The Maverick Returns. Roz Denny Fox

Willow tossed her head. “Back when you took off for the rodeo, did I also tell you that you’re the bossiest person I’d ever met?”

       “Not that I recall. I think I’m very reasonable.”

       “Bossy! I’m not going to be your short-order cook, Coop. But since you were so kind as to fill my fridge and cupboards, pray tell me what your heart desires for your evening meal,” she said saucily.

       He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t buy this stuff to make your life more difficult, Willow. You choose something out of what I bought. But please, put a little meat in whatever you fix.” He headed for the door, then stopped. “Uh, you haven’t become a vegetarian, have you? The way I remember it, you used to make a tasty pot roast. Oh, and burgers. Nice, fat ones.” He gathered up the empty grocery sacks and carried them to the screen door. Calling back over his shoulder, he said, “And meat loaf. You made a damn fine meat loaf, Willow.”

       Willow wasn’t quick enough with a retort, though he probably wouldn’t have heard, anyway, as the screen door banged shut in his wake. She leaned a shoulder against the edge of the kitchen doorway. For several minutes she did nothing. It wasn’t until she shook herself alert that she realized she’d been smiling. Something she hadn’t done much of over the past several years. It felt unfamiliar. But good, too, she thought as she turned and saw that Lily had stacked the blocks in neat rows, not only by color, but with the letters all facing the refrigerator. Willow’s heart nearly burst with hope and pride and gratitude to Coop. Lord, he was a good man.

       So, why did she want him to leave? Why did she feel such guilt over his landing on her doorstep? She had plenty of answers, but she needed to keep them to herself. Anything else would be unfair to the man she’d pushed out of her life five years ago.