Beneath the Mistletoe. Susan Crosby

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СКАЧАТЬ to suggest a personal reason for lingering, and she heard no particular expression in Banner’s voice. She shouldn’t feel as if there was some significance to their agreement that she would be the last to leave. So why did she feel that way?

      She glanced at her watch to distract herself from that line of thought. “It’s almost five. I suppose we should be thinking of something to feed everyone.”

      “I put a lasagna in the oven. It will be ready to serve by six.”

      Lucy looked at Banner in surprise. She hadn’t even realized he’d been in the kitchen prior to joining her in the living room. She knew he hadn’t been in there long enough to assemble lasagna. “How—”

      “It was in the freezer. I make two at a time when I’m in the mood to cook, and I freeze one for later. It should be enough to feed everyone, along with a couple of side dishes. I usually eat leftovers for two or three days.”

      “You’re a very resourceful man, aren’t you?”

      He gave a quiet chuckle. “I try to be.”

      Oh, gosh, she was starting to like him, entirely too much. The darned man seemed to be weaseling his way onto her prospect list—even though he absolutely did not belong there. And certainly wouldn’t want to be there, she added glumly.

      Candles provided light for the lasagna dinner Banner had prepared. Having grown more comfortable with each other as the day passed, the travelers laughed and bantered during the meal. A newcomer might have thought they had known each other for ages, Lucy thought with a smile.

      Though Banner didn’t contribute much to the conversation, he seemed to enjoy listening. Lucy was getting the distinct impression that he wasn’t quite the crusty recluse he pretended to be. She suspected that there was more to his story than a history of being the family misfit. What was he really hiding from here in his rural lair? And, yes, she was being nosy again, but it was Banner’s fault for being so mysterious, she reasoned.

      Before the meal was over, something else claimed her attention, something that was no more her business than Banner’s secrets. But she couldn’t help noticing that Bobby Ray was spending a lot of time watching Joan across the table. His expression made Lucy wonder if the big trucker had become attracted to Joan.

      It was an interesting possibility. Lucy wondered if Joan was aware of it, and if so, how she felt about it. Something told her that Joan didn’t have a clue. As far as Lucy could tell, Joan had absolutely no vanity. And since she had admitted to Lucy that she was a bit intimidated by Bobby Ray, Joan probably never considered that he might be interested in her.

      Lucy didn’t consider herself the meddlesome type. But there was no reason they shouldn’t all get to know each other better, was there? Wasn’t that what casual conversation was all about?

      “You haven’t told us much about yourself, Bobby Ray,” she began, stabbing her fork into a bite of lasagna. “Are you originally from Little Rock?”

      “I grew up in Prescott,” the trucker replied obligingly. “Moved to Little Rock about fifteen years ago to be closer to my wife’s family.”

      Oops.

      “Your wife?” Lucy repeated.

      He nodded. “Andrea. She died five years ago of melanoma. She had just turned thirty-two.”

      “I’m so sorry,” Lucy said, and the sentiment was echoed in the faces of their dining companions.

      “You would have liked her,” Bobby Ray assured Lucy. “She was a pistol. You remind me of her, in a way.”

      “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said with a smile.

      “It was meant as one.”

      Lucy noticed that Joan was looking down at her plate now, though Lucy would bet Joan was paying close attention to the conversation. “You and Andrea didn’t have any children?”

      Bobby Ray shook his head, his eyes dimming a bit. “We were never blessed with any. We both loved kids and would’ve liked a houseful if we could’ve had ’em.”

      “Children are a blessing,” Pop agreed. “Mother and I raised four of our own and more than a few that we took in along the way. I’m not saying we never had our troubles with any of them, but the good times made up for the bad ones, didn’t they, Mother?”

      “Oh, yes, they did,” she concurred. “Hardest part was when we lost our oldest boy in a car accident twenty years ago. We learned then to cherish the moments we have with our loved ones and to never take each other for granted.”

      “That’s the way I’ve always felt,” Lucy said. “Probably because I lost my mother when I was young, I’ve always treasured my other family members. Even when my cousins made me so mad I could punch them—and I tried once or twice,” she added with a laugh.

      Tricia wanted to contribute to the discussion. “My brother makes me mad sometimes. He calls me dopey-head, and he hides my dolls.”

      “Well, you broke my model airplane,” Tyler retorted heatedly, always game for a squabble. “And you are a dopey-head.”

      “Am not!”

      “Are, too.”

      Joan cleared her throat, and both children fell into silence, turning their attention quickly back to their dinners.

      Bobby Ray laughed. “That’s the same sort of sound my own mama used to make when I was acting up. She didn’t have to say a word, just gave my brother and me a look, and we knew we were in for it. That little bitty woman could sure swing a mean hickory switch.”

      Tricia’s eyes rounded. “What’s a hickory switch?”

      “A little bit of history, missy,” Bobby Ray answered with a chuckle. “It’s been replaced with other methods now, but it surely was effective in its time.”

      Pop grinned. “I can testify to that. My grandma was the switch swinger in my family, and we learned right quick not to get on her bad side.”

      “My teacher gives us frowny-face stickers if we’re bad,” Tricia said, still eager for attention. “Three frowny faces means we can’t go out to recess. I’ve only had one frowny face all year,” she bragged, “and that was because Kevin Perkins pinched me and made me yell at him when we were supposed to be listening to a story.”

      Lucy couldn’t help smiling at the little girl’s disgruntled expression. “Kevin Perkins sounds like a brat.”

      “He’s okay,” Tricia said. “I told him to be nice to me and he could be one of my boyfriends, so now he doesn’t pinch me anymore.”

      That made the adults laugh, except for Joan, who groaned and shook her head.

      “Looks like you’re going to have your hands full with this one,” Bobby Ray told Joan sympathetically. “Going to have to beat the boys away with a stick.”

      “Maybe I should find a hickory switch, after all,” Joan agreed.

      When Joan and Bobby Ray shared a smile, Lucy silently congratulated herself СКАЧАТЬ