Page 58 of Wilde Hearts

The bell rang on the door as I walked into Bonnie’s Bake House. I wasn’t sure if Ensley was here already. I’d thought about texting the number I used to have for her, but ultimately didn’t know if she’d respond back.

Once inside, it didn’t take me long to find her. She was sitting in a booth, her head bent as she wrote in a notebook. I smiled as I walked toward her.

“I see you still prefer paper over the computer, like my dad.”

Looking up, she smiled slightly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “For my schedule, I do. You’re early.”

I slid into the booth. “You are, too.”

She shrugged. “I had a few errands to run, so I figured I’d do them this morning. And I have a client to visit in the area later this afternoon.”

I nodded. “Speaking of clients, I met with the Long family this morning.”

Her brows rose. “Really?”

The waitress walked up and set a glass of water down in front of me. “Anything else I can get you to drink?”

“I’ll have Dr. Pepper, please.”

The waitress nodded and looked at Ensley. “You still good, darlin’?”

“I am, thank you.”

“I’ll give you both a few minutes to look at the menu.”

Once she was gone, I focused on Ensley. “They were a nice family, but they did mention they’d met with you, as well. I get the feeling they’re leaning toward you.”

She leaned back in the booth. “Why do you say that?”

I shrugged. “I think Milinda liked you. She asked me if I knew the owner of Wilde Gait Keeper.”

“What did you say?”

“I told her I’d known you since we were young, and that I thought you were a very talented farrier.”

The corner of her mouth lifted in a slight smile. “Thank you for that.”

Picking up the menu, I said, “It’s the truth.”

Ensley shut her notebook and pushed it to the side as the waitress came back with my drink. “Do we need more time?”

“If you know what you want, Ensley, please go ahead.”

Ensley picked up the menu and said, “I’ll take the hot turkey sandwich. Sweet potato fries. Do you still have that chipotle mayo?”

The waitress smiled. “We sure do.”

“I’ll take some of that, as well.”

It only took me a second to see that my favorite thing on the menu was still available. I glanced at the waitress—who I swore used to work here ten years ago. She was older, in her early fifties, with light brown hair streaked with gray. “I’ll have the smokehouse Reuben.”

“Side?”

“Sweet potato fries, as well.”

She took our menus and smiled. “I’ll get this in. Let me know if you need anything else.”

Once she was gone, I looked at Ensley, who was staring back with one brow raised.