“Got my eye on a cute little filly. She’s a beauty. I can see her potential. She’s going to be strong with a lot of stamina.” He glanced at Teddy, who was standing with his arm around Esmeralda and suddenly, he lost his train of thought, seeing how happy they were. He mentally shook himself. “Hey, Teddy, what was her name? The pure black one with the white sock.”
“Dynamite, but you can change that if you want.”
“Why would I? It’s perfect for her.”
“Glad you think so.” Jake chuckled. “I named her. Trained her, too. She responds best to a gentle touch.”
“Well, everything’s ready, except for the steaks.” Hilde peeked out the window. “Now where did that boy disappear to?”
It was at that moment that Heath rushed into the house, carrying a mountain of steaks, grilled to perfection, on a huge platter. “Steaks are done! Let’s eat!”
Wyatt grinned. The Silva family seemed like a well-oiled machine as all of the side dishes were plated up and brought into the formal dining room he hadn’t known existed. He’d been to the ranch many times, but never really ventured further than the kitchen, the barn, or the stable. Why would he? The kitchen was where everyone gathered and there was always something baking.
“May I escort you?” He held out his hand to Sheridan.
She looked up at him, her eyes the green of spring leaves seeming a little darker than usual. “That would be lovely.” She placed her hand in his. He felt the warmth of her touch all the way to his heart. For reasons he couldn’t explain—or perhaps,didn’t want to—that same heart seemed to pick up an extra beat. He was happy. Truly, extraordinarily happy. Was it because he was here, in the midst of this big, boisterous family? Or because he held her hand?
He thought it might be the latter. He glanced at Lucy. Had she invited Sheridan to dinner on purpose?
It didn’t matter. He was here. And he was holding Sheridan’s hand. For the moment, all was right with the world.
He led her to a seat in the middle of the long table, then took his own, as Heath walked around with the platter of steaks and allowed everyone to choose, until he stopped beside Sheridan.
She looked at the steaks, either undecided on which one she wanted or uncomfortable with the family-style dinner. Perhaps, she’d never dined like this, in the midst of so many people. Maybe at that school for girls where she taught, the students and teachers didn’t eat together. Maybe Sheridan preferred to eat alone or had been forced to by the rules of the school.
“How do you like your steak?” Heath asked.
Sheridan looked unsure. “I don’t know. I’ve never had steak cooked on a barbecue before.”
“You’ve never had barbecue?” Heath asked, his surprise evident.
She shook her head.
“Then I would suggest the medium rare,” Wyatt offered. “That’s the most flavorful, in my opinion.”
“I agree.” Heath turned the platter around and nodded to the steaks that were closest to her. “These are all medium rare.”
Sheridan’s fork hovered over the selection of meat until she finally chose a smaller piece and put it on her plate, just in time for Catalina, who sat beside her, to hold the bowl of sweet carrots out to her.
“Here, let me help you.” Wyatt took the bowl from Catalina’s hand then leaned toward Sheridan and lowered his voice. “Relax, Sherry. You’re doing fine.”
She gave him a slight nod then spooned carrots onto her plate as another bowl, this one filled with mashed potatoes came her way. She plopped a fluffy dollop next to the carrots, starting, apparently, to get more and more comfortable. She even accepted the basket of bread, then passed it along after taking her piece.
He watched her cut a small piece of steak and pop it into her mouth, the action simple and ordinary, yet somehow, sensual. Her eyes closed as she chewed, and a slight sigh escaped her.
“This is delicious. My compliments to the chef.” She glanced at Heath, who beamed, then passed her gaze over everyone at the table. “It’s all wonderful.”
Dinner was a lively affair, as he knew it would be, with multiple conversations around the table. Even the children participated. One could join in on whichever discussion one wanted to. He didn’t. He just kept glancing at Sheridan, watching her eyes light up, watching that smile become more and more permanent on her lips, hearing her laugh as she responded to something someone said, all of which made his heart happy.
“Are you enjoying yourself?”
She turned toward him, her eyes filled with joy. “I am.” Her voice lowered so no one else could hear. “This is so different than anything I’ve ever experienced. Lucy’s family is warm and generous and accepting. They all seem so happy.”
He glanced around the table, filled with sons and daughters, mothers and fathers, aunts and uncles—both by blood and adopted—and could only imagine how different this was for her. She’d only spoken of her grandmother and her aunt. Was there no one else?
His focus came back to her, and he noticed how quickly her happiness faded. A small frown wrinkled her brow, and she was once more seemingly uncomfortable.
“What’s wrong?”
