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“It smells good.” He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on a hook by the door, then slipped his hat onto the shelf above it.
“Spaghetti and meat sauce. It was the fastest thing to make,” she explained in an offhand way.
“Fast is good. I think we’re all hungry tonight.” He went to the sink to wash up, conscious that she never paused in her task. “Are you finding where everything goes all right?”
“Right now I’m just putting things wherever there’s room. I can organize it later.” She shoved a sack of sugar onto a shelf and pushed a container of cornmeal beside it. “I think Empty’s snoozing in his chair. When you get through, would you go wake him up and tell him it’s time to eat??
?
“Sure.” But Quint couldn’t shake the feeling she was subtly pushing him away.
It persisted throughout the evening meal. Dallas was never cold or rude, but the studied indifference in her voice and attitude had its own way of holding him at arm’s length. Justified or not, it annoyed Quint.
His plate slicked clean, Empty Garner leaned back in his chair and patted his full stomach. “That was a tasty meal, Dallas. You done good.”
“Thanks.” Rising, she reached for his plate. “Want some coffee?”
“Naw. My chair’s calling me. I think I’ll go in and watch some television,” he replied and laid both hands on the tabletop to push himself upright.
As he hobbled toward the living room, Dallas glanced briefly at Quint. “How about you? Coffee?”
“No, thanks.” Quint gathered up his own plate and silverware and carried them to the sink where he tightened the drain plug and turned on the hot water.
As he squeezed some dish soap into the water, Dallas arrived with the rest of the dirty dishes from the table. “Go watch TV with Empty. I can do these.”
“So can I.” Quint turned on the other faucet, adding cold water to the mix of steaming, billowing bubbles.
For an instant Dallas seemed on the verge of arguing the point, then shrugged. “Have it your way.” She slid the dishes into the soapy water and went back to clear the rest of the items from the table.
By the time she finished, Quint was rinsing the silverware and adding them to the drain rack that already held the glasses and plates. Without a word, Dallas took a clean dish towel from the drawer and started drying the glasses.
“You aren’t very comfortable with this arrangement, are you?” Quint remarked.
“Don’t be silly. I don’t care if you wash dishes,” Dallas countered.
“That isn’t what I meant. I was talking about you and your grandfather moving out here.”
This time Dallas wasn’t as quick with an answer. When she did offer one, Quint sensed again that she had chosen her words with care.
“It’s the safest place right now.”
“That isn’t what I asked,” he countered in a firm but gentle voice.
There was the smallest flare of defiance in the look she gave him. “With Rutledge’s threats hanging over us, I wouldn’t be comfortable anywhere.”
“And maybe even less living under the same roof with me?” Quint suggested.
“It’s nothing personal,” Dallas insisted. “I just don’t want you to get the idea that I’m interested in becoming romantically involved. That’s all.”
“I had a feeling you were concerned about that,” Quint admitted. “But you can set your mind at ease on that score. I’m not going to force myself on you, and I apologize if my behavior earlier today gave you the wrong impression.”
“Apology accepted.” Yet she appeared far from reassured by it. If anything her tension had increased.
“Dallas—” he began.
She cut in quickly. “Let’s just drop it, okay?” Her eyes were cool with challenge, a look that was more in keeping with the woman he remembered from past encounters.
“If that’s the way you want it, then as far as I’m concerned, it never happened.”
