The Cowboy's Easter Family Wish. Lois Richer
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Jesse.” Maddie walked with Noah toward the cashier while sorting through what she’d learned about him during her three-year tenure at Quilt Essentials.
Details were scant. Though Emma constantly raved about Jesse; how loving and generous he was, how good-natured his big heart, how his love for God embraced everyone he met, the one thing she hadn’t mentioned was Jesse’s good looks. But then Emma was all about a person’s heart, not their looks. Perhaps that’s why Emma had never asked Maddie about the puckered red scar that ran from her left earlobe down her neck, the scar that made her so self-conscious.
Emma’s friendship had been the lifeline Maddie had clung to—that and her own prayers that God would help her survive her marriage. Emma’s quilt shop was a refuge where Maddie could bury her unhappiness in the comforting textures and glorious colors of fabrics, and let her inner soul come alive in a quilt. That very first day, Quilt Essentials had become Maddie’s sanctuary and Emma the best friend she’d ever had.
Now Maddie pulled out her credit card to pay for her purchases, savoring thoughts of a relaxing evening ahead. Her hobby ranch on the outskirts of Tucson was mostly cactus and desert, but the charming, newly renovated house was all hers, the place where she could be and do what she wanted. And what Maddie wanted was to make Broken Arrow Ranch into the kind of home where Noah could enjoy a happy, carefree childhood while she taught herself to be strong and confident.
So far Maddie wasn’t succeeding at either. No matter how she prayed, she couldn’t shed the memory of Liam’s voice constantly berating her. As for independence—well, learning to stand on your own two feet after a lifetime of having someone tell you what to do was a lot harder than she’d imagined. But she couldn’t, wouldn’t give up, though Noah resisted every change she tried to make.
Some days Maddie almost lost hope that she would ever feel worthy of God’s love, that Noah would make friends, relax and have fun like an ordinary kid. But she didn’t often pray about it anymore, because she figured Liam was right; God probably wouldn’t answer the prayers of someone as unimportant as Maddie McGregor.
They were storing their groceries in the trunk of Maddie’s red SUV when Noah said, “Tomorrow’s Martin Luther King Day lunch. I hafta bring food to school.”
“Why didn’t you tell me while we were in the store?” Maddie masked her exasperation.
“Forgot.” Noah shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Ninety-nine percent of the other kids will bring stuff.”
“I’m sure your teacher expects one hundred percent participation.” She closed the trunk with a sigh. “Come on. Let’s go find something.”
“You want to talk to that guy again.” Noah’s lecture tone reminded her of Liam. “Sometimes strangers form lasting relationships after their first meeting.”
“Lasting relation—what?” Maddie gaped at him.
“Dad would be mad that you like Jesse.” Noah’s dark-eyed gaze met and held hers.
“Honey, your father is gone.” Where did he get these statistics?
“He’d hate Jesse.” Noah kicked a pebble on the pavement. “Dad never liked his kind.”
“What kind?” Maddie asked. The happy kind? The kind of person who doesn’t automatically find fault? “Jesse seems nice. And he’s Emma’s grandson,” she reminded Noah.
“Emma’s nice. But Dad wouldn’t like Jesse.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But that’s no reason for you to dislike him.” Maddie refused to pursue this. They both needed a break from the past. “Let’s quickly get whatever you need so we can get home before the frozen stuff melts.” As they walked across the lot and in through the automatic doors, she asked, “You didn’t get a note from your teacher?”
“Lost it.” He wouldn’t look at her.
“Noah,” Maddie chided, then let it go. He was always ultra responsible. Maybe losing the note was his way of avoiding the interaction of lunch. He wasn’t exactly the social type. “What exactly did your teacher say?”
“Memorize six lines of Mr. King’s speech and bring a food treat that will remind others of it,” Noah recited in a high-pitched, singsong tone.
Maddie hid her smile. His imitation of his teacher, Mrs. Perkins, was uncanny. “Have you memorized a portion of the speech?”
“The ‘I have a dream’ part.” Noah’s chest swelled as he precisely delivered the beginning lines of the famous speech. Then his pride visibly deflated. “I don’t know any food to go with that.”
“I do.” Jesse stood nearby, his wonderful smile flashing. “Sorry, didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but those lines always remind me of Gran’s I Have a Dream snack.”
“What’s an I Have a Dream snack?” Noah asked, seemingly interested.
“It’s pretty easy, Ark Man.” Jesse grinned, and to Maddie’s surprise, Noah didn’t decry the nickname.
“Ark Man?” She wrinkled her nose.
“Like Noah in the Bible, Mom. ’Cause I have Cocoa. An’ there’s a roadrunner that goes past our place, too,” he told Jesse with an eagerness she hadn’t seen—maybe ever? “An’ sometimes coyotes howl. An’ Mom feeds hummingbirds.”
“Wow.” Jesse looked impressed.
“So I guess I kind of am Ark Man?” he said, obviously seeking confirmation.
“Absolutely.” Jesse held up his hand to high-five, and Noah matched it. Both of them wore goofy grins.
Maddie stared at her introverted kid. This change—because of Jesse?
“So, to make these treats you need big marshmallows and some caramels,” Jesse continued.
“I’ll find some.” Noah raced away before Maddie could stop him.
“I’m sorry. I’m interfering without even asking you,” Jesse said after a quick glance at her. “I’ll go get him.”
“Please don’t. It’s the first time Noah’s been that excited about anything since...ever.” Without thinking, Maddie put her hand on Jesse’s arm to stop him, then jerked it away when her brain repeated Noah’s strangers-forming-a-relationship fact.
No relationship for her. Never going to get hurt again.
“I warn you. If this recipe of Emma’s involves baking, it will be a failure.”
“It will?” A puzzled look darkened his blue-eyed gaze. “But it’s simple.”
“Maybe, but I can’t do simple baking,” Maddie admitted. “Actually, I can’t do complicated either,” she added, eyes downcast in a rush of shame. “I’m not a good cook.”
“She’s not,” Noah agreed solemnly, having returned with a huge bag of marshmallows. “Ninety-nine point nine percent of her cooking burns.”
“Noah!” Maddie exclaimed in embarrassment.
“Fortunately, this recipe requires no cooking. Just melting.” Jesse glanced at the marshmallows, then raised an eyebrow at Noah. “Caramels?”
“Couldn’t find any.” Noah looked dejected. “I guess we can’t make the snacks.”
“You can always make I Have a Dream snacks, Ark Man. One hundred percent of the time.” Jesse’s firm tone had the strangest effect on Noah.
“Okay.” His boyish shoulders went back and his face got a determined look that Maddie had not seen before. “How?”
“We find caramels because they’re the best part. And we need cream.” Jesse beckoned. “Come on, you and I will check it out. They have to have them somewhere. Every self-respecting grocery store carries caramels.”
“I