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Afton appeared on the other side of the screen door. She was in a princess dress I doubted she wore to school, but what did I know about kids’ fashions? “Mom, Landon said I have to set the forks, but it’s my day to do napkins.”
“It’s Monday. Who does forks on Mondays?”
“Landon.”
“Okay, then Landon can set the forks.”
Landon stuck his head out from what must be the kitchen. “But I already did napkins!”
Emery looked between them as if she was running football plays through her head. This was the chaos I’d anticipated, and like expected, Emery didn’t shy away. “Afton, can you set the forks today? Landon made a mistake.”
Afton’s expression was scandalized. “But—”
“Please.” Emery’s tone said Afton was setting the damn forks no matter what.
Afton stomped away, and Emery lifted her eyes to the sky. “Come on in. Hope you like shredded chicken.”
I followed her into the house and was wrapped in homey warmth. It was the time of year when it was too cool to have the AC on and too warm to turn on the heat. Her place was on the warm side, probably a solid five degrees hotter than I kept my house.
But the aroma of barbecue chicken hit my nose, and my stomach rumbled.
The lived-in home. Home-cooked food. I didn’t get this unless I was the one cooking and inviting people over.
Emery looked over her shoulder, and for the first time since the night at the bar, she smiled, and it punched straight to my gut. The woman from the bar and the woman in front of me were one and the same. “Hungry?”
“I’m always hungry.” That was the truth, but if there weren’t so many kids around, I might’ve meant something else.
We rounded the corner and entered the kitchen, and four pairs of eyes stared at me. Riley was wiggling on what looked like the top of a high chair strapped to a metal dining chair. The other three kids were lined up on a bench from biggest to smallest, and there was an open seat at the head of the table. The table itself was a good size. The room wasn’t. How’d she fit that thing through the door?
“Pick a seat.” Emery went to a cupboard and dug out buns.
“Can I grab anything?” I wasn’t used to being the one entertained. Mom wasn’t a cook. I had made meals for me and Nora. Mom usually grabbed something in town. If she invited a guy over, she picked up something in town, or we grilled. Ranchers weren’t short of meat, and Mom was good at the grill. The oven could go fuck itself in her opinion.
Emery shoved the buns into my hands and opened a drawer behind her. She lifted out a spoon, and I took that too. Grateful to have something to do while four kids tracked me through their house, I made it to the table.
Choosing a seat was familiar territory. I was aware of the pitfalls of choosing poorly. Growing up, my grandparents used to have me and my cousins over and we had fought over where we sat. But I sat next to Riley, and none of the kids objected. I’d chosen correctly.
Emery was right behind me with the Crock-Pot. She left the table again, and my heart rate kicked up. Avery opened the buns, took one, and flung the bag to Landon. He did the same to Afton. She was nicer when she handed it off to me. I took a bun and found Riley watching me expectantly.
Fuck, this was so far out of my norm. I stalled, not knowing what to do. I had some knowledge of the baby stage, but not older babies. Or was Riley a toddler?
“I’ve got her.” Emery dropped a bag of spinach and one of baby carrots on the table in front of the older kids and took over making a plate for Riley. She separated small chunks of shredded chicken and spooned cooked carrots out of a jar of baby food.
Afton ignored her food and stared at me. “Coach B, do you play football all day?”
“No, I have a cattle ranch.” All eyes were on me again, but I had Emery’s interest, and I was way too keen on that. “I work with my mom, actually. And we have a hired guy, Colt. We…ranch…”
Could it be any more obvious I had no clue what to do or say? Put me in a bar with a woman I’d never met or in the diner with old farmers, and I would talk about what I did all day, crop prices, how much I could get per head for cattle, and of course, the weather. Did kids care that the summer drought drove hay prices through the roof?
Afton grinned and wiggled on the bench. “Like with horses?”
I nodded. “And cows. Lots of cows.”
Avery’s high-pitched squeal would make a pack of dogs come running. “Can we ride the horses?”
Emery had the same expression as when Landon had asked me over for supper. “Avery, we don’t invite ourselves over.”
“Here’s the thing,” I said, knowing how to save us both. I had no idea how to handle four kids charging my horses, and I could be the bad guy instead. “My horses aren’t familiar with kids.”
