Chapter 14 #2
They both looked at him with extreme interest in their eyes, but they didn’t ask any questions. At least not verbally. Dawson shifted his feet and started toward the house. “She’s gonna be okay,” he said. “How’d the meeting go at the school?”
“Fine,” Duke said. “The teacher is going to put Morgan in another group, and April…well, she wasn’t wrong.”
“She’s just like….” Zona didn’t finish, and Caroline certainly wasn’t going to fill in any adjectives.
“Abrasive?” Dawson suggested. “Fiery, like you? Grumpy, like you?” He looked from Zona to Duke, clear challenge in his lifted eyebrows. Then everything about him softened, and one corner of his mouth kicked up. “Seems to me, y’all created this problem yourselves.”
Duke looked like he’d just had ice water thrown in his face. Zona blinked a couple of times and looked at her husband. “He’s not wrong. We’re like vinegar and baking soda combined. No wonder she’s this way.”
“She’s no way,” Dawson said. “She’s your daughter. Your smart, free-thinking, beautiful, talented, a-little-on-the-brusque-side, daughter.”
“A little?” Duke asked.
“Have you met yourself when you haven’t eaten?” Dawson asked, opening the front door to the farmhouse. “She’s fourteen. You’re forty-five. Give her some time to grow into herself.”
The scent of something spicy hit Caroline’s nose, and her stomach growled in the most embarrassing way possible. Both Duke and Dawson chuckled, and the latter drew her closer as he took her into the house. “Hungry, huh?”
“I guess so,” she said.
“Smells like chili,” Zona said, and Caroline completely agreed, though she hadn’t been able to place the scent before.
“I hope you’re ready for something amazing,” Dawson said as the front of the house opened up to the back. While it looked old on the outside, the interior of the farmhouse had been completely updated at some point in the recent past.
The living room she walked through held beautiful furniture in a deep, dark brown leather.
A hutch of trinkets stood beside the window to her left, and then a large dining room table took over the initial space in the kitchen.
It pushed back through the house, with glinting silver appliances, and an island that held a feast fit for a king.
Or maybe just sons. Cowboys.
“We’re here, Momma,” Dawson said. “Duke and Zona pulled up at the same time.”
His mother turned from the kitchen sink, where she stood with another younger man—clearly Dawson’s brother. Besides April, she didn’t see anyone else.
“Oh.” His mother stopped completely, and Caroline’s face heated slightly. She glanced at Dawson, who everyone seemed to be looking at, and April stepped over to the sink.
“I’ve got the rest of these, Grams.”
The teenager’s words seemed to thaw Dawson’s mother. “Thank you, dear.” She quickly wiped her hands on her apron, her smile blooming to life.
“Momma,” Dawson said, a growly undertone to his voice. “This is Caroline Thompson. She’s the woman I told you about.” He held absolutely still, not a swallow or a blink in sight. “Where’s Daddy?”
“He’s finishing up with the well out back,” his mom said.
Dawson nodded, his gaze flitting toward the back windows. “Caroline, this is my mother, Abby. My daddy is Wade. He’ll be in soon, I reckon.”
Caroline smiled with all she had as she stepped away from Dawson to greet his mother.
“It’s so wonderful to meet you,” she said.
“I hope there’s enough for me. Dawson just invited me randomly.
” She laughed lightly, though what she’d said was true.
“I mean, I guess—” She glanced over to him and tucked her hair behind her ear.
“I surprised him by showing up on the ranch, and I don’t think he could stand to have me delay his lunch. ”
“Now that sounds about right,” Duke said as he eased to kiss and hug his mother hello. Then Caroline remembered that this was not his biological mother. He’d come from Wade’s first wife, and Caroline was impressed with the love and care coming from Duke.
“My brother Brandon,” Dawson said, nodding to the man standing at the sink, now drying his hands on a tea towel with a brightly colored chicken embroidered on it.
He nodded to her, his smile bright and so unlike Duke’s or Dawson’s.
She even looked between the three of them, and nope.
Brandon did not fit. He was lighter in every way, from his hair color to his eyes to his personality.
At the same time, he fit with them, what with the shape of his jaw and the slope of his nose.
“Hello, Abby,” Zona said quietly as she too hugged the other woman. “Thank you for making lunch.”
“It seemed like a chili kind of week,” she said, turning to survey the countertop. “Now, we don’t need to wait for Daddy. He said not to, and you know how he is.”
Caroline didn’t, but murmurs of assent ran through the rest of them. She took in the quartered quesadillas, expecting to find a pot of chili to match the smell wafting through the house. But she couldn’t find it.
She saw bowls of shredded cheese, sour cream, diced tomatoes, guacamole, and as she watched, April turned from the sink with one of freshly washed shredded lettuce.
“April,” Abby said. “Will you pray?”
The girl froze, her eyes wide like twin full moons.
Caroline’s heart skipped and shrunk, then pounded forward like she’d been holding her breath underwater for a long time. “I will,” she blurted out.
Dawson looked at her. Abby looked at her. Brandon, Zona, and Duke looked at her.
“If it’s okay with April,” she said, trying for a fun, friendly smile for the girl who still hadn’t moved. Silence rained in the house, and Caroline wanted to walk out of this tension.
“It’s fine with April,” Dawson said quietly, giving the girl a nod. “Go ahead, darlin’.”
“Darlin’?” Duke muttered as Caroline lowered her chin and folded her arms.
And just like that, words failed her. She’d prayed hundreds of times. Thousands probably. At least, especially since she’d prayed dozens of times each day as she went through her separation and divorce. She honestly didn’t know how she’d have made it out alive otherwise.
Something slid along the floor, and someone coughed, and then Caroline practically yelled, “Dear God,” into the stunted, soul-sucking silence.
The back door opened with a man saying, “That blasted well is going—oh.”
Caroline looked over to Dawson’s daddy, who quickly swiped his cowboy hat from his head, his eyes squeezing closed as he held it over his heart.
“We’re grateful to be in Three Rivers,” she said, not even sure where the words came from.
They sounded so stupid, as the Rhineharts lived here.
And had for years and years. At the same time, she wondered if they even knew how special their small town was.
If they even knew how good their lives here were.
“We’re grateful for Abby for making this food. If it tastes half as good as it smells, we’re going to eat like royalty today.”
Dawson’s hand slid along her waist, and Caroline melted into the touch.
“Bless the food that it’ll keep our bodies healthy and strong, and our minds clear and able to make decisions.
Bless our hands that we can do good, and bless our eyes to see those around us who need help.
Then, bless us to get out of our minds and offer our assistance, as each of us has so much to offer to those around us. ”
She honestly had no idea what else to say. She wasn’t even sure what she’d already said, but she had uttered some gratitude and something about a blessing on the food, and she figured she might as well wrap up this massacre.
“Amen.” The two-syllable word scraped her throat, and Caroline dropped her hands back to her sides, opened her eyes, and leaned into Dawson.
No one moved or said anything. They didn’t even seem to be breathing. They all stared at her, and as she looked from April to Abby to Brandon to Wade, it seemed to be for a different reason for each of them.
April seemed shocked. Abby grinned like a mother hen who’d welcomed home a long-lost chick. Brandon mirrored April, and Wade wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion.
“Well,” Duke said. “I think that was about perfect.” He smiled at Caroline as he reached to pick up a plate. They so weren’t eating chili for lunch, but the scent in the air…. “It’s sure nice to have a different voice say a prayer.”
“What does that mean?” Dawson asked, plenty of bite in his tone.
“It means,” Duke said as he picked up four quarters of a quesadilla to make a whole one on his plate. “That Caroline.” His eyes switched to hold hers. “Said some real nice things. Good reminders, that weren’t the same rote stuff we say at our house.” He glanced at his wife. “Right, Zona?”
She cleared her throat and said, “Yeah. Yep.” She too picked up a plate, but Caroline watched as Duke mounded shredded cheese onto each quesadilla. “I’ve forgotten to be grateful for where I live. It was a nice reminder.”
“I liked the part about our hands needing to be blessed to do good,” Brandon said.
Duke turned and put his quesadillas in the microwave, but Zona added cheese, dolloped on sour cream, then piled on lettuce, tomatoes, and guac before she took her plate to the table.
“What is happening here?” she murmured to Dawson, who hadn’t moved to get in line. His father now washed at the sink, and April had gotten in line behind Brandon.
“It’s a chili quesadilla,” he said. “You just have to imagine a bowl of chili—with all the stuff. Cheese, green onions, sour cream—inside a tortilla.” He indicated she should go in front of him, and Caroline knew his mother wouldn’t get food until every one of her chicks had it and was eating.
“It’s like a taco almost,” April said. “I love ‘em, and my grandma knew I was in big trouble today, so I’m pretty sure she made them just for me.”
“That’s not true,” Abby said quickly. “I started the chili last night, sweetheart, and no one knew you were in trouble then.”