Down Home Cowboy

“Come on. I’ll walk you inside.”

The fact that she didn’t argue with him confirmed his suspicions about the fact that she did want his help. As soon as they entered the bakery Violet scampered behind the counter, grabbing an apron as she went, disappearing into the kitchen. A few seconds later, Alison appeared.

She was wearing much the same thing she’d worn yesterday, all that red hair piled on top of her head again. She looked up, pausing, her expression like someone who had been hit by a truck. “Oh. I didn’t realize you were here,” she said, reaching up and patting her hair, then dropping her hand quickly and smoothing her apron in what looked like a nervous, fluttery motion.

He affected her. He made her nervous. Well. Hell.

“I figured I would walk Violet in. I know she’s late.”

Alison frowned. “Right. I put her to work on cupcake duty. I really needed the help this morning.”

“Her alarm didn’t go off. You know how phones are.” Or, he figured it was something to do with the phone. He didn’t really know how phones were. He had no clue what he was saying.

“She needs to get a backup,” Alison said, her tone not unkind, but definitely firm. “But I have no trouble talking to her about that. She’s sixteen, I think she can take the responsibility for it.”

That rankled a little bit. Because he had decided to come in and take the responsibility for it. Because he wanted to be the hero here. Violet might be too little for him to pick up and put on his shoulders, but he could do this. “Yes,” he said. “But she is still learning. She’s never had a job before. And she’s used to me getting her up in the morning for school. But with the way things are working here at the ranch I’m out early. I wasn’t back in time to be her backup today. And she’s not used to that. She’ll learn, but you can’t expect her to get it right the first time.”

Alison blinked. “Are you scolding me?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about that,” she said, resting her elbow on the counter and leaning in ever so slightly.

“You don’t seem too offended,” he said, resting his own elbow on the counter and moving in toward her.

“I’m in my place of business,” she countered. “So I’m being measured in my responses.”

“I would hate to see your temper in full force.”

“Is that a redhead joke?”

“I don’t think so.” He leaned in just a little bit more, and when her breath caught, an answering catch hit him low in the stomach. “You seem a little defensive about that though. It makes me think people have commented on your temper before.”

“Not for a while,” she said, a soft smile playing with the edges of her mouth.

He wanted to taste that smile. And again, like she’d done the first time they’d talked here in the bakery, she licked her lips, as if she could read his mind about all the tasting he wanted to do.

“Alison, the rest of the cupcakes are too hot to frost.”

Both he and Alison looked up quickly, Alison’s head whipping back toward the kitchen, when Violet came out wringing her hands and looking lost.

Violet. Yes. He had brought Violet to work. And he had been... Well. Damn. He had been flirting with her boss. And he had decided he wasn’t going to do that.

“That’s fine,” Alison said. “You can watch Sabine do doughnuts. It’s pretty easy. I think you’ll be able to pick it up pretty fast.”

“Bye, Dad,” Violet said, turning and heading back into the kitchen. Clearly, he was dismissed.

“I’d better get back,” he said. And he really needed to get his damn head on straight.

“Right. Well. Get your daughter an alarm clock.”

He touched the tip of his hat with his fingertips and drew it down. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, thickening his drawl on purpose.

He wasn’t sure what he expected, but he liked the result. The color rose in her cheeks, pretty and bright, and for a moment he just enjoyed the sight. He wasn’t going to do anything about her response to him, but, apparently he hadn’t forgotten how to do this entirely. That was good to know.

“I’ll be back later,” he said. And he didn’t wait for her response before he walked out of the shop and back onto the street.

* * *

ALISON WAS STILL flustered a couple of hours after Cain left. She had been ready to stand firm when it had come to Violet and her lateness. But then... Then... Stuff had happened. And she still wasn’t entirely sure what it had been. Well, okay, it had been flirting. She was reasonably sure. But why? Why did she have to respond to him like this? And what was even the point of him making it blatantly obvious that he was...that there was electricity between them?

She heard a loud groan from across the kitchen, and turned just in time to see her problem child pulling another sunken cake out of the oven.

She could fire Violet. She could blame it on the cake. No one would ever have to know it was because she thought Violet’s dad was hot.

No. She wasn’t going to do that. The entire cornerstone of her business was helping women. If she compromised that mission because of a man... Well. Hypocrisy, that’s what it was.

“You’re still having trouble, Violet?” she asked, once she had her rogue thoughts under control.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” She looked so distressed that all of Alison’s petty thoughts faded away.

“I’ll tell you what. I’m going to help you. I’m going to spend extra time on this with you.”

Violet shifted uncomfortable, tucking a strand of dark hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. “I don’t know if I can get down here for that. Or stay late or anything. My dad has to get up super early to work and I don’t have my license yet.”

“Okay,” Alison said, feeling determined now. She had been passive, once upon a time. That was not her way now. Now, when she got the bug to do something, she dug her heels right in. “Is there space to cook at your place?”

“I guess so. We’re staying in my uncle Finn’s house, and his kitchen is gigantic.”

“Do you think anyone would mind if I came over after shift and helped you with a few things?”

Violet blinked, obviously surprised by the offer. “No. Probably none of them will be around. Finn will be with Lane, my dad will be... Well, anywhere but in the house. My other two uncles... Mostly I don’t want to know what they’re up to.”

She wasn’t quite sure what to make of the comment about her dad, but it suited Alison to think he wouldn’t be around. “Perfect. Actually, if you want to text your dad and let him know that I can drive you home...”

Violet frowned. “You don’t have to do that. It seems like you’re doing an awful lot for me.” And that clearly made the teenager uncomfortable. But Alison was willing to make her uncomfortable for the sake of proving she was valued.

She’d needed that. And no one in her life had given it.

“Yes,” Alison said. “I am. But you should never feel like you don’t deserve that, Violet.” Alison felt passionate about this part of her job, about this part of the bakery, and her calling. Because she had spent so many years living in a dark hole. Thinking that she didn’t even deserve to see the sun, not after what she had submitted herself to for so many years. It was difficult to ask for help when you’d half convinced yourself that it was your own fault you needed it.

Now that she was in a position to offer help to other people, now that she wasn’t in quite such a desperate situation, she wanted them to feel the freedom in accepting help. In feeling that they deserved it.

Especially somebody as young as Violet. She wanted her to always know that she could ask for extra help if she needed it. That she wasn’t a burden. That she could offer help herself when she saw the need, and she was able.

“I don’t understand why you’re being so nice,” Violet responded.

“This is something that I can do. I’m good at baking. And I’m good at helping other people learn how to do it. Or if not baking specifically, then job skills in general. Why wouldn’t I want to pass that on?”