“Can we get a puppy?” Katie asks me with a kind of gleam in her eyes that I’ve never seen before.
I lift her off the counter, her small body clings to mine. “What’s this talk of a puppy?”
Queenie laughs. “It was just idle conversation, nothing more. Katie and I were just thinking out loud how wonderful it would be to have a new puppy underfoot. One of Husk’s dogs had a litter three months ago, and they’re ready for rehoming.”
Looking down at my daughter, I say, “Puppies are a lot of work. We’ll have to talk about that later.”
Queenie sets the ice cream bowl in the sink and gives me a grin. “Miss Katie’s got a spark. She reminds me of my boys when they were little. They were always into something. I couldn’t turn my back on them for even a minute.”
“Now, Ma,” Slate grumbles. “We weren’t that bad.”
“You were—and Miss Katie is taking after you all.”
“That’s what worries me,” I mutter under my breath. Katie is coming out of her shell faster than I ever thought possible. There’s something else that’s worrying me too. The longer that I’m here with my daughter, the sooner someone is going to notice things.
Across the room, Tessa stands beside the stove, guiding two club girls through a pasta recipe. She’s calm, cool, and collected. “Smaller pieces, Tina,” she says without raising her voice.
The younger woman nods, correcting her dicing immediately.
Rock sits at the end of the long food prep table, sipping coffee as he takes it all in. His beard is mostly gray, but his eyes are clear and sharp beneath those heavy brows. Slate has the same eyes, I realize. As does Katie.
I glance over at Queenie, she’s a smart woman. It wouldn’t take a genius to notice the similarity between my daughter’s eyes and her son’s.
When Rock notices me, he lifts his chin in a subtle greeting. “Are you settling in okay?”
“Yes,” I say. “Thanks again for having me and my daughter.”
His gaze drifts over to Katie before lifting to mine again. “You’re part of the pack now, you and your little girl. We take care of our own.”
Queenie adds, “She’s a smart kid, too. We need to keep that curious mind of hers busy. Idle minds find trouble.” Lifting her chin, she looks all kinds of confident. “Ask me how I know.”
“Slate told me you had four sons. That makes you a better woman than me. I don’t think I could go through another pregnancy.”
Queenie shoots back, “Oh, you’ll get over that soon enough. More is always better when it comes to little ones.”
Tessa glances over her shoulder, with one hand on her pregnant belly. “Ignore them, Christina. They’d turn both of us into baby factories if they could.”
I can’t help but laugh, because I suspect her words are very true.
Rock sips his coffee, unbothered. “‘Course we would. We only had kids to get the grandkids.”
I can tell by the tone of his voice that he’s only kidding.
Slate leans his shoulder against the doorframe and just watches us interact. He eventually asks, “You gettin’ hungry?”
“I think so,” I say. “Everything smells delicious.”
Rock seems really pleased with my answer. “Queenie spent years perfecting her pasta sauce recipe,” he says proudly. “And Tessa learned it in one night. Now, we never have to deal with second best,” he says with a straight face.
Queenie throws him a look. “Nobody likes a braggart, Rock.”
“I’m not a braggart,” he says indignantly. “I’m more of a truth teller.”
She just grins at him, secretly pleased by his behavior. “You boys never did learn subtle.”
The exchange draws quiet laughter from the women at the counter. There’s something so easy in the way that everyone comes together here. A mix of blood and found family. I can’t imagine how wonderful it would be to really belong here with these salt-of-the-earth type people. We’ve only just met, but I’m already growing to respect them.
Tessa calls out, “Dinner is in an hour, so nobody wander off. It’s a special occasion, and I want all hands on deck.”
