Carbon Copy Cowboy. Arlene James
carport, slapping a pair of leather gloves against one jeaned thigh.
“That’s my sister, Violet,” Jack said, opening his door.
Feeling suddenly shy, Kendra slowly slid from the truck to the concrete floor of the carport.
“Hey, y’all,” Violet greeted them as Nipper trotted over to give Jack a doggy grin. He bent to ruffle the dog’s fur.
“Sis, this is our new guest.”
“Call me Kendra,” she said, putting out her hand.
Violet gripped her hand with her own smaller one. “Hello, Kendra. Nice to meet you. Welcome to the Colby Ranch.”
“Thank you. I’m very grateful for the invitation.”
“I understand that you were in an accident.”
Kendra glanced at Jack. “Yes.”
“She doesn’t remember anything about it,” Jack said, avoiding Kendra’s gaze.
Violet lifted her slender brows. “That might be for the best. I hear a lot of folks don’t remember accidents. Things just happen too fast to register sometimes, I guess.”
“Actually,” Kendra said hesitantly, looking to Jack again, “I don’t remember anything at all.” Realizing that he hadn’t told his sister about the amnesia, she quickly added, “About myself, I mean. I—I don’t even remember my own name. I don’t know where I’m from, why I was on that road.... Nothing.”
Violet stood with her mouth open for several heartbeats, then she suddenly lurched forward and wrapped her arms around Kendra. “You poor thing!”
Kendra blew out a breath, relieved beyond words. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d have done if your family hadn’t invited me to stay here.”
Violet abruptly backed up, turning her chocolate-brown eyes on her brother. “Yeah. Huh.” She smiled at Kendra. “No problem. Come on in. Dinner will be ready soon.”
Jack lifted a hand to indicate the door, still not meeting Kendra’s gaze. She followed Violet through a hallway tiled with large white squares and on through an open doorway into a kitchen the size of a small airplane hangar. Outfitted with rich, dark woods, pale granite and stainless steel, it boasted a work island easily twelve feet long. Various pots bubbled and simmered on a six-burner, professional-quality stove, watched over by a small, brown-skinned woman, presumably the aforementioned Lupita, with long, dark, silver-streaked hair.
One end of the room opened to an octagonal breakfast area with a large, square table at its center. A carbon copy of Violet with shorter hair stood over a young girl seated at the table, schoolbooks spread out before her.
“Maddie and Darcy, this is Kendra,” Violet said.
“Twins,” Kendra blurted as the woman looked up at her.
The girl, who appeared to be about eight, had a brown ponytail and brown eyes. She smiled at Jack, who winked at her.
Maddie laughed. “Yes.” She nodded at Jack, saying, “He’s a twin, too, you know. He and our brother Grayson.”
Kendra looked at Jack, who frowned before muttering, “I’m gonna get washed up.”
“Dinner in fifteen minutes!” the Hispanic woman at the stove called.
Jack nodded and walked out of the room. Kendra watched him go with a sinking heart. Feeling lost and alone, she smiled awkwardly at the two young women watching her with curious, identical eyes.
“After dinner, I’ll show you to your room,” Violet said to her. She then lifted a hand toward the stove. “This is Lupita. She takes care of us all.”
“Hola,” the woman greeted her.
Kendra smiled. “Hola, Lupita. Por favor llámeme Kendra.”
“You speak Spanish!” Lupita returned with a wide grin.
Apparently, she did, but she couldn’t think where or how she’d learned. “A little,” she murmured self-consciously.
“More than a little, I’d say,” Violet commented. “Maybe you can help Lupita dish up while I set the table in the dining room and Maddie makes sure Darcy gets her homework finished before her dad comes for her.”
“I’d be glad to,” Kendra said, moving toward the stove, from which delicious smells animated. One she recognized. “Fried okra.”
“Sí, Señorita Kendra. It is one of Jack’s favorites.”
“It’s one of my favorites, too,” Kendra said, but then she knew that was not quite right. It was the favorite of someone else, someone close to her, but when she tried to think who it could be, she got nothing. Shaking away the troubling thought, she took the slotted spoon that Lupita offered her and began dipping out the crisp, golden rounds from the fat simmering in a large cast-iron skillet on the stove. “You use a combination of cornmeal and flour for the breading, I see,” she noted.
“But dip the cut okra in egg first,” Lupita confirmed with a pleased nod.
“I do the same,” Kendra murmured, wondering how she could know these small things about herself and not know the important ones.
Swallowing, she concentrated on frying the next batch of okra while Lupita forked a stack of ham steaks onto a platter and began making gravy. Checking the other pots on the stove, Kendra found green beans and boiled potatoes.
“Should the potatoes be mashed?” she asked Lupita.
“Yes. I use the electric mixer on the counter. Milk and butter in the refrigerator.”
Setting to work, Kendra drained the potatoes, added the milk and butter and whipped the lot into a thick, creamy consistency. As she turned the creamed potatoes into the serving bowl that Lupita set out for her, she heard heavy footsteps behind her, then Jack asked, “What are you doing?”
She glanced over her shoulder then back to the objects in her hand. Wasn’t it obvious?
“Miss Kendra knows her way around the kitchen,” Lupita announced proudly, but a glance showed Kendra that Jack’s frown had only deepened.
“She’s not here to work.”
Baffled, Kendra set down the pot in which she’d mixed the potatoes and pivoted around. “Why shouldn’t I help out? What else am I going to do? I certainly don’t want to sit around all day worrying about what I can’t remember.”
Jack grimaced then pointed to the bandage on her head. “Don’t forget that you’re still injured.”
She lifted a hand to lightly finger the adhesive bandage. “This is minor. It doesn’t even hurt.”
“It did enough damage to cause amnesia,” he grumbled. “That’s not what I call minor.”
Aware of Lupita’s interested gaze avidly moving back and forth between them, Kendra nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Jack just looked at her, his hands sweeping from the side pockets of his jeans to his back pockets, as if they couldn’t quite decide where to light. Then his gaze fell on the platter of ham steaks waiting on the island. Without a word, he picked it up and carried it out of the room. Kendra turned back to the chore at hand, only to find Lupita leaning to one side in order to send a look around her to Maddie, her eyebrows slowly lifting.
“What?” Kendra couldn’t help asking. Lupita just folded her hands, a blank look on her face. Kendra turned to Maddie, but she, too, had put on a bland expression.
“Oh, nothing,” Maddie said. “I’ve just never seen Jack carry food to the table before.”
Lupita snorted. “He sits, he eats, he leaves.”
Kendra didn’t know what to say to that or if it even warranted comment. After all, he