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Brooks smiled indulgently. “I know. But we’ve all had a long ride home and I imagine Frankie and Jo could use some help getting Earl inside and settled, too, don’t you think?”
Cheyenne sighed, the sound an equal mixture of frustration, anger, and resignation. “I guess.”
They all exited the truck, and for the next half hour, the sounds of truck doors opening and closing, trailers being unhitched, and hooves stepping across metal echoed over the grounds. The night air was cold, and Jo shivered as she helped Frankie and Cheyenne get Earl inside the house and to the kitchen table in his wheelchair.
Earl was cold, too. He sat in his wheelchair, clutching his gray sweater around his shoulders, shivering.
“Let me get you some coffee, Earl,” Jo said, crossing the kitchen to where the coffeemaker sat on the counter. “I bet you’re freezing after that walk outside and probably starving from the long drive.”
Though they’d split the hours of the drive back to Lone Oaks over two days, they’d had to take several breaks along the way and had gotten a late start that morning, causing them to arrive home later than expected. They’d last stopped for lunch around noon, and it was after seven in the evening now.
“I expect he’s going to need more than coffee.” Frankie, standing by the kitchen window, staring out at the others as they unloaded Another Round from the trailer and walked him to the stable, faced Jo, an expectant expression on her face. “Do you know what day it is?”
Jo sifted through a basket on the kitchen counter, looking for a pod of Earl’s favorite coffee to put in the single-serve coffee maker. “Yep. It’s Wednesday.”
“Yes, it’s Wednesday,” Frankie repeated. “But what’s the date?”
“It’s the twenty-eighth of December,” Jo said.
“Exactly.” Frankie propped her hands on her hips. “We’ve spent the last week so focused on that darn race that we missed the most important part of the week.”
Jo’s hand stilled around the coffeepot, her gaze rising to meet Frankie’s. “Christmas,” she whispered. “We’ve completely missed Christmas.”
“Yeah.” Cheyenne plopped in a chair beside Earl at the kitchen table and rested her chin in her palms. “We missed presents, cards, decorations, ham, pecan pie—”
“I have a ham in the fridge,” Frankie said, thrusting one finger in the air. “And a pecan pie in the freezer.” A second finger joined the first, then a third. “And I think there are some green beans in that freezer, too.”
Jo smiled. “Either way, that sounds like enough food to feed the lot of us and give us a reason to enjoy each other’s company without any stress for the first time this week.”
Frankie nodded. “Sounds like a winning plan to me.”
One hour later, Jo, Frankie, and Cheyenne had managed to round up enough food to create a small feast for Lone Oaks’s racing team. While Brooks, Lee, and Nancy settled Another Round in the stable for the night, Jo, Frankie, and Cheyenne worked feverishly in the kitchen to rustle up an impressive, though belated Christmas dinner comprised of ham, green beans flavored with the ham bone, creamed corn, some dinner rolls Frankie had bought prior to their trip, and a recently warmed pecan pie for dessert.
Cheyenne, having caught the Christmas spirit at some point during the process, had even found a white lace tablecloth on a shelf in the pantry and spread it out on the kitchen table along with enough place settings, silverware, and glasses of ice for everyone.
Frankie, who’d frequently glanced out of the kitchen window as they’d cooked, checked it one more time, then waved Cheyenne over toward the front door. “Cheyenne, run on out there and ask those three to come on in, please. They look about done out there and the food’s ready.”
Cheyenne complied eagerly, her hunger the driving force if the rumbles from her stomach were any indication.
Jo and Frankie had just finished filling each glass of ice with sweet tea when the front door opened, and Cheyenne returned with Brooks, Lee, and Nancy following close behind.
“Oh, my word,” Nancy said, “what’s that wonderful smell?” She walked into the kitchen behind Brooks and Lee, then stopped in her tracks as she spotted the food-laden table. “That looks delicious. I’m starving!”
“Well,” Frankie said, “we figured y’all were starving just like us and we got to thinking that we all missed a decent Christmas dinner together, seeing as how we were so focused on the race and all.”
Jo waved a hand toward the table. “Please, have a seat, everyone. We’ll say the blessing and dig in.”
It was a tight fit, but they managed it.
After everyone was settled, Jo looked at Cheyenne. “Would you like to say the blessing, Cheyenne?”
Cheyenne, seated opposite Jo, held her gaze for a moment, then looked around the table and shrugged. “Sure.” After everyone bowed their heads, she began. “Dear Lord, thank you for letting there be a ham in Frankie and Earl’s fridge. And the pecan pie in the freezer. I love pecan pie. The green beans I could’ve done without, but I suppose the pie will make up for it.”
A strangled cough emerged from the end of the table and Jo cracked open one eye, catching sight of a grin on Lee’s face.
“Thanks for letting Another Round race, too,” Cheyenne continued. “Except for him losing. You could’ve gave him that one. I mean, you know how hard we’ve worked and—”
“Cheyenne.” Jo met her eyes across the table. “Let’s keep it humble and grateful, please.”
