by R. C. Ryan
“A manicure? To shovel manure?” Ingrid looked horrified.
“Not only a manicure, but a pedicure as well,” Nessa declared. “Think what a beating our poor feet take. Trekking up and down pastures. Locked in heavy work boots for days and weeks. Wouldn’t it be fun to have your feet massaged with oils and your toenails painted a pretty shade of pink?”
Lily and Ingrid turned to one another with matching looks of amazement, as though they’d never even thought of such a thing.
But it was Grace who said, “You may have something there, Nessa. I do believe I’ve been mistreating my poor body for a lifetime. I just hope, if we decide to take you up on your suggestion, this old body doesn’t go into shock.”
The four of them laughed as they climbed down from the truck and carried their parcels through the mudroom and into the kitchen.
When Vanessa handed Ingrid her bag of clothes, the young woman jiggled the bag. “This feels heavy.”
She opened the bag, and for a moment was speechless. Finally she lifted out the colorful T-shirts. “Whose are these?”
“Yours.” Grace shared a knowing smile with Vanessa. “Once we knew your size, and how great you looked in that pretty teal shirt, we agreed that you needed a few more.”
“Gram Gracie, I can’t—”
“Too late. They’re already bought and paid for. Now why don’t you take them upstairs and, after a shower, decide which of them to wear this evening for dinner.”
Ingrid pressed a kiss to the older woman’s cheek and then walked over to do the same for Vanessa. “You two are very good at keeping secrets.”
“Yes, we are.” Nessa caught her in a hug. “Now I’m heading upstairs to shower and change.”
The young women ran upstairs, with Lily and Grace following at a more leisurely pace.
When the men returned from the hills, they trooped up the stairs to shower and dress for supper. By the time they came downstairs, Grace and the girls were gathered in the sitting area of the kitchen, sipping their drinks and talking quietly.
Luke snagged a longneck from a tray on the counter and ambled over, stepping up between Reed and Colin to listen to Grace give a rambling commentary to Frank about their day.
Then he spotted Ingrid, her cap of fair hair curling softly around her face, eyes bright with laughter, a smile curving her lips. Frank moved, settling himself next to his wife and giving Luke a clearer view of Ingrid.
For a moment Luke forgot to breathe. Instead of her baggy shirt, she was wearing a tee of bright red, with a softly scooped neckline that revealed a hint of darkened cleft between her breasts. The material clung to her like a second skin, revealing that amazing body she’d always taken such pains to hide.
She lifted the glass of pale wine to her mouth and took a sip. Luke swallowed when she did and could have sworn he could taste her wine and, more, her lips. Just thinking about it had his pulse racing. Sweating, he lifted the chilled bottle to his forehead.
When he caught his grandmother staring at him, he couldn’t help giving her one of those rogue smiles. Her own smile bloomed.
“I believe I’ll have some ice water, Luke.” Grace continued watching him as he turned away, then returned with her drink.
As he handed it to her, she said, “Gorgeous view, isn’t it?”
He leaned close. “Yeah. And you’re one sly woman, you know that?”
She managed to look every inch the prim-and-proper lady. “I do indeed.”
Chapter Eighteen
While the others took turns describing their day, Ingrid’s phone vibrated in her pocket. When she lifted it and caught sight of the caller’s name, she stood and made her way to the far side of the room, speaking softly.
Nadine’s voice was high and shrill. “I drive all the way from Wayside, thinking I ought to look in on my family, and what do I find? An empty ranch. Nobody here. Where the hell are you?”
“We’re staying with…friends.”
“And Mick?”
“He’s here, too.”
“Do these friends have a name?”
At the fury in her mother’s tone, Ingrid felt her heart drop to her toes. She glanced across the distance that separated her from the others, talking and laughing with such ease, and realized that the chasm between herself and them had just widened considerably. How could she have ever believed she had the right to be here with these good people?
“Well? Who are these so-called friends?”
Ingrid stepped into the mudroom, fearful that her mother’s voice would be overheard during a lull in the conversation. “Luke’s family.”
“You’re at the high-and-mighty Malloy Ranch?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’ve been asking around. According to folks in Wayside, the Malloy family is the closest thing Montana has to royalty.”
“Nadine, that’s not…” Ingrid sighed. There was so way she could describe or defend the decent, loving people she’d met here. “We’ll be home first thing in the morning.”
“Don’t hurry back on my account.” The conversation ended with an abrupt disconnect, followed by silence.
When Ingrid returned to the others, Luke put a hand on her arm. “Everything all right?”
“Fine.” She couldn’t meet his eyes as she added, “That was Nadine. She’s”—she shrugged—“her usual self.”
Luke hated the way the smile had been wiped from Ingrid’s eyes. Leaning close, he whispered, “I’ve been wanting a chance to tell you how great you look.”
Her frown deepened. The brief conversation with her mother had her in a defensive mood. “Is that a code word for sexy?”
“Miss Larsen, I’m shocked and appalled.” He said it so sternly it took her a moment to realize he was having fun with her.
She gave his shoulder a quick punch. “Very funny, Malloy.”
“But I had you going there for a minute.”
“Only for a few seconds.”
Luke was relieved to see her smile return.
When Yancy announced that dinner was ready, they gathered around the big table. Luke held a chair out for Lily, and then another for Ingrid, before taking the seat beside her.
Yancy had carved up several roasted chickens before arranging them on two big platters. He handed one to Frank at the head of the table and a second platter to Nelson at the opposite end. They, in turn, began passing them around, along with bowls of buttered mashed potatoes, tender garden beans, and sourdough rolls warm from the oven.
Old Mick took a taste and looked at Yancy. “I hope you’ll give me this recipe.”
Lily turned to stare at him. “Just so you’re not thinking about cooking Little.”
“Little?” Reed paused in the act of passing the rolls.
Lily dimpled. “Little is my pet chicken. I raised her from when she first hatched.”
“A pet chicken?” Reed gave a quick laugh. “Does she sleep at the foot of your bed like a dog?”
Mick winked at Lily before saying to the others, “When Lily was four, Ingrid used to read stories to her every night. One of them was about Chicken Little and the sky falling. The next time a brooding hen brought her parade of chicks from the henhouse, Lily adopted the smallest one and named her Little. For a year or more she used to dress that chicken in doll clothes and push her around the yard in a doll stroller.”
Lily smiled, remembering. “Until Little got too big and wanted to be with the other hens.”
Reed looked around the table. “So, Little turned into Big?”
They all laughed. Even Lily joined in.
“And now,” Mick added, “Little is way too old and tough to worry about ending up on anyone’s table. That old pet is queen of the henhouse.” In an aside he said to Yancy, “But I’d still like your recipe. This is the best darned roast chicken I’ve ever tasted.”
“I’ll write it down for you. Promise.”
Yancy picked up a basket of rolls. “Who wants the few that are left?”
“I wouldn’t want them to go to waste.” Burke helped himself to one and passed the basket to Reed, who took two, and then to Matt, who took the last one.
Luke tried to shame Reed. “You should have left one for our company.”
Reed held up a roll. “How about it, Ingrid? Lily?”
When the two sisters shook their heads, he raised a brow at Luke. “You really wanted this for yourself, didn’t you, bro?” Before Luke could reply, he popped it into his mouth. Then, with a grin, said, “Oh, sorry. But I was afraid the sky was about to fall, and I wanted to save you from choking.”
Around the table everyone was chuckling when the back door was thrown open with such force, it banged against the wall.
Luke, Reed, and Matt had already shoved back their chairs, prepared to do battle with some unknown intruder, when a figure stepped into the kitchen. A figure in tight, skinny jeans, fringed boots, and an off-one-shoulder top that exposed most of a lacy bra. Her red hair was piled on top of her head and held in place with a giant plastic clasp. The smell of her sweet perfume preceded her, drifting around her like a cloud.
Nadine put a hand to the kitchen counter to steady herself as she took her time studying the faces of all those at the table, before her gaze finally settled on Ingrid. “Well, here you are. I bet you weren’t expecting to see me, were you?”
Luke’s family turned to Ingrid.
In a subdued voice she managed to say, “This is my mother, Nadine Larsen.”
Grace was the first to recover her composure. Pushing away from the table, she crossed the room and caught Nadine’s hand.
“How nice to meet you. I’m Grace Anne Malloy.”
In short order she proceeded to introduce all those around the table. The rest of the men, having recovered from their surprise, got to their feet.
“Nice to meet you all.” Nadine waved a hand. “No need to stand on ceremony. I can see you’re in the middle of supper.”
Grace led her closer. “You’ll join us.”
Yancy had already brought a chair to the table, placing it beside Grace’s.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Nadine settled herself at the table. “Something smells good.”
“Roast chicken.” Grace took her seat and held a platter, allowing Nadine to help herself. “And Yancy’s mashed potatoes. Always a favorite around here.”
Nadine took a spoonful before holding up her hands. “That’s enough. I need to keep my girlish figure.” She looked around the table. “I’ll say this, Grace. You sure do have a bunch of handsome men in your family.”
Grace gave her a smile. “Thank you. I have to agree with you.”
Frank, watching as Nadine buttered a roll, remarked, “Ingrid said you were out. I assume you were with friends.”
“Yeah.” She shot a sly look at her daughter. “Friends. Just a nice, sociable evening. Or three,” she added with a giggle.
She pushed aside her plate after just a single taste of everything.
Grace seemed surprised. “You’re not hungry?”
“I ate earlier. With my…friends.”
“Well then.” Grace glanced across the table at Yancy. “I think we’ll take our desserts and coffee in the great room.”
He nodded. “You folks go ahead and I’ll just cut up those pies cooling over on the far counter.”
“Pie?” Luke’s eyebrows shot up. “Fresh apple?”
“They are.” Yancy’s grin was quick. “Just for you, Luke.”
As the family began pushing away from the table, Frank took Gracie’s arm, leading the way to the great room, leaving the others to follow.
When Luke offered his arm to Ingrid, Nadine grabbed his other arm. “I’m impressed. Are the men in your family always such gentlemen?”
“We do our best.” He stepped back to allow Nadine and Ingrid to enter ahead of him. When he turned, he saw Reed escorting Lily, who was more subdued than he’d ever seen.
He tugged on a lock of her hair. “What’s wrong, Li’l Bit?”
“Nothing.” She paused, then stepped back, signaling for him to wait with her.
When the others left the kitchen, she tugged on his arm to stoop down. The minute he did, she put a hand to her mouth to whisper in his ear, “Now that Nadine’s here, does this mean we can’t play cards?”
He knelt down and looked her in the eye. “Her presence doesn’t change a thing.” He saw the doubt and knew the little girl’s fear wasn’t just about playing cards. Though she was just a kid, she knew that her mother’s behavior was out of place. Especially now that she’d had a glimpse of a different sort of family than hers. “As soon as we’ve had our dessert, I want my chance to beat you at Fish. Okay?”
Her eyes widened. “Okay.”
He stood and took her hand. “Come on. I’m betting there’ll be ice cream to go with that apple pie.”
“We had ice cream today in town,” she said as they entered the great room. The others looked up as she took a seat by the fireplace.
Nelson said, “You went to I’s?”
She nodded. “When I read the sign over her shop, I didn’t understand, so Gram Gracie told me to say it out loud a couple of times. As soon as I did, I got it.” Her smile was back, blooming at the memory. “I’s Cream. Isn’t that funny?”
“It is. Not to mention clever.” Nelson, charmed by the little girl’s story, found himself getting into the spirit of the moment. “Why hasn’t a dairy started calling its product Moo Juice?”
“Or,” Reed put in, “why didn’t a certain gifted director we all know and love call himself Art Tistic?” When the rest of the family erupted with a series of boos, he shrugged. “Hey. At least I tried. Can any of you do better?”
At his dare, everyone was tossing out clever names and titles, such as the new tailor in town calling himself “Lord And Taylor” and the veterinarian calling himself Hannibal the Animal Doctor, and the clinic’s Dr. Cross calling himself Happy Not Cross. That, in turn, had the others teasing Colin about Dr. Cross’s niece, Anita.
Though Colin refused to answer their taunts, he was grinning like a teen.
Yancy entered the room, shoving a trolley loaded with a carafe of coffee and mugs, along with slices of apple pie and a container of vanilla ice cream.
He held up an ice cream scoop. “Who wants ice cream on their pie?”
Minutes later, he began passing pie and coffee around. The family was full of compliments as they dug into their desserts.
“None for me,” Nadine said as he paused beside her. “But I’ll have one of those longnecks on that tray over there.”
Yancy returned to hand her a cold beer.
She looked over at Lily, who had taken a seat as close to Ingrid as possible. “You get any closer, you’ll be sitting on her lap.”
Ingrid drew an arm around her little sister, who kept her head down, making swirls in her ice cream with her spoon.
To break the tension she could feel between the two sisters and their mother, Grace smiled at Nadine. “Now that we’ve had a chance to get to know your daughters, we’re thoroughly charmed by them.”
“Oh yeah. They’re real charming.” Nadine tipped up the bottle and drained it.
“Having only sons, I feel especially lucky to have spent the day with them. We had such fun, as I’m sure you’ve had through the years.”
Instead of a reply, Nadine held up the empty bottle as a signal to Yancy, the way she would at a saloon.
He heaved himself out of the chair and brought her another.
“Thanks.” She looked around at the others. “This is like having your very own butler. I could get used to this. All I can drink and handsome men for company.”
In the silence that followed, Luke motioned to Reed. “I think you and I should challenge Ingrid and Lily to a game of cutthroat Fish.”
Lily looked up. “What’s ‘cutthroat’?”
Reed stood and towered over her with a mock leer. “Be warned, little lady. You’re about to find out.”
“Oh boy.” She turned to Ingrid. “Come on. Even if it’s cutthroat, we can beat them.”
The four gathered around a card table in the corner of the room, where Reed proceeded to shuffle the cards and deal them out.
While some of the family continued to make small talk, the rest of them gathered around the table to watch the action.
Nelson turned to Yancy. “Another fine dessert. You just keep on outdoing yourself, Yancy.”
“Thank you, Great One. Ready for a nightcap?”
Nelson nodded and smiled a thank-you. Minutes later Yancy handed him a glass of fine brandy.
Seeing it, Nadine sidled over and pulled a chair close to Nelson. “Now that looks good.” She turned to Yancy. “I’ll have what he’s having.”
The cook walked away and returned minutes later to hand her a drink.
“Why did he call you Great One?” Nadine asked.
Nelson stretched out his legs toward the warmth of the fire. “That’s the nickname my grandsons gave me years ago, and it stuck.” He looked at her. “Why do your own daughters call you Nadine?”
She smiled. “It sounds so much younger than Mom, don’t you think?”
His expression hardened. “I can’t think of a more beautiful name than Mom, or Mama, or Mother. There is nothing more important in this world than being a mother.”
“Easy to say when you’ve never been one.” Nadine polished off her drink in one long swallow and leaned her head back.
“But I had one. My own mother was one of the finest women I’ve ever known. Though she was a perfect lady, she allowed me the room to develop my talents, even though she understood nothing whatsoever about filmmaking and no doubt thought it a foolish waste of my time and talent. In fact, she…” His words trailed off when he realized that the woman beside him was snoring. Her chest rose and fell with each breath. Her mouth had gone slack, presenting a picture that was not at all flattering.
Seeing that her glass was about to spill its contents down the front of her shirt, he took it from her hands and set it aside.
He looked at his daughter. “Grace Ann, I believe our…guest needs a bed.”
