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“For you, Quinn, Abbie, Beth, and Jake?” She laughed.
“Sure. Why not?”
“I said I cook. Not that I’m great at it. Jeez.” Forking a slice of beef, she chewed it, hoping Logan would let the idea go.
“Sunday. Neither of us works. You’d have all the time needed to make Sunday supper. Tell me what you need and I’ll buy it.”
Aware those across the table were listening, she set down her fork. “Fine. I’ll grill six steaks. Corn on the cob. Don’t husk them. Idaho russet potatoes. Not those teensy ones in the store. I’ll bring the salad, bread, and dessert.”
He stared at her again. “You’re really going to cook for us?”
“Heck yes. I refuse to back down from a cooking challenge. Besides, I heard Beth has an incredible kitchen.” Sam smiled at Daisy and Lily. “And if I mess something up, Abbie and Beth will be there to bail me out.”
Chapter Five
The plan to barbecue at the Kelman Ranch almost got scuttled when a thunderstorm broke loose as Sam seasoned the steaks. The men grabbed the combination smoker with grill, placing it just inside the barn. While Jake and Quinn leveled it, Logan raked away stray hay and stall bedding.
The potatoes were already in the oven. She’d placed the salad in the refrigerator, and the bread and pies on the kitchen counter. Beth and Abbie had set the table, placed out glasses, and pulled serving bowls from the cupboards. The next task involved avoiding the rain while carrying a platter of steaks to the barn. The last involved dashing through the open barn doors, avoiding the mud and growing number of puddles.
“Hold these.” Sam handed the platter to Logan, who lifted the plastic wrap. “Hey, leave those alone.”
“Checking to see if you seasoned them correctly.”
Removing her coat’s hood, she lifted a brow. “Sure you were.”
Ignoring his laugh, she lifted the lid of the grill. The men had seasoned it and turned on the flame.
Logan stood on the other side of the grill, watching and commenting as the steaks cooked. “Don’t you think they’re done?”
She tested them. “Another minute.”
“All you did was touch them.”
“Hey. I watched Bobby Flay do it on TV. He knows all about his stuff.”
“I hope so. Those steaks cost me a week’s pay.”
“Not hardly.” She tested the steaks again. “A few more seconds.”
Logan held out the platter. “I like mine rare.”
“I know. You’ve told me about a dozen times.”
“Quinn likes his medium.”
“Right.” Placing two steaks on the platter, she waited another minute before adding four more steaks alongside the others. A minute later, she added the last steak to the platter. “That’ll do it.” She looked at Logan. “There are six of us. Why a seventh steak?”
“Benny Takada, a good friend of Quinn’s, is joining us.” He looked toward the road. “That’s him now.”
A truck, its tires, front, and sides covered in mud, stopped not far from them. A man about Quinn’s age with black hair, dark brown eyes, and a ruddy complexion got out.
Logan motioned for Benny to follow him and Sam into the house. The three rushed to the door and dashed inside.
“That’s quite a storm.” Benny placed his hat on a hook and slid out of his coat. “How are you doing, Logan?”
“Great.” He turned toward Sam, who’d walked to the counter to set down the platter. “Sam, this is Benny Takada, one of the premier Wagyu beef specialists in the country. Benny, Samantha Miller. She works at Whistle Rock Ranch.”
They exchanged greetings, Benny moving to the counter to check out the steaks. “Those look great. What can I do to help?”
