Page 11 of If the Boot Fits

The ramshackle cottage on the edge of town that Mama Bess and the boys had moved into after being forced from their home needed more repair than Asher had time or know-how to provide. Nevertheless, he intended to improve it as much as possible before he left.

Pulling open the back door, Asher inhaled the aroma of fresh-made biscuits. His mouth watered, and his stomach growled.

“Mmm, that smells good.”

Mama Bess looked up from setting a bowl of white gravy on the table. A smile blossomed across her face. “Asher. Come help me with this platter, would you?”

“Of course.” He met her by the stove and reached for the large platter heaped with golden brown biscuits, but she placed a hand on his forearm, forestalling his assistance.

“I’m sorry it’s not the hotcakes you wanted,” she whispered low enough to ensure Jack and Fergus didn’t overhear while they set the table. “I don’t have the funds right now for extras like sugar. There’s no more coffee, either, I’m afraid.”

She looked distraught at the idea of disappointing him.

Asher wanted to kick himself. He never should have hinted at wanting hotcakes. He’d been remembering things as they’d been, not thinking about present hardships.

He grinned and planted a kiss on her cheek. “You know I love your biscuits.” He lifted the platter over her head, not difficult since her dark brown bun barely reached his chin. “And what goes better with biscuits than milk?”

Asher hadn’t had a glass of milk in years. The hands at the Bar 7 would rib him good about drinking a child’s beverage, but if it kept the sadness out of Mama Bess’s green eyes, he’d drink milk with every meal.

How had things gotten so bad that she couldn’t afford basic staples? She must’ve depleted her entire savings trying to keep the house she’d shared with his father. He didn’t have much put by himself, but he’d be sure to stock her pantry before he left.

“Can I use my jam, Mama?” Fergus stood in front of the open cupboard, a half-filled jar of strawberry jam in his hand.

Fergus wasn’t overly fond of gravy.

“Yes, love. Just remember, that’s the last jar. When it’s gone there won’t be more until I can put in a new garden.”

Fergus cradled the jar as if it were filled with precious gems instead of fruit. “I’ll just eat a little. I promise.”

“Share with your brother,” she admonished gently.

“That’s all right.” Jack waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t need any. I’m in the mood for gravy.”

Jack met Asher’s eye from across the table, and Asher gave a nod of approval—big brother to big brother. The kid had really grown up while Asher had been away. Taking on a job. Watching over Fergus. When was the last time he’d allowed himself just to be a kid?

“What time do you have to be at the livery today?” Asher asked him as he took a seat at the table.

Jack slid into his chair and placed his napkin in his lap. “Nine. Haggerty likes me to have all the stalls mucked out before noon.”

“So if we finish breakfast by eight, you might have time for a quick spot of fishing in Eagle Creek if Bruno and I give you a ride?”

Jack’s eyes lit with excitement. “I can be ready in ten minutes!” He grabbed a biscuit off the platter.

“Jonathan Ellis. We say grace before we eat in this family.” Mama Bess froze his hand in midair with a look.

Slowly, he placed the biscuit back on the pile. “Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled at his compliance, then turned to Asher. “Would you do the honors?”

“Of course.” Hoping she could hear the apology in his voice, Asher extended his hands to Jack and Fergus, who were seated on either side of him. They completed the circle by clasping their mother’s hands. Asher’s eyes closed as he soaked up the feeling of family.

“Heavenly Father,” he prayed, “your mercies are new every morning, and we see that in the bounty spread before us. Thank you for good food to eat and loved ones to share it. Give us strength to tackle the challenges that await us today. May we honor you with the choices we make and the actions we take.” Thoughts of last night’s disaster pinched his conscience. “Forgive us when we fail you, and grant us courage to make amends. We ask you to meet our needs and help us to meet the needs of others. In the name of Jesus, amen.”

“Amen.”

As if a racing gun had fired, Jack’s hand shot out to claim a pair of biscuits from the platter. In a blink of an eye, he had them ripped open and gravy poured over their fluffy middles. Mama Bess shook her head but gave no reprimand. Deciding he best be ready, too, Asher wasted no time tucking into his own breakfast. Until he noticed how quietly Fergus was sitting.

Asher set down his fork and reached for his milk glass. “You want to come with us, Fergus?”