She reached out toward the second log, and froze mid-reach. “You don’t know?”
Wade lifted the lid from the fire pit and set it in the grass nearby. “I’m not great at keeping track of those things.”
Turning her attention back to the wood pile, Trish tried to understand how that was possible. Some men just weren’t good with dates—birthdays, anniversaries, and she guessed, due dates of their children. It was possible. Not that she had firsthand experience with which to compare. “Do you know what you’re having?”
“What who’s having?” Lina chimed in, closing the sliding glass door behind her.
“It’s a boy,” Wade chimed in. “Kate’s having a boy.”
“Oh, yes. Two weeks away, too! Or at least, that’s what the doctors predict. But no Holbrook has ever come when they’re supposed to. They have a habit of being early.” Lina dropped another stack of blankets on a chair. “Let’s hope Eli’s father will be here to meet him.”
Trish nearly fumbled the three chunks of wood she’d stacked in her arms. Why wouldn’t Wade be here for that? She wanted to ask about the comment, but outside of the question seeming far too personal, the sliding glass door to the kitchen slid open. Kate carried a tray filled with goodies—graham crackers, chocolate, and giant marshmallows—to the main table.
“You a s’mores fan?” Kate asked Trish once she’d dropped the logs next to the fire pit. She knew how to light a fire, but she doubted Wade was going to bestow her the privilege.
Backing away a few steps, Trish dropped onto a padded bench. “I love ’em! It’s fun to try them different ways. My favorite have strawberry and banana slices.”
Wade paused to peer at her over his shoulder in what must be disbelief. “Really?” He’d stopped lighting a folded piece of thin cardboard as if she’d just suggested they try the treat with mustard.
“It’s so good.” She refused to back down to the closeminded cowboy. “A neighbor of mine growing up taught me several different s’mores varieties, but my favorites always included fresh fruit.”
Kate eyed an empty chair but seemed to decide against sitting when her hand went to her lower back. “You know what? I saw some bananas and strawberries in the kitchen. I’ll go slice some up.”
Before Trish could tell her not to trouble with all that, Kate zipped inside—quite fast for a very pregnant woman—Lina close on her trail, explaining, “Need to gather up all the writers and find out where our other two cowboys ran off to.”
Wade made a noise, and not a pleasant one, once Lina slid the door closed behind her. “Is that what all you city girls like to do? Fancy up stuff when it’s not necessary?” Wade asked as the first trace of a flame licked the bottom of the biggest piece of wood. “I don’t understand why you would want to ruin a perfectly good,classic¸s’more.”
Trish took a deep breath. “I’m not a city girl.” She just happened to live in a city. They were completely different things. “Why don’t you knock itafteryou’ve tried it?”
“No way.” Wade stirred the glowing embers with a thin stick until the fire took hold and the threat of it dying faded. “I don’t fix what’s not broken.”
“You mean you don’t like trying new things.”
“I—”
Wade was cut off when Lina stepped back onto the patio, a gaggle of women behind her. “Everyone, please find a seat and get cozy. Blankets are over there.” Lina pointed to the toppling pile. “I thought an evening around a fire pit would be a great way to kick off our writing retreat week. Give you a feel for Wyoming in the fall.”
“I hope the leaves finish changing colors while we’re here,” Marti said as she wrapped a blanket around her legs and fell into a chair opposite the patio door. “I bet it’s just gorgeous when that happens.”
Trish hoped they’d be around long enough, too. Wyoming in the fall had to inspire quite the romance novel.
“Is that a bear?” One writer pointed to the fluffy mass sprawled in the grass. The stick she’d stolen was long gone, and now Shadow was rolling in the grass, all four paws in the air.
“That’s Wade’s dog, Shadow,” Lina said. “Don’t worry, she’s friendly.” Lina realigned the stack of napkins and plastic cups. “Our other two cowboys, also grandsons of mine, should be arriving any minute. They keep pretty busy on the ranch, but I’ve convinced them to join us for a couple of events, like our photoshoot tomorrow.”
“Don’t suppose they’re up for being personal chaperones, too?” Glenda asked with a hearty laugh that made it necessary to readjust her glasses.
Lina patted Wade on the shoulder. “I’m afraid that privilege is reserved for Wade.”
Trish suspected Wade had been strong-armed into thatprivilegeby the two women who ran the household. Why else would he agree? It was written all over his scowling face—lit by the glow of the fire—he didn’t like it one bit.
“Trish, you’re a lucky girl,” Lizzie hooted. “If you ever get tired of that cowboy, feel free to share!”
“Speaking of cowboys,” Kate said, after setting bowls of freshly sliced fruit near the s’mores platter and giving Trish a wink. “I better go round up Allen and Chet. I think I saw them pull up.”
“Do they both live with you, Kate and Wade?” Glenda asked Lina once Kate slipped back inside and Wade sauntered off toward the wood pile again. “Out here full-time?”
Trish thought the question was odd. Why would one live out here and not the other?
