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Seven
The morning after Farris returned from New York, India lost her courage. Instead of going straight to breakfast, she made a detour to Dottie’s room. The older woman was just exiting with a definite bounce in her step.
“Farris is home,” Dottie exclaimed. “Did you hear him come in during the wee hours? I hope he didn’t disturb you.”
India managed not to blush, though she felt as if her wild night was written on her face. “I’m a pretty heavy sleeper. Didn’t hear a thing.”
Fortunately, Dottie chattered all the way down the hall and into the dining room. When Dottie saw Farris, she flung her arms around her son as if he had been away at war and not out of town for a business trip.
“I’ve missed you,” she said, hugging him tightly.
Farris hugged his mother in return. Over Dottie’s head, the other two adults exchanged a glance. India gave him a bland smile. Farris seared her with his sapphire laser eyes. She had to catch her breath and break the connection, or she would have dissolved in a puddle.
When they were finally seated, and the housekeeper brought in quiche lorraine and fresh grapefruit, Dottie kept the meal from being uncomfortable. She asked Farris a million questions about his trip.
“Did you go to my apartment?” she asked. “Did you bring my bag? Was everything okay?”
He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I did, and I did, and everything was fine.”
Dottie beamed. “Oh, good.” She turned to India. “I have a woman who comes in twice a week to water my plants.”
India raised an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of plant watering. Couldn’t you have bought more plants whenever you go back to New York?”
“Oh, no.” Dottie shook her head firmly. “I’ve had a few of those flowers and herbs as long as I’ve had Farris.”
“Mother is right,” he said. “We’ve moved those pots a dozen times or more. I always knew we were home when she decided where the plants would go.”
“That’s sweet.” India mulled that story over as they ate. Sometimes she forgot that Dottie and Farris had been so traumatized in the earlier years. For all her frail appearance now, Dottie Quinn was a strong woman. She had picked herself up and cared for her young son with no support at all. Yet she never spoke bitterly, at least not in India’s hearing.
Farris didn’t speak of his father at all, but clearly, he had been deeply affected by what had happened when he was a child. Those scars had been internalized. He had driven himself to be perfect. Successful. Impervious to rejection.
Dottie continued to carry the conversation. “India’s boxes came,” she told Farris. “Three huge ones.”
“Boxes?” Farris directed the question to India.
“When I first flew out here to Wyoming, I didn’t know how long I would be staying, so I only brought the basics. Once I realized that I would be with Dottie for several months, I asked a friend of mine to go to my apartment and pack up the rest of my winter clothes. I’ll owe her one for this.”
Dottie finished her meal and gave both of her companions a smile. “I have an idea. Farris, will you help India and me with the photo albums for an hour or two? You won’t believe how much fun it is.”
He reached out and patted her hand. “I’d love to, but I’ve been gone a week, and ranch chores are piling up.”
Dottie’s face fell. “I understand.”
India hated to see the disappointment on the older woman’s face. “Dottie,” she said, “why don’t we meet in the great room in half an hour? I need to speak to Farris privately for a few minutes.”
Dottie stood, her uncertain gaze going from India to Farris and back. “Of course, my dear.”
When India and Farris were alone in the room, India lowered her voice. “Don’t you think you should be spending more time with your mother? If my being in the room makes it uncomfortable for you, I can invent a reason not to help today.”
As she spoke, Farris’s jaw jutted, and his eyes flashed. “I don’t need you to lecture me on my responsibilities to my mother,” he said tersely. “Dottie understands my workload. Besides, that’s why I have you...so she won’t feel lonely.”
“I’m not a substitute for her dearest child.”
He rounded the table and stopped when they were toe to toe. He had a good five inches on her, so she was forced to tilt her head back to give him the evil eye.
He lowered his voice, the words barely audible. “Do you really want to argue about this, or is there something else on your mind?”
She sucked in a breath. “No. Nothing.”
