Page 17 of The Marrying Kind
“Just hanging out with your family while we waited for you to arrive.” My filter might have been a little affected by the oversize glass of wine Natalie had poured me.
“Can we eat now?” Noah asked, picking up the controller and following Dottie across the finish line to secure second place.
Everyone stood in unison and headed to the dining room table.
Natalie carried over a huge baking dish from the oven and pulled the lid away. The yummy scent of pulled pork smacked my nostrils just before Dottie pulled the tin foil off a platter of corn tortillas that looked homemade.
“We have pineapple salsa, peach salsa, or blueberry barbecue sauce.” Austen pointed to the three bowls around the table as everyone loaded up their plates.
“All homemade, of course,” Dottie said proudly.
“I’ll have to try all of them then.” I smiled at the idea, feeling confident I could easily down three tacos.
“A woman with a healthy appetite, good girl,” Dottie said, praising me.
Her words shouldn’t have meant much to me, but the way this family seemed to take me right into their fold, like I was one of their own, was a good feeling.
I’d missed this more than I wanted to admit. Dinner around the table with a family. My mom might have not made meals from scratch, but we’d still gather every night and eat together. If I weren’t so busy having my taste buds explode at the magic that is blueberry barbecue sauce, I might have teared up.
After dinner, Natalie suggested Austen show me the chickens.
He gave her a knowing look. “You didn’t—”
“Tell me about Pinky? Oh, she did,” I said with a chuckle.
He shook his head, his ears going a little pink.
“I thought it was adorable, for the record,” I said with a grin.
Even though I’d eaten three pork tacos, they hadn’t soaked up enough of the wine to allow my filter to resume operation. Austen gave a littletold you solook to his brother that I clocked.
Then Austen turned back to me. “Well, we can see them, but I have an idea to pitch to you. It may not be on your list, but I think you’ll like it.”
“Do I get to know what it is?” I asked, planting my hands on my hips.
He grabbed my hand and tugged me to the door. “Nope, but I’ll show you outside, and then you can decide.”
• • •
Natalie had loaned me a pair of real-deal winter boots and a parka that easily surpassed my lame attempt at winter gear. I was thankful for them because it was freezing out now that the sun had set. Austen led me along as we tromped toward a shed.
“This isn’t the part where you lock me in a secret dungeon, right?” I teased.
“Of course not. We keep zombies in the barn, not people.” He grinned over his shoulder at me as he pulled open the door. “This is our snowmobile shed.”
Inside was a machine I’d only seen a time or two on television. There was certainly no need for such a thing in the New Mexico desert.
My face twisted up. “Is it safe?” I asked, inspecting the vehicle as if I’d be able to figure it out.
“Of course it is. If you know what you’re doing.”
He reached down and cut on the engine, and it roared to life.
It was louder than I’d expected, and I plugged my ears as he swung a leg over the wide seat and backed it out of the small space. He stood up again and grabbed the backpack he’d been carrying, which looked to be about stuffed full.
He leaned close to my ear then, to make sure I could hear him over the roar of the engine. “Do you have a bathing suit we can stop and grab?”
“A bathing suit?” I asked in a shocked tone. “Is that part of snowmobiling?”
