Scooping a heap of eggs on my plate, she continued with Pop’s plate and Jeff’s. “How are the bookings this morning?”
“A little low, but we’re finally starting to get some traction.”
Sighing, she set her pan on the stove, grabbing the bacon. “It’s a shame we couldn’t keep the ranch running the way it was, but I think this really is the best option. Just don’t tell your father I said that.”
“Don’t tell me what?” Pop asked as he walked in and took his seat.
“She doesn’t want me to tell you that Lincoln Delaney was asking about her again.”
Pop grunted, shoving a piece of bacon in his mouth. “Not that it matters. Your momma only has eyes for me.”
“That’s exactly what I said,” Ma winked at me before walking away. “Coffee?”
“Please, Ma.”
“The truck broke down again,” Pop muttered, sitting back in his chair. “Either Wyatt Callahan is the stupidest mechanic I’ve ever met or that truck needs to be replaced.”
“Let’s not talk about Wyatt,” Ma interrupted, setting a cup of coffee next to my plate and one next to Pop’s.
“Maybe it’s not Wyatt,” I contemplated.
“Precisely.”
“But it wouldn’t surprise me if it was his brothers.”
Just when my mom thought we would drop the subject of the Callahans, it was brought up again. But when things started to go wrong on the ranch a few months back, it was hard to ignore the old feud flaring up again.
“Clay is too dumb to know how to damage the truck,” Pop retorted.
“Ben!” Ma gasped.
“He’s not the one we need to worry about. Austin has a mean streak a mile wide.”
“I hate this kind of talk,” Ma sighed, sitting down to her breakfast. “Honestly, if you would let me get together with Lenore, we could work this out in no time.”
“And how long would the rest of them let it go before they decided they were pissed at us?” I asked. “You bought their land and gave them a good price. They just won’t drop it.”
“I still think it could have been handled differently. It feels like we took advantage of the hard times they were facing.”
Pop slowly set down his mug, his face hardening at her words. “We didn’t take advantage of anything. They were down on their luck and I tried to help them.”
“Yes, but they were only down on their luck because of the accident?—”
“I don’t want to hear any more about that,” Pop said harshly.
“But, it was just as much?—”
“I said, we’re not talking about it!” Pop boomed, his fist slamming down on the table to end the conversation.
Silence filled the kitchen for a solid minute before the back door screen door opened and Jeff walked in.
“I just checked out the Millers,” he said, plopping his hat down on the table.
“Jeff, how many times do I need to tell you not to put your hat on the table?” Ma scolded.
He grabbed the hat and tossed it on the hook in the hallway before rejoining us at the table. “Ma, this smells delicious.”
As he dug in, the rest of us resumed our eating in silence, which Jeff noted almost immediately.
