Summer at Mustang Ridge Read Online Free Page B

options for a fill-in cook. You have experience in a hotel kitchen, even if it was a while ago . . . and when I talked to you, I liked your vibe.”
    “Not to mention that I blathered at you.” She had started the conversation determined to be professional, but had somehow wound up telling Krista about Lizzie, the therapists, and needing to get away. The knowledge made the churn in her belly worse.
    “I didn’t hear any blathering. I heard a mom who had done everything she could with the resources at hand, and was looking for some new ones. More, I heard about a family that needed someplace soft to land for a little while.”
    “So Lizzie and I are rescues?” It came out sharp, but that’s how Shelby was feeling all of a sudden.
    Krista shook her head. “I’m just offering you some time away from real life . . . and getting my kitchen covered and helping out my gran in the process.”
    Dial it down
,
Shelby told herself.
None of this is her fault
. It wasn’t anybody’s really. Life happened, you took the knocks, and you moved on. She closed her eyes, forced herself to exhale. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a snot. I’m grateful, really.”
    “And you’re road-lagged, worn out, and embarrassed that Lizzie pulled a disappearing act and ended up under one of the horses.” Krista squeezed her arm. “You should see Jenny when she comes in off a long trip, or me after a tough group of guests leaves. You haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of snotty.”
    Suddenly feeling every one of those miles—and the months leading up to the trip—Shelby exhaled. “Thanks. I . . . well, thanks. For everything. Seriously.”
    “You’re welcome, and again, I’m very glad you’re here. Both of you. Now get some rest, okay? I wish I could give you a few days to settle in, but Gran could use you bright and early tomorrow.”
    “I can pitch in tonight, if that’d help,” Shelby offered, hoping she’d say no.
    Krista’s grin said she knew it. “No way—that’d be too cruel and unusual. Tomorrow morning, four o’clock, be there or be square. In the meantime, I’ll have Tipper bring you guys some grub, picnic-style.”
    Which made Shelby feel even worse—about being tired, being snappish, losing her kid, not being sure this was such a good idea in the first place . . . “Don’t put anybody out on our account. Please. I think we’ll just grab our luggage out of the car, finish off our road food, and call it a night.”
    Krista hesitated, then nodded. “If that’s what you want . . . but please remember that nobody here is keeping score. We’re happy to have you.”
    But why
? Shelby thought. She was trying not to be all New England, look-a-gift-horse-in-the-mouth about it, but in her experience, nothing came easy. When it did, there was usually a catch, or something just waiting to go wrong. The beds looked really soft, though, and home was a long way away. So she dredged up a smile. “Don’t speak too soon . . . you haven’t tasted my cooking yet.”

3
     
    A-tisket, a-tasket, a biscuit in your basket!
     
    S h elby’s alarm went off before dawn, and she lay there for a minute, disoriented by the quiet and the clean, fresh air that said she wasn’t in their condo or a highway hotel.
    Where am I?
She was so fuzzy-headed that she almost followed it up with
Never mind that,
who
am I
? But Lizzie’s breathing came from the other side of the room, reassuringly deep and regular, bringing things back into line.
We’re at Mustang Ridge. We made it.
Shelby smiled into the darkness, a little ruefully as she realized she must’ve been tireder than she thought yesterday, to have snapped at her new boss. Granted, the snipe had been pretty low on a scale of one to bitchy, but still.
Oops
.
    A night’s sleep had done her good, though. It would take some time for her to get all the way used to the time difference and altitude, but she was up and moving, and ready to get started earning her