Claiming The Cowboy's Heart

Her mother nodded. “She started it last summer, after she saw the movie.”

“The movie?” Macy echoed, because she was pretty sure that the local movie theater would have shown more than one movie the previous summer.

“Book Club.”

“Ahh, that makes sense,” she said, helping Max finish his breakfast.

Bev stacked three pancakes on a plate, added four strips of bacon, then set it on the table. “Eat while it’s hot,” she instructed her daughter.

Macy picked up a slice of crisp bacon, nipped off the end. “I’m glad the pediatrician finally approved the introduction of solid foods for Ava, Max and Sam,” she said, pouring maple syrup over her pancakes. “They’re definitely sleeping for longer stretches now and waking up happier.”

“You’re grumpy, too, when you’re hungry,” her mom noted, bringing her own plate and mug to the table to eat with her daughter.

“Is that why you always have breakfast ready for me when I get up on a Saturday morning?”

“One of the reasons,” Bev acknowledged. “Another is that I really do enjoy having someone to cook for.”

“You cook for Dad,” she pointed out.

“Bacon and eggs. That’s what it’s been every Saturday morning for forty years.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to eat bacon and eggs.”

Her mother shrugged. “It seems like too much bother to make something different just for myself, but it’s a pleasure to make it for you.”

“Maybe I’ll make breakfast for you tomorrow,” Macy offered impulsively.

“You’ve got enough to do with three babies without worrying about cooking for anyone else,” Bev protested. “Plus, you’ve got to get ready for your first day at your new job on Monday.”