“The dogs?” Adam snorted. “I’m not Dillon Walsh. Clowns travel with their dogs.”
He snorted. His pups were less…house friendly than these. Him and Sister, they had themselves a pack of wild pups that liked to chase nutria. ’Gators. Trespassers.
The ’gators were best. Lord. That was always fun.
They headed down a well-graded gravel path, toward a pretty big, old house—not a mansion or nothing, but a good-looking stone place with big old roses growing like crazy. Landon smiled. It was a good place. Sister would like it.
Two ladies came out of the house—a tiny, fierce old lady and an Amazon of a blonde who was just like his cowboy. Adam looked like his momma for all the world. Well, all the boys did.
“Is this the Cajun, then?” The older lady peered at him. “Reba Taggart.”
He headed over, beaming, and grabbed her hand and kissed it. “You bein’ Adam’s baby sister, then?”
She smacked his shoulder with her free hand, way stronger than she seemed. “Listen to you!”
“No? You sure, ma’am?”
“I am.” She grabbed his arm and headed toward the house. “You meet my daughter-in-law, there?”
“No, ma’am.” He stopped before Adam’s momma. “Landon Gaudet. Pleased to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, hon. How do you feel about King Ranch casserole?”
“I love it.” He didn’t know what the fuck it was, but he’d eaten things when Sister was learning to cook ten years ago that would gag a maggot. He’d eat it and be happy. Adam had mentioned eating it a million times, so it must be okay.
“Well, good. Granny made some today for lunch.” She walked with them, and he lost track of Adam.
Granny’s hand wrapped around his arm and he slowed a bit, letting her keep up.
“You a good cook, Miss Reba?” Landon asked.
“I can be, if I pay attention.” Her laugh was just the best, loud and happy. “I get too much beer in the beans sometimes.”
“Oh, now. There ain’t no such thing as too much beer.”
“No? I like you more and more every minute.” She batted non-existent eyelashes at him, a bit like a mummy from one of them movies.
They laughed together, moving through the big old house, to a huge kitchen with a table like something you’d see at a gather. Long oak planks stretched on forever, with maybe twelve chairs around it. “Look at that!”
“What?” She glanced around the kitchen, worried. “Is there a mouse?”
“No. That’s the neatest table I ever seen.” He grinned. Lord, he could see the guys as little boys, just sitting there.
“Oh, we’ve had it forever. In fact, it was a hand-me-down when I got married.” She winked at him. “I bet a Cajun family like yours has some old stuff.”
“Me and Sister live in the house my folks have been in since the pirates were in the Crescent City.”
“Oh, my.” She nodded. “I got cousins in Port A like that. She’s a nutter.’
“Gotta love folks that come from pirates, lady.”
“Yes!”
“Y’all gonna get dishes out or just jaw?” Adam’s momma grinned at them when they both stared at her, hands on her hips.
“Point me and shoot me, ma’am. I can work.”
“Plates are in that cabinet there.”
