Holidays on the Ranch (Burnt Boot, Texas #1)(5)

“I missed that most of all,” she said.

“Hey, Callie, when is supper? Do I have time to read a little while?” Martin yelled from his room.

“He’s afraid to come out here for fear he’ll wake up and this will be a dream,” Callie said and then raised her voice. “Go ahead and read.”

“Speaking of supper, we should probably go to the store and lay in staples. It’s closed tomorrow,” he said. “I make a pretty mean ham and cheese sandwich and I do know how to open a can of tomato soup to go with it, but I’m not even sure there’s enough ham for three sandwiches.”

“I’ll make supper, Finn. I think I can do better than soup and sandwiches if you’ll show me where things are located.”

He chuckled. “Your guess is good as mine. I’ve been living on frozen pizza and sandwiches for two days.”

He stood up and held out his hand. “Trust me, there’s nothing in the refrigerator. The freezer is full, but everything is frozen. The pantry isn’t too shabby, but pickin’s are slim on staples.”

She put her hand in his. “Then I suppose we should go to the store.”

***

He pulled her up and held her hand just a minute longer than necessary. He could give her directions and the keys to the work truck, but he didn’t want to let her out of his sight. He’d thought he was ready for solitude and to get away from the big O’Donnell extended family, but after two days he was downright lonesome. Old Shotgun listened well, but he didn’t answer back with anything but a wagging tail.

Callie looked at the clock on the microwave. “When we get back, I could make supper while you do chores. He’s a magpie and seldom ever shuts up, but if he could help in any way, Martin would probably love to go with you. But if you’d rather take care of things without him driving you crazy with a million questions, he can read in his room or I’ll get him busy helping me.”

“I’d love to take him with me, and I’m sure it would make Shotgun happy. Want to tell him to get his coat on so we can go to the store now?”

His heart seized up the second she was out of his sight, so he followed her. “The old work truck is yours anytime you want to use it. Keys are hanging on a nail out in the utility room. I’ll tell Gladys—she’s the lady who owns the store—that you can charge on the ranch bill,” he said.

Callie stopped at the bedroom door and knocked. “Martin, we’re going to the grocery store. Use a bookmark and get your coat.”

“When we get back, if you’re not too tired I expect I could use a hand this evening with the chores,” Finn said, but his eyes were on Callie the whole time.

Martin climbed down the ladder at the end of the bed as quickly as his legs could get him to the floor. “I’m not too tired. You just tell me what you want me to do and I’ll take care of it.”

“I can always use an extra set of eyes to check on things for me,” Finn said.

“I can do that. I like doin’ ranch work. Are we going to church tomorrow?” Martin asked.

“You want to go to church?” Finn was amazed. “My mama had to drag me to church when I was your age.”

“I like the music.” Martin tied his shoes and grabbed his coat. “Someday I’m going to play a guitar and sing.”

“Then, yes, we’ll go to church if Callie wants to,” Finn said.

“Thank you,” Callie whispered. “For everything.”

Finn led the way back to the kitchen, with Callie and Martin behind him. “You are more than welcome.”

Her coat was still hanging on the back of the kitchen chair where she’d put it when she first came into the house. He picked it up and held it for her. The movement sent a whiff of her perfume wafting up to his nose, the scent triggering dozens of memories.

“I forgot to show your room to you. Want to see it now or when we get back?”

“Later,” she said.

***

An old-time bell clanged when Finn opened the door into the country store. It was well stocked for a little country store. Cans of food lined up neatly on spotless shelves. A small but clean-looking meat counter at the back, and one of those old cash registers with a hundred buttons on it was centered on the checkout counter, which was cluttered with a candy bar display, a jar of lollipops, and a couple of newspapers dated two days before.

“Help you?” A head that went with the gravelly voice popped up from behind the butcher station. “Hey, Finn, I thought you’d be in before now.”

“Hey, Miz Gladys, how are you this cold day?”

“Gettin’ too damn old for this kind of hours, but what’s a woman to do? Who you got there with you?” Gladys asked.

“This is Callie Brewster and her nephew, who lives with her. They are my new hired hands on Salt Draw. Can you make a note to let Callie charge on the ranch account, please, ma’am?”

“Of course I can. I’m Gladys Cleary. I’m glad to see he’s hiring a crew.” She wiped her hands on an oversized white canvas apron that testified to the fact that she’d been working with a hindquarter of beef all day. She was a tall, lanky woman with just a touch of white in her black hair. High cheekbones and dark eyes said that she had some Native American blood, but the name Cleary definitely sounded Irish.