Chapter 22 #2
He parked in the spot behind the garage door that most visitors parked in. The back of the large log cabin wasn’t as impressive as the rest of the house and it was hard to judge the true size of the place from this angle. Perhaps that was why I preferred to enter through the back.
When my sisters and I had been brought here the first time, the house had loomed dark and intimidating.
I’d still been in pain and scared, but as soon as Mae had opened the door and appeared so joyous to meet us, a lot of the fear had left.
After that, the main entrance and exit had been the back door, and the home had started feeling like ours.
I liked that the appearance never changed, only the variety and number of cars parked outside. Cruz’s pickup and Lane’s new truck were gone. I didn’t know where Mama had run them off to, but I was grateful for the space.
Jonah had been good about being out and about in Bozeman. He actually seemed to enjoy going to places where he wasn’t recognized and he blended in, instead of one of the locals everyone was poised to comment on.
We hadn’t been out together yet in Bourbon Canyon, but Mama’s place was closer. Tonight was a step in the right direction.
Mama opened the back door as we approached. “Come on in, kids. The roast is almost done.”
I walked into the warmth of the kitchen. This room was always hotter than the rest of the place because it was where Mama spent much of her time making coffee, preparing meals, peeking out the kitchen window that overlooked the barns and shops and pastures that were closest to the house.
“Can I help with anything?” I shrugged out of my coat and Jonah took it from me. I gestured to the hooks on the wall behind the door. He put our jackets there.
I pushed up the sleeves of my top. It might be early April, but sweater weather wasn’t quite over.
I’d wanted to dress up just a little. Tonight was like a date.
I wasn’t nervous in the same way I usually was when introducing a date to my parents.
I knew Mama loved Jonah. She knew his story, and she understood his trauma.
She’d worked with too many foster kids to not know the effects someone’s childhood had on them. She was supportive and understanding.
I was more worried that Jonah would decide that doing anything more than dinners and casual sex in Bozeman wasn’t worth it.
That he’d rather have his quiet days in his shop and not be bothered.
He’d rather be the mountain ghost kids murmured about—poor Eli Dunn’s older brother, who kept to himself and made gorgeous furniture.
“Go ahead and grab something to drink.” Mama went to the oven. “Help yourself and have a seat at the table.”
I went to the fridge and pulled out two cans of Coke.
Jonah nodded his thanks, and I led him to the table that Mama had shortened to fit only four to six people.
With all its leaves in, the thing could seat twelve, plus more if we added a card table at the end for kids.
We’d done that a few times when we had foster siblings in or when one or more of us had friends over, and we were close to doing it again now that Mama was getting grandkids.
Place settings were already in three spots, and a leafy green salad with colorful chopped veggies rested on one end. I slid onto a chair and patted the seat next to me. He caught my eye when he sat, and I snickered.
His brows drew together. “What’s so funny?”
“You look like Mama’s going to ask if you’re defiling her daughter.”
He leaned over. “I am. That’s why I’m so goddamn nervous.”
“Mama supports a good defiling.”
The tips of his ears turned pink. “I didn’t need to know that.”
“All right.” Mama bustled in, her floral hot pads gripping a steaming pot. She set the food on a trivet. A sliced roast with potatoes and carrots.
Jonah arched a brow at me. “Now I know where you get your recipes from.”
Mama glanced between us.
The tips of his ears stayed red. “Summer has made me the same thing a few times.”
Mama beamed. She was a progressive woman, but she also liked when her kids picked up their domestic talents from her. “I bet it tasted amazing. Summer’s a good cook.”
“Especially with fresh veggies. I heard those are critical.”
It was my turn to blush.
We filled our plates. The tinkle of silverware filled the air.
“This is really good, Mae,” Jonah said.
Mama’s proud grin never got old. She showed her love in many ways, but feeding others was at the top. “I hope you don’t mind if I ask . . . How are your parents doing? I heard they’re moving.”
I glanced at Jonah. He was nodding while finishing chewing. He hadn’t spoken much about the move, or about his mom and dad.
He wiped his mouth with a napkin before he spoke. “They’re selling the main acreage the house is on and two pastures, maybe more. I bought the land my house is on when I built the shop.”
“They have a buyer already?” Mama asked.
“Rhys Kinkade.”
They were selling to Rhys, and Jonah hadn’t thought to tell me? “Junie’s ex?”
“They were only high school sweethearts,” Mama said like she was calming me down.
Only. If people had been certain Eli and I would walk down the aisle, then they’d have bet their life’s savings on Junie and Rhys.
They’d been hot and heavy from middle school to their graduation year.
Then Junie had left to make a career in music, and Rhys had stayed behind.
He’d gotten married, and then his wife had left him and the girls.
I didn’t know the story behind their split—actually, I didn’t know why he and Junie had broken up either, but we all assumed she’d wanted to tour and become a big name and he’d wanted to keep his roots in Bourbon Canyon.
“I didn’t remember they’d dated,” Jonah said.
I gawked at him. “They used to hang out with me and Eli.”
Jonah’s guarded gaze caught mine. “I was in my own world.”
Mama’s chuckle smoothed over the tension between us.
“You and Teller and the other boys were usually gone doing your own thing.” Her smile was kind.
“I’d say up to no good, but we all know that wasn’t true.
Darin and I used to joke that our income went up when you boys started hunting.
We could sell more beef and eat off the wild game and birds you all caught. ”
The corners of Jonah’s eyes pinched. “I suppose that still happens for you?”
Mama shrugged. “You know. Life happens. Tate moved, and now he’s back, but with three little kids, he doesn’t have time to hunt.” She snorted. “Chance sure isn’t interested. He knows how, but only because he claims it’s an important skill if the apocalypse happens.”
The corner of Jonah’s mouth tipped up. He was reserved tonight, like he was afraid to open up around Mama. This had to be weird for him.
“Teller and Tenor don’t get out as much as they used to,” Mama continued, “but they’re also more involved in the ranch and distillery than ever since Darin passed. I’m glad they had the years of freedom they did.”
His jaw tightened. “Yes.”
“More potatoes?” Mama asked. “I’m going to blink and it’ll be time to plant more. I hope we have a good growing season like we did last year.”
What had bothered Jonah? Had Mama sensed his discomfort and changed the subject?
I was worrying too much. But Jonah and I might be navigating our relationship on two different timelines, and if that was the case, I didn’t know if I should slow down. If I pressured Jonah to speed up, we might only reach the end sooner.