“Yes,” Cash said, and Bryce lost the thread of that conversation as he moved from one group to another.
“Howdy, Kass,” he said, leaning over the back of the couch and pressing his cheek to hers. “Hey, Reg.”
“Hey, Bryce,” they said together, just before Harry’s whistle split the air and caused several people to groan.
“Cash says we’re almost ready,” he called. “There’s no assigned seating, so come find a place at the table.”
“I want to sit by my wife and son,” Bryce said, quickly claiming a spot on the corner where he could put Matt’s booster seat and still see everyone. “Do you still have those boosters, Cash?”
“They’re in the garage,” Kassie said, and Bryce caught Codi moving that way to get one. “I saw them out there when we got here.”
He went around, jostling between cousins and their significant others, to fill the ice glasses. Cash set a plate of butter on the table, while Lark added salt and pepper shakers, napkins, and several bottles of fruity apple cider.
He noted the way they spoke in an intimate way, as if they’d been together for a long time. Perhaps it was because she’d grown up in this house, and Cash currently lived here, but Bryce definitely sensed something between them.
Conversations continued, booster seats got set up, children got strapped in, and Bryce returned the ice bucket to the freezer.
“All right,” Cash yelled into the fray. “We’re going to do buffet style, since there’s not really room for the food on the table.”
Everyone turned toward him, and Bryce stopped at the end of the island opposite of Cash and Lark.
Cash shone in a way Bryce had not seen from his cousin, ever. He’d worried when Cash had moved back to Coral Canyon five months ago, during the height of rodeo season. He’d given very little explanations, and then he and Boston had bought a dilapidated ranch on the east side of town and planned to live there and run it together.
But now, Bryce hardly recognized Cash as the same cowboy who’d arrived in town just before the Fourth of July. He looked older, more settled, happier.
“I just want to say how grateful I am that you’re all here,” he said, and a lump got pushed down his throat as he swallowed. “Our sermon today was about making sure the people around us know how grateful we are, and turning our feelings of gratitude into actions.”
Cash paused and looked at Lark, who gave him a quiet smile and a slight nod. There was so something there, and Bryce wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stop himself from asking Cash about it.
“I don’t really know how to do that, but Lark thinks me making lunch for twenty people counts.”
“It’s the doughnuts that show how much he appreciates and loves you guys,” Lark said, a certain glow about her too. “I don’t know if you’ve ever seen someone make a doughnut, but it’s a metric ton of work.” She gazed up at Cash. “And I’m really grateful he did that for me today.”
She cleared her throat and looked out at everyone else. Bryce did too, and he found wide, surprised eyes on Harry and Adam, but knowing in Boston’s and Cora’s expressions. So some of them—maybe just Boston and Cora—knew about Cash and Lark, while everyone else was just finding out.
“For all of us,” Lark said. “He had to set an alarm to get up this morning to get the dough made before church, and he’s been working for hours.”
“The pastor did say that it takes sacrifice to turn your gratitude into an action,” Cash said. “And I guess I did sacrifice some sleep.” He chuckled and looked down at the food. “But the doughnuts are for later. Right now, we have sweet and sour meatballs, mashed potatoes, and roasted veggies. If something is too salty or you don’t like it, don’t eat it.”
He looked up and grinned at everyone, that throat working again. Surprise moved through Bryce, because he’d not seen Cash emotional like this before. His cousin looked over to him, pure pleading in those dark, deep, somewhat dangerous eyes.
Bryce took a step toward him just as Cash turned away. Lark turned with him, putting one hand on his back, and Bryce faced the rest of the family. “Cash asked me to pray,” he said, though no such thing had been done.
He swept his cowboy hat off his head and pressed it over his heart while he waited for the other men to do the same. Cash came to his side and linked his arm through Bryce’s, and he looked at him for a long moment before he bowed his head.
“Lord,” he said, and his own emotions shook and vibrated and balled up in his throat. He’d always been a sympathetic crier, and seeing his tall, tough, bull-riding cousin get emotional had just dislodged something inside Bryce he didn’t know what to do with.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
Lark moved to Cash’s side when Bryce didn’t go on. She glanced over to him and found his eyes squished shut. Her pulse beat at her, and she looked to the main group still seated at the table. A couple of them—Harry and Boston—watched Bryce like a hawk searching for his next meal.
She cleared her throat. “Dear Lord,” she said. “We’re grateful to be gathered here in this beautiful home, where we have shelter from the wind and weather outside. We’re grateful for those who had to travel to be with us, and bless them they’ll be able to return to their homes safely when the time comes.”
She took a breath, feeling more grounded than she had in months. Perhaps it was because she stood in a place—a home—where she’d often felt the spirit and had prayed many, many times, over many, many meals.
“We’re grateful for Thy bounty in our lives, and acknowledge Thy hand in all things. We’re grateful for the skills of Cash, as he put this meal together for us, and I’m pretty sure I can speak for everyone when I say I kind of want to eat dessert first, so I’m not too full later.” She forced a giggle out of her mouth, glad when at least one or two others laughed too.
