Mama came outside then, barefoot and wearing straight-leg jeans and a lightweight brown sweater, both her slightly disheveled hair and her Paula Deen “Bless Your Heart” apron dotted with flour. Apparently, she’d been baking, frying chicken, or making milk gravy. Or all three. “I’ve got chicken on the stove and biscuits in the oven, so come in the house.”
She hugged Ariel then Aunt Dahlia, clearly mindless of her own state of adorable disarray.
“I’d like to talk to Ethan first, Mama.” Ariel headed toward the barn.
“Take your time. My baby and my aunt are here, so it’s a happy day at the farm.” She led the way up the steps to the old house’s porch. “I made your favorite Sunday dinner, so don’t be long.”
Yes, she could smell the fried chicken from here.
In the barn, she found Ethan measuring out feed for Reba, who stuck her soft nose into the trough. He glanced at her, then dumped more feed. “Sorry I didn’t call back the other day.”
“I know you’re busy.”
“It’s not that I didn’t want to…”
She understood. Love and closeness didn’t always go together.
“Could I ask a favor? Would you come to our concert?”
He spread another scoop of feed in the trough. “Uh, yeah. That should work.”
Not exactly the enthusiastic answer she’d hoped for. “It would mean a lot if all of you could come. I miss you. I miss my family.”
Ethan turned from the horse and gave her a half grin. More like a one-quarter grin. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Might as well change the subject, since he clearly wouldn’t give a straight answer. “How’s Sam?”
Her brother shrugged. “Not good. He didn’t want to move home. Mom and Dad baby him too much, and with Dad in the process of retiring, he’s lost interest in the farm.”
“Which puts all the weight on your shoulders.”
Ethan didn’t answer. Naturally.
“Do you know Harry, the thirteen-year-old carriage driver in town?” she asked.
“Sort of. He’s a good kid. Knows horses.”
“I’ve become friends with him. See, I thought he helped his grandfather with the wagons and carriages in order to earn tips for spending money. But I recently discovered he lives with his elderly grandfather, and Harry hands over his tips to help make ends meet.”
Ethan looked up from the trough. “He’s becoming a man pretty young.”
“Yes, and I thought what a different life that family would have if the grandfather didn’t have money worries. That made me think about Sam.”
“What about him?”
Ariel stepped over to the stall and leaned against its wall. “I never knew how to tell you this, so I kept it to myself. But when we found out Sam has Down syndrome, I started a trust fund for him. He’ll always be taken care of after we’re gone.”
Ethan dropped his scoop on the floor, seeming not to notice. “You did that for us?”
“I should have told you sooner, to relieve your worries.”
He stepped closer and gave her a hug that carried visible awkwardness for him. But even the seconds-long connection made her believe he cared.
In the house minutes later, Aunt Dahlia chatted Mama up, who stirred green beans and onions cooked in bacon grease, and turned chicken in her big iron skillet.
Ariel hadn’t smelled that heavenly aroma in a long time.
At the long farm table, Daddy’s placemat, plate, napkin, and silverware sat in the middle of the worn wooden table to make room for his real estate magazine. A hard copy, no less. He looked up at Ariel. “Is Ethan taking care of your horses?”
