Chapter Two

      “Feed the dogs?” Frankie rolled her eyes at Mel, who shrugged in reply.

      “It was the best I could come up with spur of the moment.”

      The two of them were in Frankie’s kitchen. Mel sat at the table while Frankie stood at the counter, packing the picnic dinner. Coleslaw? Seriously? Had she chosen that side dish simply because Spence liked her recipe?

      She purposely included a small jar of bread-and-butter pickles in the cooler. Her favorite. Spence preferred kosher dills. She did, however, select the best pieces of barbecue beef. Only because she had a reputation to consider. And, were she honest with herself, an ego that knew no bounds when it came to her specialties.

      “I’m sorry you didn’t get the manager job.” Mel tugged on the empty adjacent chair, bringing it closer and elevating her feet. “That’s just not right.”

      “It’s her restaurant. Tia Maria can hire whomever she wants as manager.”

      “But her nephew?” Mel snorted. “I heard he hasn’t worked in the food industry since college and then as a waiter in a pizza joint.”

      News did travel fast in a small town. “He has a degree in business,” Frankie said.

      “Not the same.”

      “I didn’t have any experience when Tia Maria hired me.”

      “You didn’t start out as manager, either. You worked your way up. The hard way, I might add.”

      “There’s no point rehashing this. She gave the job to someone else. End of story. Seeing as I’m not prepared to quit, I’m staying.”

      Mel looked contrite. “And here I am pouring salt in the wound.”

      Frankie closed the lid on the remaining brisket and returned the storage container to the refrigerator. At the last second, she grabbed a triangle of leftover cherry pie. Adding that to the cooler, she checked the time.

      “I’d better hurry.”

      At the thought of seeing Spence again, her stomach twisted into a knot and sweat broke out on her brow. This was a crazy idea. Maybe she should call and cancel.

      No. She had to find out why he was here, how long he intended to stay and if he’d by chance become father material in these past four years. Only then could she tell him about Paige and Sienna.

      From the living room, she heard the girls playing animal hospital with their stuffed toys, a game inspired by their veterinarian aunt. Giggling and lively chatter assured Frankie that her daughters were getting along for a change.

      “I appreciate you watching Paige and Sienna.”

      “Are you kidding? I love babysitting. And it’s good practice.” Mel patted her protruding belly. “Besides, Aaron’s on duty until ten tonight.”

      “You two set a date yet?”

      Her cheeks colored. “Actually, we did.”

      “When?” Frankie hurried over to give her sister a hug.

      “The Saturday before Thanksgiving.”

      “Why didn’t you say something? That’s only six weeks away. You can’t possibly pull off a wedding by then.”

      “We’re having a small ceremony,” Mel assured her. “Family and close friends. Aaron already had the big shindig with his late wife. I wanted something different. Special and unique for us two.”

      “I’ll cater the reception, of course.” Frankie paused. “You are having one?”

      “Yes.” Mel laughed. “And I wouldn’t dream of having a reception without your food.”

      “Let me know what else I can do to help.”

      Frankie was already contemplating contacting her sisters and stepmom about throwing a bridal shower. They’d better hurry. Next up would be a baby shower. Mel and Aaron may be planning a small wedding, but with the local vet marrying the local deputy, half the town would probably want an invite to one shower or the other.

      A ping sounded from the table, Frankie’s phone emitting another alert. She quickly snatched it and checked the screen. Not a donation notice from her crowd-funding campaign. Just a text from her other sister. She set the phone down.

      “That’s Ronnie. She says practice will run late again tonight, and Sam won’t be home until ten or ten-thirty.

      “She’s really working hard.”

      Sam had turned professional barrel racer after graduating high school and had her heart set on winning a championship title. To accomplish that, she’d first need to qualify for the National Finals Rodeo in December. With Ronnie’s expert help, her chances were good.

      “She’s determined to come back after this last run of bad luck.” Frankie tucked her phone into her purse, which was hanging from the back of a chair. “Two disqualifications in a row and a tenth place. She’s frustrated.”

      “She’s also young,” Mel said. “If not this year, there’s always next.”

      “Yeah. That’s what Ronnie said for ten straight years. She qualified I forget how many times, but never won.” It was their younger sister’s biggest regret.

      Frankie set the cooler on the table. All that remained was to get herself ready.

      “There’s leftover macaroni and cheese and fruit salad for the girls.” She wagged a finger at Mel. “No soda or sweets. I don’t care what you’re craving.”

      It was Mel’s turn to roll her eyes. “I got this. Quit worrying.”

      “I should be back long before their bedtime.”

      “Don’t rush. You and Spence have a lot of catching up to do.”

      Frankie wished her sister would quit smiling. “I’m going to change.”

      In the bedroom, she took much too long choosing what shorts and top to wear. In the bathroom, she fussed with her hair and makeup.

      What had Spence seen when he’d looked at her this morning? Frankie was no longer the thin young woman with long blond hair and an enviable complexion. Her figure had filled out a little after giving birth to her daughters, and she’d cut her hair, opting for a more trouble-free style. Her brown eyes were the same, but these days her skin’s glow came from a bottle of foundation.

      Refusing to admit how nervous she was, she dwelled instead on Spence’s return. If she lived to be a hundred, she would never understand why her sisters had told him about her crowd-funding campaign. When Frankie demanded an explanation, Mel had said they were proud of her and wanted to brag. Besides, he’d asked if she was still catering. What were they supposed to say?

      A short while later Frankie returned to the kitchen, as ready as she’d ever be. Mel pulled her head out of the open refrigerator and gave her a once-over.

      “Nice.”

      “I