Page 13 of A Rancher's Heart
They were sheer fun. Bright yellow frames with a row of miniature blue birds perched along the top.
Emma pulled her hand back but she was smiling a little.
“You have more than one pair of glasses?” Sasha sounded amazed. “Auntie Ginny wears glasses, but she only has one pair. Oh, and sometimes she has sunglasses, and sometimes she doesn’t wear them at all.”
“I have to wear my glasses,” Tamara told her seriously. “Otherwise everything is just a big blur.”
“Emma and I don’t need to wear glasses—”
“How about we get everybody seated,” Caleb interrupted. “That way we can see food on our plates a little quicker.”
Instead of the typical rectangular farm-style table, the dining area of the open floor plan held an enormous circular one laid with cutlery and glasses. Enough seats for a dozen people were arranged around it, the wooden chairs mismatched yet sturdy, and the result was surprisingly homey.
After a bit of shuffling, Tamara found herself seated in the chair Dustin had abandoned, only half of the big table being utilized. Caleb sat three spots down on the other side of Emma, and Tamara watched with interest as he set to scooping pasta, sauce and salad on the plates stacked in front of him.
As he finished the first plate he passed it to Emma, who carefully passed it to Sasha.
When Sasha laid the plate in front of herself and picked up her fork Caleb coughed sternly. “You have someone sitting beside you tonight,” he reminded her.
It was on the tip of Tamara’s tongue to pipe up that she didn’t mind waiting, but this was his house and she wanted to know what she was getting into. How did they do things in the Stone family, and was she going to fit in…
No. If she was honestthatwasn’t the question. The question was—would she approve?
She accepted the plate from Sasha. “Thank you. It looks good.”
“That’s Auntie Ginny’s chair.” A sullen, childish reprimand.
“Sasha.” A warning sounded in Caleb’s tone. “Auntie Ginny’s in France. I don’t think we need to leave the chair empty for her. Be nice.”
Sasha looked back at her plate, but she was quiet for only seconds before turning back to Tamara speaking politely, but pointedly.
“It will be a good supper because Uncle Luke makes thebestgarlic bread. Daddy makes thebestspaghetti sauce. Uncle Walker makes thebestsalad. Uncle Dusty…” She glanced across the table at where Dustin was waiting patiently for his plate to arrive. “Uncle Dusty…”
“Uncle Dusty is the best supper-eater ever,” Luke drawled, catching hold of Dustin’s elbow as it jerked toward him.
Dustin grinned at his niece. “How about Uncle Dustin serves up the best bowls of ice cream for dessert?”
Sasha looked up at Tamara with a bit of attitude. “Doyouknow how to cook?”
“I can make toast,” Tamara said.
The little girl’s eyes widened. “Is that all?”
“Maybe a few more things. But toast is my specialty.”
Sasha looked back at her plate. So quietly there was no way Caleb could hear she muttered, “We’re going to starve.”
Tamara fought to keep from laughing.
Caleb was efficient as he served dinner, and they all had full plates in quick order. No one touched their food, though, until Caleb put the serving spoon down, the final plate resting in front of himself.
Tamara waited in case the Stones had some other family tradition. But the instant Caleb picked up his fork, it was obvious that was the ready-to-go signal.
Tamara had no objection. Between the drive and the unexpected dip in cold water, she was hungry enough to do justice to the steaming hot food.
“Any idea how long you’ll be sticking around?” Dustin asked Walker.
“Until the new year. I need a bit of a break, so I may as well spend my time with you.”
