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“Empty,” Dallas said in sharp reproval. “It really isn’t any of your business.”

“Don’t you be shushing me,” Empty retorted, all indignant. “It’s the most natural thing for a son to take over the running of things when his daddy passes.”

“Since I work for the Triple C now, you could say I still do.” As far as Quint was concerned, making that claim was easier than explaining his mother’s ambition for him at the Triple C. Especially when he didn’t share it. But that was a private matter between his mother and himself.

“And you got paid to do it,” Empty realized, then remembered, “At least you did until you came down here.” He paused and turned a thoughtful eye on Quint. “I reckon your daddy taught you a thing or two about the law and handling ruffians like the Rutledges. You aren’t gonna be the kind to pack up when things get rough, are you?”

“No.” It was a simple statement, made without boast or hesitation.

Empty chuckled to himself. “It could get interesting around here for a fact.”

“Can we please talk about something other than the Rutledges?” Dallas protested in frustration. “It’s a subject that doesn’t exactly go with decorating a tree for Christmas.”

“Dallas is right,” Quint agreed.

Empty promptly lifted his hands in an exaggerated gesture of dismay. “Now why’d you have to go and say a thing like that? Now she’ll start believing she’s right about a whole bunch of other things, and there’ll be no living with her. She already thinks she knows it all as it is.”

“That’s because I take after you,” Dallas countered in sly mockery.

“See what I mean?” Empty declared. “There she goes mouthing off to me. Sometimes she just has no respect for her elders.”

“Pooh,” she scoffed. “Just because I don’t agree with you all the time, that doesn’t mean I don’t respect you.”

But the good-natured bickering succeeded in shifting the focus off the Rutledges, just as Dallas had wanted. Quint suspected he wasn’t the only one aware of it.

But the lighter tone took root. Soon it wasn’t something forced but came naturally—along with the smiles and the laughter.

By sundown, the tree was all decorated with a multitude of shiny ornaments, a white rope of popcorn, and brightly colored lights, all crowned by a silver star at the top. Leaving Dallas and her grandfather to stow the empty boxes in a bedroom closet, Quint headed outside to do the evening chores while there was still enough light to see. On his return, all three of them pitched in to fix a light supper.

After the dishes were done and they had drifted into the living room, the mood of friendly ease remained. As always Empty settled into his recliner and switched on the television. Quint stretched out on the couch. Dallas dug a magazine out of the wooden rack and curled up in the platform rocker.

Quint’s glance strayed from the Christmas tree to the fireplace’s dark maw. “A night like this seems to call for a crackling fire.”

“It’d look pretty,” Empty agreed. “But it’s too warm tonight.”

“If my cousin Laura were here, she’d turn on the air conditioner and then build a fire.” Quint smiled at the thought, knowing it was exactly what she would do.

Empty reared back his head and stared at Quint in disbelief. “That’s a blame fool thing to do.”

“Laura wouldn’t think so,” Quint replied.

“Why, it’s a plumb waste of money and fuel,” Empty stated.

“That’s the way you and I would look at it,” Quint agreed and clasped his hands behind his neck, letting his attention wander back to the television and the truck commercial being aired.

A harrumph came from the direction of the recliner. “It’s the only way to look at it.”

The platform rocker creaked noisily as Dallas laid the magazine aside and pushed herself out of it. Quint’s glance followed her as she crossed the room and disappeared into the back hall.

“That girl.” Empty sighed in mild annoyance. “She never has been any good at sitting and doing nothing. That’s not a bad thing, mind you, but sometimes I wish she’d park herself in one place and stay there.”

Scuffling sounds came from the vicinity of the hallway, but with the television on, it was impossible for Quint to discern the cause for them. A few minutes later, Dallas reappeared, her arms wrapped around a large cardboard box.

Empty frowned when he saw it. “What are you doing lugging that back out here? We just put all those boxes away.”

“I decided Quint was right. The fireplace needs something.” She set the box on the floor in front of it and pulled loose its overlapping top flaps.

“Need some help?” Quint started to sit up.

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