Page 50 of The Wedding Gift
“No.” She shook her head. “I gave it my best for ten years, and it didn’t work. It’s time to leave that dream behind and move on.”
“To what?” he asked.
“Right now, making wine. I’m enjoying the work, andI’ve even entertained notions of putting in a vineyard of my own,” she answered.
“There’s lots of good sandy land to do that around here,” he suggested.
“Hey, are you two about starved?” Greta yelled as she started down the stairs.
In a few long strides, Dalton was beside her and had looped her arm in his. “Here, Miz Greta, let me help you, and yes, I’m starving. I didn’t have time to eat breakfast, so I might be just about to embarrass Becca.”
“I love a man with a good appetite.” Greta smiled up at him.
“That’s great, because Ilovegood home cookin’,” he told her.
When Greta was settled and her seat belt fastened, Dalton went to his truck and followed them to the house. After he’d first met her at the watermelon farm, he’d driven around town until he spotted Becca’s little dark-blue car with its Tennessee license plate. That was another thing he’d never admit because it made him sound like a stalker.
Greta was out of the car and headed toward the porch by the time he got parked. He saw her lips moving, but he couldn’t tell what she was saying. From Becca’s expression and the way she rolled those big beautiful green eyes, it was something that she didn’t really agree with.
“Hey,” Becca waved. “I’m supposed to tell you that it’s toohot for Tuff to spend the afternoon in the back of the truck, and you’re supposed to bring him inside. I hope he’s housebroken.”
“Of course he is, and he appreciates the offer.” Dalton gave a shrill whistle, and Tuff bounded out of the back of the truck. Tail wagging and head held up, he marched right up on the porch and lay down in the shade. “He says that if he could have a bowl of water, he’d be right comfortable out here.”
“I believe we can manage that,” Becca said. “Come on in.”
The redbrick house had a wide-enough front porch to support a swing at one end. A white chaise lounge with bright-green pillows sat on the other end. A gentle summer breeze spread the scent of the red roses that grew across the front of the place.
Dalton followed Becca inside, removed his hat, and hung it on a hall tree right inside the door. “Nice place,” he said.
“We like it just fine. Daddy wanted Grammie to buy property down in Ringgold, but she checked the property taxes, and they were cheaper in Oklahoma.” Becca kicked her high heels off and slid them up under a ladder-back chair. “It’s only a five-minute drive down to Daddy’s ranch, so it’s not that big a deal unless it floods and they close the river bridge.”
“Becca, darlin’ girl, you can come on in here and make the salad,” Greta called out.
“I’m glad to help out.” Dalton followed her into the kitchen.
“Where’s Tuff?” Greta asked.
“He opted to protect the house from the front porch,” Dalton answered as he rolled up his sleeves.
“Good dog, that one,” Greta said. “Never know when we might get one of them salesmen or Bible-thumpin’ folks knockin’ on the door. Tuff has my permission to bite either of them on the arse.”
“If you will point me in the right direction, I’ll set the table.” Dalton rolled up his sleeves. “Been pettin’ Tuff, so I’ll need to wash up. All right if I do that in the sink?”
“Sure thing,” Greta said. “My Seamus always got cleaned up in the kitchen sink. Brings back good memories.”
Dalton washed his hands all the way to the elbows and then turned to look for a towel. Becca was standing right behind him, towel in hand. He took it from her and started drying the water from his arms.
“My turn.” She hip butted him to one side. “Can’t be tearin’ up the lettuce with the smell of dog on me either. Plates are right there. We’ll need salad bowls too, and you might as well get dessert dishes down. Grammie made a pecan pie for dessert.”
“I’ve died and gone to heaven,” Dalton groaned. “Pecan pie is my favorite, right next to apple, cherry, and peach cobbler, and banana cream.”
“In other words, you like pie?” Becca finished washing her hands.
Dalton gave her the towel and took down the plates. Thank God Nana had raised him by the goose and gander law. She always said what was good for the goose was good for the gander, and insisted he learn a little about cooking and keeping house as well as how to work cattle and build a barn. “I love pie of any kind, cake of any kind, and ice cream and homemade fudge, and I could go on and on. I have a sweet tooth that is never satisfied.”
Becca giggled. “That sounds like a pickup line.”
Greta laughed with her. “And the next thing you should say is, ‘And you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen,’ right?”