Chapter 10 #2
Damn it. He hadn’t spoken to them in so long…too long.
He’d lost his way back.
Brody wanted to help him. The surprise of that—of his wild, irresponsible baby brother coming through for him instead of the other way around—would have been far more potent if he wasn’t here in this very spot facing his nightmares because of Brody.
Griffin hadn’t called home, and there was great shame in that, but he knew the pain of hearing his parents’ voices would break him.
They’d want to talk about what had happened, and he just couldn’t go there, not even for them.
Couldn’t relive the incident that had led to so many deaths, not unlike the fire he had to face today—
Footsteps sounded behind him. The denim-covered legs that appeared in his peripheral were tight and toned.
“Well, look at that, you’re so eager you’re waiting outside for me.” Lyndie came down the stairs so that she stood right in front of him. “Or maybe you just want to get it over with?”
Her hair was still damp, the fiery auburn strands cut in those short, chunky layers that framed her small, heart-shaped face. She smelled like strawberries today.
He loved strawberries. “Take your pick.”
“The latter,” she decided. “You definitely have the look of a man who needs out of here.”
The front door slammed again. Rosa came out on the porch wearing a gauzy skirt and blouse as bright as yesterday’s, and carried a tinfoil-covered plate. “You,” she said, and jerked her chin at Griffin. “You are in trouble with me.”
He craned his neck to look around, but nope, she had to be talking to him.
“You did not eat.” She thrust out the plate, which he took rather than see it tip into his lap. Then, standing right in front of him, she put her hands on her hips and waited.
He glanced at Lyndie, who only lifted a shoulder.
“She’s the boss,” she said. “I’d do what she says.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not that hungry—”
“Tallulah!” Rosa had caught sight of her dog and dropped to her knees in the dirt, opening her arms. “Mi querida, what happened to you?” She touched the white bandage beneath the dog’s eye.
“I think she put her nose where it didn’t belong,” he said. “I cleaned it up so it wouldn’t get infected.”
Rosa kissed Tallulah, then looked at Griffin. “You are a doctor?”
“Paramedic training, that’s all.”
“And a true hero.” Rosa gave him a big hug, and Tallulah—still in her arms—licked his face from chin to forehead. “Héroe mío. No way are you going to work all day long without a good solid base.” Rosa pointed to the plate. “That is a good solid base, I cook it myself.”
“Thank you—”
“So eat. And you—” Rosa pointed at Lyndie, whose strawberried lips went from smug to surprise. “I double load that plate. Sit your pretty little butt down next to him and dig in.”
Lyndie shook her head. “I grabbed a few tortillas off the counter. We have to go.”
“It’s not quite six. You’re early enough, the sun just barely coming up.”
Lyndie opened her mouth, probably to give another argument, but Rosa merely pointed her finger to the spot next to Griffin. With a roll of the eyes, Lyndie sat.
He opened the foil. Eggs, beans, fresh tortillas… The delicious scent wafted up and tickled his nose, coaxing his stomach to rumble hopefully. “Rosa, you’re amazing.”
Lyndie let out a snort but scooted her “pretty little butt” closer and grabbed a chorizo, a spicy Mexican sausage.
The door slammed again, and out came Tom, who eyed the plate with interest.
“Don’t even think about it,” Rosa said and held him back. “I just fed you.”
Tom patted his flat belly. “Can never get enough of your cooking, Rosa.”
Rosa patted his flat belly, too, and smiled fondly. “Is that right?”
Tom smiled at her for a long moment, then turned to Lyndie. “You be careful up there today with your asthma, you hear me?”
“I’m always careful.”
Tom jutted his chin toward Griffin. “You watch her, you keep her safe.”
Griffin felt each of those words of responsibility like individual gunshots to his gut. “I will.”
“I’m not Griffin’s responsibility,” Lyndie said. “He’s mine.”
Griffin snorted. “I take care of myself—”
“Uh-huh.” She grabbed another chorizo, the last one, and he stared at the plate in regret because though he hadn’t thought himself hungry, it turned out he was.
Her eyes on his, Lyndie fed it to him, her finger touching his lips, making him stare at her as all sorts of interesting reactions occurred within his body.
Tom watched all this and chuckled. “You can take care of each other,” he decided, looking pleased as he once again turned his charm on Rosa. “So are you going to make some of that magical, soul-enriching coffee this morning?”
Still holding Tallulah, she gave him a sideways glance. “Are you trying to charm me because you are too lazy to make your own coffee?”
“Why…is it working?” Reaching out, he pet the dog, who panted happily.
“Not so much.”
“No? Ouch, then.”
Rosa let out a slow, indulgent smile. “You silly man.” She touched his jaw. “You know I always have coffee for you.”
Tom’s return smile was slow and sweet. He started back in the house, then glanced at Griffin. “Oh, and I located another tractor for you. It’ll be up there sometime this morning, after I make the rounds. I’ll come up, too, and lend a hand, or whatever it is I can do to help.”
“Bring the latest weather report.”
“Will do.” He turned back to Rosa, smiled into her eyes. “You take care of yourself.”
“I always do.”
And then he was gone. Rosa went inside, too, leaving Griffin with Lyndie. Alone.
Not a state that he felt comfortable with. “Let’s do this,” he said, and drew in a deep, fortifying breath.