Page 10 of A Cowboy to Call Her Own

“Does it help if I told you I didn’t get the entire table wrong?” Frannie countered, her hands clasped behind her back. “Just this double-decker club that should be on white not wheat.”

Hayes Stroud returned from his break and cast a look of sympathy toward Frannie. Then the retiree turned full-time cook tossed his support behind Frannie and said, “Everyone should really include more wheat in their diet. It’s good for the digestion.”

Frannie grinned and piled on. “Whole grains are recommended by nutritionists for a well-rounded, heart healthy diet.”

Kelley ground her teeth together. The benefits of whole wheat aside, this error made thirteen tables with incorrect orders in one shift. Her little sister had collected a baker’s dozen of mistakes, which was two more than yesterday’s shift. Kelley washed her hands in the sink and dried them. “But wheat bread is not what the customer wanted.”

Frannie lifted her chin and argued, “Well, big sister, if you would just make your blackberry bacon grilled cheese, everyone would want that and not the same old, boring double-decker club.”

Hayes murmured something that sounded like agreement.

“It’s not my menu.” Kelley made her way to the food line and set about making the correct double-decker club sandwich. A minute later, Kelley held the plate toward her little sister, who waited at the service counter.

Frannie never reached for the plate and asked tentatively, “Can you deliver it, please?”

Kelley glanced through the pass-through window into the dining area and frowned at the two familiar twenty-something cowboys seated at a window booth. Luke Connelly was the nephew of Sullivan Connelly of Connelly Thoroughbred. Luke always made sure to let anyone within hearing distance know he’d recently been promoted to assistant manager, right under Sully’s son, Patrick. Kelley glanced at her sister and asked, “What happened?”

Frannie’s chin jutted out. Irritation made her words all the more brisk. “Nothing happened. And do you know why?” Frannie leaned forward. Her gaze narrowed. Her arm cut through the air. “Because Luke laughed at me when I asked if he would talk to his family about me possibly apprenticing there.”

Her sister’s bottom lip trembled. Kelley stiffened.

“Luke told me that I’m not good enough,” Frannie added, a quiver in her chin. “And that I’m not cut out to be a jockey.” That miffed tone in her words gained momentum. “Andthat I will have more success waitressing.”

There were suddenly things Kelley wanted to tell Luke on behalf of her very talented, athletic little sister, who was more than capable of being a very good jockey. “What did you say to him?”

Frannie’s gaze sparked. “I told Luke that girls can be jockeys, too.”

Hayes added, “That, they sure can.”

Kelley appreciated her little sister’s mettle and said dryly, “I’m sure Luke had a response for that, too.”

“He told me that being a girl has nothing to do with it.” Frannie’s bottom lip quivered again. She brushed the end of her ponytail back off her shoulder and avoided looking at Kelley. “He claims I’ll never be as good as a real jockey because if it was in my blood, I wouldn’t need to ask a favor from him. I’d already bein.”

Kelley sighed. How many times had her ex-husband gently reminded Kelley that her cooking roots came from a diner, not an upscale urban restaurant? Culinary school aside, Kelley’s pedigree was forever lacking in her ex-husband’s eyes, too.Watch out. I promise I will be more than a footnote in the culinary scene. Her ex-husband had given her a half smile and a bland,I hope sobefore handing her divorce papers.

Frannie sniffed and blinked away her tears. Kelley was quite skilled at that, too. Kelley set the plate back on the counter, wrapped her arms around her sister and said, “What does Luke know anyway?”

It was true the Munroe family did not have an established equestrian racing lineage. Horseracing was definitely not in their bloodline like some of the families in town. The Munroe family provided support services to those racing families throughout the generations. Their family tree was full of firefighters, deputies, schoolteachers and even a mayor. But that did not make Frannie less-than. Kelley would argue Frannie had more passion than most of the locals with racing in their DNA.

Kelley added, “I can’t even remember the last big race any of the Connelly racehorses took first place in.”

“You wouldn’t know.” Frannie rested her head against Kelley’s shoulder and sniffed. “You haven’t been to the racetrack since you’ve been home, and you never followed it in New York.”

“Well, I will definitely follow it when you are in the starting gates.” Kelley pulled away and looked her sister in the eyes. “And I do know this. It is still light out. If you leave now, you can get a ride in before dinner.”

Frannie sniffed again and said, “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Go on.” Kelley released her sister, motioned toward the cookline then said, “Hayes and me have got this.”

“Thanks.” Frannie hugged Kelley, took off her apron and paused long enough to accept the triple chip cookie Hayes snuck her from the secret staff stash. At the back entrance, she called out, “Kelley, text me when you are finished here and I’ll come back to pick you up. But not before six. I want to squeeze in a gym workout after my ride.”

The door clicked shut before Kelley could tell Frannie not to worry about it. She would catch a ride home with Hayes.

“You can’t keep cutting that girl loose,” Hayes said, a slight scold in his words. Yet, there was kindness in his gaze. “She’s never going to learn how it works around here that way.”

“And you can’t keep sneaking her cookies whenever she’s upset,” Kelley said then added, “Besides, we need to face the facts. My little sister has got a head for horses, not food service.”

“Truer words,” Hayes muttered and handed Kelley a triple chip cookie.