline. By the age of eight, Dani had become the woman’s adopted daughter, in every way possible. She’d soon inherited Big Mama’s love of feeding hungry diners delicious, homemade food, along with the desire to manage a well-run establishment that brought people back again and again.

That wasn’t happening so much anymore, but if Dani could just make the changes she wanted, she was sure that business would pick up. “I’m forever grateful for you and the wonderful life you’ve given me,” she said. “But I’d still like to have a husband and a baby or two. Don’t you want a grandchild to spoil?”

“Of course I would, but what I want most for you is your happiness.”

With her mother in such an expansive mood, this seemed the perfect moment to get down to business. Tamping down a bad case of nerves, Dani reached for her purse and pulled out a folder. “I put together a couple of new menu ideas that will appeal to health-conscious eaters, as well as an updated look for our menu.” The restaurant’s interior hadn’t changed since Dani had first stepped inside it some twenty-four years ago. It was now dated and not exactly welcoming. In fact, the drab decor and old lighting contradicted what Dani considered important—not only delicious food, but a bright, fun atmosphere in which to enjoy it.

She pointed to the crude sketch she’d made. “I’m no artist, but you get the gist. This design is more contemporary and will suit the new decor perfectly.”

Her mother didn’t bother to put on her bifocals. “Just hold on there, missy.” Her lips thinned into a stubborn line. “I haven’t agreed to any new decor. And we don’t need new menus or recipes, either. We have great food and friendly service, and customers like us just the way we are.”

Here we go. Dani stifled a sigh. “You’re right, but there’s a lot of competition out there now, and we’re steadily losing business, especially since the Poplar Tree opened. If we want to keep the customers we have and attract new ones, we have to make changes and update the restaurant.”

An emotion that Dani swore was fear crossed her mother’s face, gone so quickly that she wondered if she’d imagined it.

“Not on my watch,” her mother stated firmly.

Dani suppressed a groan of frustration. The restaurant was to be her legacy, and she wanted it to survive and flourish for the rest of her life and even longer. “I’m only suggesting these things because I care about the restaurant as much as you do,” she said in what she considered a reasonable tone.

Her mother stiffened and folded her meaty arms over her chest.

Okay, then. “What do you suggest we do instead?” Dani said, oh, so genially.