For maybe a minute she sat there with only Harper, who was busy making sure her hot dog was perfectly done, and then Tawny came out of the house with a full plate of food. “If you get tired of that guy, you can throw him into cabin number seven. He’s a sweetheart.”
“He’s got a daughter two years older than you, girl. He’s old enough to be your father,” Dana said.
“Maybe I’ve got a daddy complex.” Tawny bit into her hot dog and groaned.
Dana stole a chip from Tawny’s plate. “Not while I’m in your life. So how are you today, Harper? I was so swamped at the store that I didn’t have time to even take a lunch break.”
“Pretty good,” Harper answered. “Not over the moon ecstatic, but calmer than I’ve been in a very long time.”
“I’ve been wonderin’,” Dana said. “How often did y’all see each other since—well, you know?”
Tawny glanced at Harper. “Maybe half a dozen times. She came through town once, and we had lunch together. She insisted on paying for it, and I felt terrible when she dragged out change to finish out the bill. The rest of the times it was just a lunch or maybe a breakfast and I’d whip out my mother’s charge card before she could dig in her purse for money. I couldn’t imagine having to work for minimum wage like you did. At least not until I got booted out of Mama’s good graces and had to work. But when I had to work, I liked being independent.”
“You paid with our meals that day with Mama’s money? What happened when she found out?” Harper grinned.
“She raised hell when she checked the bill and found dinner for two at a cheap restaurant on a bad side of town. When I told her that I’d paid for your meal, she deducted that amount from my next month’s allowance. It was worth it,” Tawny said flatly.
Harper giggled. “It’s a wonder she didn’t stroke out.”
“I thought she might,” Tawny laughed with her.
Dana made a mental note to call her mother soon and tell her that she loved her. Maybe someday Retha would come around and realize that she was missing a relationship with her girls. But maybe she wouldn’t. Sometimes folks didn’t realize what they’d missed until it was too late.
And that’s your lesson to yourself tonight. Don’t let something fall through your fingers when you’ve got a good firm grip on it.
Payton squeezed between two chairs and handed her a plate of food. “Just the way you like it.”
“Yes, it is, and thank you so much.” She smiled up at him.
“I’m going back to get mine ready. Don’t let anyone steal my chair. Can I get you anything else?”
“I think I’ve got everything I need.” For the first time in years, she really felt that way, and this was only their second date.
Brook sat down on the other side of her and nudged her with an elbow. “Uncle Zed’s hands were shakin’ when he poured his glass of iced tea. Is he all right?”
“Probably just tired. It’s been a long day for him,” Dana said, hoping that she was right. She’d noticed that he coughed a lot more these days and that his overalls were getting even baggier than usual. He gripped the tea glass so tightly that his knuckles turned practically white. And when he took a bite of his hot dog, he used both hands to guide it to his mouth. Surely, God wouldn’t take him so soon after Granny Annie. That might be more than any of them could bear—especially Harper, who worked with him every day. She might be tall and tough-looking, but the last few days had proven just how fragile she was.
Payton returned and sat down on her right side. “How often do y’all do this?”
“First time they’ve used the fire pit,” Zed said. “Don’t expect it’ll be the last. Me and Annie, we liked to sit out here with a blazin’ fire goin’. We’d make up stories about where we were and what was goin’ on.”
“Tell us one,” Brook begged.
“Well, my favorite one is that we were travelin’ across country right after the Civil War and this was our fire when we unsaddled our horses that night and made camp in a place that looked like this. We could hear the coyotes howlin’ in the distance and the crickets and tree frogs singin’ to us,” he answered.
“That’s all?” Tawny asked.
“That’s all.” Zed nodded.
But something in the wistful look in his eyes told Dana that the rest of the story was very personal. She was about to suggest that they tell a story, but Payton beat her to it.
“Let’s start our own story. Zed, would you begin?” Payton said.
Zed nodded. “There’s seven of us in this covered wagon. We used to be eight, but the grandma died along the trail. Now we’ve circled our covered wagons with all the others. There’s twenty wagons all total. We’ve had our supper, and each family is sittin’ around their own campfire talkin’ about the gold mines where we’re headed. That’d be out in California. We left with a wagon train up in Missouri, so we’re somewhere in the middle of Nebraska tonight. Now it’s your turn, Brook.”
“I hate this wagon train. I don’t have air-conditioning or an indoor bathroom,” Brook giggled. “I sure wish I didn’t have to wear all these clothes.”
“How do you know about what they wore?” Tawny asked.
“I studied it in school. We even had to dress up in period clothes from back then,” she answered. “Before I got into the time machine, I was driving a brand-new Corvette and wearing skinny jeans. Now I’m eating beans and hoping that the bushes out there give me enough cover when I have to go. Now it’s your turn, Aunt Tawny.”
Dana smiled at her daughter’s quick wit about a time machine, but she read a lot of science fiction.
Tawny held up a finger while she ate the last bite of her hot dog. “Well, I was the one who talked you into getting into that time machine with me. I thought I dialed the number to throw us a couple of hundred years into the future, but I tend to get numbers turned around and I hit the wrong ones. Now here we are walkin’ ten miles a day beside a covered wagon or else riding in the back of the thing. I think my older sister Harper has a history with the wagon master, Wyatt. She keeps flirting with him, and now it’s her turn.”
Well done, little sister, Dana thought and made a mental note to buy Tawny’s first novel if she ever got around to writing it.
Harper took a drink of her sweet tea and smiled at Wyatt. “I’m not flirting. I’m trying to be nice to him so he’ll let our wagon be first in line. You know what they say—if you ain’t the lead dog, the scenery never changes. I’m tired of breathin’ everyone else’s dust and bein’ careful not to step in mule crap all day. But tonight I’m real happy that we’ve got clear skies and a big old pretty moon. I’m hoping that when we get to California, the pretty dress in my trunk still fits me, because I’m losing weight. Your turn, Wyatt.”
Good cover, Harper. Dana smiled.
Payton nudged Dana with his shoulder. “You’ve got a couple of pretty smart sisters.”
“Yep. I’m finding that out.” Dana nodded.
Wyatt’s deep drawl picked up the story. “I’m the wagon master, and I’ve had my eye on Harper since we left Missouri. She’s a tough woman and independent as they come—way out of my league. I’m just a common old wagon master, and she’d never look at me. Tonight I’m tickled that she’s invited me to the fire where she and the folks from her wagon have made supper. I get lonely riding my horse up ahead of the wagons and I’d like her to ride with me, but I’m afraid of rejection. Now it’s your turn, Payton.”