Delaney waved her away. “Consider it forgotten. We all have shit to deal with. No one can throw stones here.”
Kara giggled.
“Come on, Kara. We’ll set the table together. Maybe if we help Delaney out, she’ll give us a bigger serving of her apple crumb cake I saw earlier,” Mac said, winking at her.
“Oh, yum,” Kara said, following him.
“Rachel’s in the kitchen. I taught her how to make fried chicken about a month ago. I’ll warn you, she’s not a great cookand it’ll be mostly raw or burnt. She’s trying and that’s what’s important. Don’t worry, I made enough sides to make up for it. Go say your peace while I pee for the hundredth time,” Delaney said, rubbing her stomach.
Rebecca headed toward the kitchen, rehearsing what she planned to say. As she entered, she heard Rachel curse, “Son of a bitch. Who the hell thought frying chicken sounded like a great idea? This grease hurts like hell.”
“Lower the temperature,” Rebecca instructed. “I came to apologize.”
“For my cooking?” Rachel snarked. “Too late, I think Delaney’s giving up on me. I’ve only mastered pie crusts, beans, and cornbread.”
“It’s a skill,” Rebecca said, moving closer to the stove. “Speaking of which, I brought Kara with me. She’s applying the makeup you gave her extremely heavy for someone her age.”
“Oh, you came to blame me for that, too,” Rachel muttered as she turned the heat down.
“No. I’m sorry for how I acted when we last saw each other. You’ve done a great job with the cabins and Kara loves her blanket. Anyone can see how much you’ve changed, and I didn’t give you a chance,” Rebecca admitted apologetically.
Rachel smiled. “I totally earned my reputation, but I appreciate the gesture.”
“Can you show us how to apply it correctly? I don’t use a ton of it and Kara needs to tone it down,” Rebecca asked her while she picked up the fork and indicated Rachel needed to flip the chicken.
“Shit, that hurts,” Rachel said as grease splattered on her hand. “No one says cooking is dangerous. They only tell you how much fun it is.”
Rebecca grinned, finding her entertaining. “I’m supposed to take drinks out. Will Julio and Matthew be joining us?”
Rachel turned to gaze at her. “No. They’re gone. They spun up at the crack of dawn this morning.”
“Where did they go?” Rebecca’s heart thudded heavily in her chest.
“I don’t know. Matthew doesn’t tell me much about the business side of things. I did, however, overhear them say something about Georgia.”
The pitcher Rebecca held fell out of her hands, crashing to the floor. “Where?” she asked again, to make sure she heard it correctly.
“They flew to Georgia,” Rachel reiterated, dropping towels onto the floor to soak up the liquid. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s where they found us. Why did they go back there?” she uttered, feeling confused. Worry filled her as she thought about Julio returning to the trafficking ring’s site. What if they ran into scouts?
“Sit down before you fall over,” Rachel ordered, steering her toward a wooden chair. “I’ll clean this up.”
Delaney entered, noticed Rebecca’s pale face, and rushed to wet a cloth, then pressed it against her forehead. “Land sakes, Rachel. She came to apologize. You didn’t have to be a bitch this fast.”
Rachel chuckled. “See? Even Delaney thinks I’m bitchy and she never experienced Rachel Foster, Serenity style. I swear I didn’t do anything this time. She asked me about Julio and Matthew, then dropped a pitcher.”
“Check the chicken, it’s burning,” Delaney reminded her, appearing bored.
“Awww, crap,” Rachel said, rushing toward the smoking skillet.
“Did they say when they planned to return?” Rebecca asked shakily. “Dang it, I left my phone at the cabin. May I borrow one of yours to call Kassie Winters? Maybe she’ll know something.”
“You can use mine, but you’ll be wasting your time. Matthew put a stop to her micromanaging this place. She bankrolls the payroll and owns the land, but we do everything independently,” Rachel explained.
“Can you call Matthew?” Rebecca asked, almost pleading.
Delaney giggled. “Nope. She’s not allowed to call him when he’s on a job after the last time.”
