“I think mine isfrowning,” her grandfather said in mock horror.
Dove really cracked up at that, throwing her head back and clutching her little belly.
Dalton couldn’t help noticing how confident she was that he was only teasing. The little girl didn’t even check her grandfather’s face. She just laughed her head off and then helped herself to a big scoop of fruit salad.
He frowned and applied himself to piling his own plate high.
“Everything okay?” Ella asked him.
He glanced up and found her beautiful brown eyes were slightly narrowed, almost like she sensed there was something wrong with him.
It’s not my fault…
“Everything is great,” he told her. “I was just hoping we didn’t make too much.”
“No such thing,” Mary said. “We work hard and we’re big eaters, aren’t we, Ella?”
Ella nodded to her mother and put a little syrup on her pancake.
The meal passed quickly after that. Many compliments were paid to the chefs and Dalton was charmed at how much trouble they all took to make sure Dove knew her efforts were appreciated.
“We’re going to start harvesting the north field today,” Mary said at last, sitting back in her seat.
“Just point me at whatever you want done,” Dalton said immediately, placing his napkin on his plate. “I’ll wash up these dishes and come with you.”
“I’ll handle the dishes, son,” Michael told him with a fond smile. “You’ve done enough already.”
“Thank you, sir,” Dalton told him, getting to his feet.
“It’s my job to clear the table,” Dove said. “Then Grandpa keeps me company while I start getting ready for school.”
“Okay,” Dalton said. “Are you sure you don’t need some help?”
“Very sure,” Dove said firmly.
“Okay, then,” he said, sort of sorry to leave her. “Thanks for cooking with me.”
She grinned at him, then turned to watch her grandfather giving her grandma a peck on the cheek.
“Hey,” Ella said softly, taking Dalton by the elbow.
Her hand was so small, and her touch was very light, but he felt almost breathless as he followed her into the dim of the hallway.
She stopped by the staircase and looked over hisshoulder before tilting her chin up to look him in the eyes.
“My dad makes breakfast every day,” she whispered quickly. “He can’t work the farm anymore, and it’s important for him to feel useful.”
He blinked at her for a second before her words really landed.
“I’m so sorry,” he said softly, stricken. “I didn’t mean to…”
But she was already pushing past him to get back to the kitchen before her parents could notice she was gone.
Dalton continued down the hall to pull on his boots and coat, his stomach tight with the knowledge that he had unknowingly taken the one task that gave the older man a sense of purpose.
I just got here and I already messed up…
There was nothing he could do about it now.
