Page 14 of The Cowboy and the Stray

Midge saved me from having to break the brittle silence, coming over with a heavy ceramic dish. "Hope y'all are hungry. Cod was on sale at the market."

She started dishing out generous portions, the white flaky fish swimming in a butter sauce flecked with herbs. I inhaled appreciatively. Midge could make anything taste like a slice of heaven.

Tess methodically picked up her fork, eating the roasted potatoes and green beans, but nudging the fish to the side of her plate.

Midge raised an eyebrow. "Not a fan of cod, honey?"

Tess's shoulders hunched, but she met Midge's eyes. "I'm sure it's delicious. I've just never been much for the texture of fish." I didn't fully mind the texture. But I'd made fish for Lance once and ended up wearing it. It had kind of turned me off of seafood ever since. Hopefully one day I could enjoy some fish sticks without bad memories, but it hadn't happened yet.

Sloane let out a little scoff, and Midge sniffed, but she let it drop. The clatter of silverware filled the gaps between stilted attempts at conversation.

"Y'all ready for the supply run tomorrow?" Buck asked, scooping up a forkful of potatoes. "I'm fixin' to get me some new boots. These old dogs are 'bout worn through."

"You've been saying that for years, old man." Jace looked at Buck skeptically. "Those boots'll outlive us all."

I cleared my throat. "Tess, you got anything you need from town? We can pick it up for you."

Her eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by the direct question. "Oh, um. No, I don't think so. I packed light."

Sloane muttered something that sounded a lot like "I'll bet."

"So Tess." Eli leaned forward with his elbows on the table. "What'd you do, before you ended up here?"

My little brother would challenge a bull to a stubborn contest if given half a chance. I threw him a warning look, but he just shrugged, unrepentant.

Tess pushed her beans around with her fork. "A little of this, a little of that," she said, trying for casual. "Waiting tables, mostly. You know how it goes."

"What's that like?" Gray asked. I glanced at him in surprise. He rarely spoke at meals unless spoken to. Rarely spoke at all, really.

Tess looked up, something unreadable flickering across her face. "It's a lot of late nights and greasy food. And knowing how to balance a lot of plates at once." She looked down at her plate, then said, "I finally learned how to do five at once."

"No way," Eli hooted. "I don't buy it. Prove it."

Tess hesitated, glancing around the table. Midge was studiously not looking at her, focused on cutting her cod into precise bites. But the others watched her, curiosity and challenge in their eyes.

She stood up. "All right, fine. Somebody hand me those."

She pointed at a stack of empty plates on the sideboard. Gray grabbed them and placed them down in front of her. Deftly, she settled them along her arm until she held three on one side and two on the other.

Then, moving slowly and deliberately, she wove between the chairs, the plates never wobbling. She circled the table and set each one down in front of each of us with a flourish.

There was a beat of surprised silence, then the table erupted in whoops and applause. Even Midge cracked a smile. Tess sketched a little bow, her cheeks pink. Only Sloane looked on disinterestedly. One of these days, my sister might actually sprain her face from frowning too hard.

"Better than the time Calder tried to impress that county judge's daughter at the Fourth of July picnic and dropped a tray of ribs on Buck," Reid said dryly.

Traitor.

"Still got the judge's daughter's number," I shot back. That set them all off again, guffawing and pounding the table.

For a moment, the tension broke, replaced by the easy ribbing and laughter of a pack who knew each other so well. But Tess stood on the edges of it, not quite belonging.

She sat back down quietly, her smile fading.

The rest of the meal passed in fits and starts of conversation that never quite warmed up again. Midge served cobbler, but Tess just pushed it around on her plate, her shoulders tense and miserable.

Finally, she set her fork down with a soft clink. "Thank you for dinner," she said, her voice barely carrying over the chatter. "I think I'm going to turn in early, if that's all right."

Midge just nodded, but something like sympathy flitted across her weathered face.