He already had some on his plate.
The bowl started around. Ben watched its progress as if it might disappear any minute. Christina could feel his deep disappointment that she’d lied to him. Like a wall had suddenly gone up between them. Her hands started to shake. She hid them in her lap.
Everyone was looking at her. They knew, didn’t they. That she had so much to hide.
The seconds trailed out. Christina felt her face go hot.
“So, Tamel.” Maddy’s voice was over-light. She had to lean around Jess to see his face. “What’s new in your life?”
The focus shifted to him. But Christina felt little relief. Her insides still trembled. With effort, she picked up her fork.
Tamel scratched his cheek. “Well, I did have quite the situation a few weeks ago.”
“Oh, do tell.”
Most everyone perked up, expectation on their faces. Jess shook her head, as if already bored. Ben shoved food in his mouth, inches—and a world—away from Christina.
Tamel laid down his fork and knife. “Well, you know I moved in with Dad about ten months ago. And those crazy neighbors next to him—the Berkenshires?—they’ve got these pet rabbits in a bunch of cages. Drives Rufus nuts.” Tamel looked across the table at Christina. “Rufus is my dad’s hound dog.”
She managed a nod. Her throat felt so dry. She took a drink of tea.
“I don’t know who procreates more, the Berkenshires or the rabbits. The last five years every time I came home they had another kid. And the rabbit cages keep gettin’ bigger. Rufus knows he’s not supposed to go in that yard, but the pull is just too strong. He slinks down there at night and noses around the cages. Just imagine all those tasty treats sittin’ in front of you, and no way to get to ’em.”
Jess reached for another rib, trying to look uninterested.
“One night a couple weeks ago Burt Berkenshire—that’s the dad—comes up to my door with a shotgun. Says he sees my dog in his yard one more time, he’s gonna pull the trigger.”
Mrs. Dearing gasped. “He wouldn’t do that!”
Christina felt numb. What would happen when Ben demanded to know why she hadn’t told him her father was dead?
“Oh, yes, he would.” Tamel’s head went up and down. “So I started puttin’ Rufus in the garage at night. Crazy dog howls around and lets me know he’s mighty unhappy. I told him it’s all his fault ’cause he wouldn’t behave himself. Anyway, three nights ago he got out. I think Dad left the backdoor not totally latched. I didn’t know it till the next mornin’ when Rufus shows up on my porch with a dead, dirty rabbit in his mouth.”
Oh-nos and laughter flew around the table. Christina forced a laugh, too—then wished she hadn’t. It sounded so fake.
Ben kept eating.
Lacey gripped Christina’s leg. “Did that man kill Rufus?”
“No, Little Lace, don’t you worry,” Tamel said.
“Did you hide his gun, Uncle Tamel?”
“Nope. I hid the dead rabbit. Sort of.”
“You must have buried it.” Mr. Dearing’s eyebrows raised.
Tamel dipped his chin. “Tell you the truth, I panicked when I saw that dead critter. Usually I’d do the honest thing and go over to my neighbor’s and admit what happened. But I couldn’t and have Rufus live to see another sunrise. Besides, it wasn’t totally my dog’s fault. He got outta the garage, sure, but who let that rabbit outta its cage? So I did the only thing I could think of. I cleaned up that dead-as-a-doornail rabbit and snuck over to the Berkenshire’s yard that night.” Tamel hunched his shoulders. “My heart liked to beat outta my ribs. If Burt woke up, I’d be the dead one instead of Rufus. But I managed to stuff that critter back in his cage without makin’ a sound. Then I hightailed it home.”
Mr. and Mrs. Dearing exchanged grins. Even Ben chuckled. Hope trickled through Christina. Please, God, please …
Maddy tilted her head. “Tamel Curd, I never thought I’d live to see you so devious.”
He shrugged—what else could I do?
Jake laughed. “Ol’ Burt musta thought that rabbit had a sudden heart attack.”
Tamel picked up his fork, then put it back down. “Actually, it wasn’t that simple.” He scratched his chin. “See, the next day I got up and went outside. Couldn’t help lookin’ over at their yard, wonderin’ when somebody would find the dead rabbit. They say a criminal returns to the scene of the crime. Guess so. I was just hopin’ it wasn’t one of the kids that found the rabbit. So what do I see but Burt Berkenshire standin’ in front of the deadie’s cage. And he stands there and stands there. The man just doesn’t move. I’m startin’ to get more and more antsy, thinkin’ what? Did I leave my DNA all over the corpse or somethin’?”
The laughter grew louder. Christina glanced at Jess. She was leaning on her elbow away from Tamel, looking at him as if she didn’t believe a word he said.
“So finally I can’t stand it anymore. I call out, ‘Hey, Burt! Everything okay with your rabbits?’ He turns around and looks at me, all pale-faced. Like he’s seen a ghost. So I say, ‘What’s wrong?’ and start walkin’ over to him.” Tamel listed toward Jess. “You know, the criminal actin’ all innocent.”
She flicked a look at the ceiling.
“When I get up to Burt, all he can do is point toward the cage. And there lies the dead rabbit, just like I left him. Then Burt looks at me, all jittery, and says, ‘That ol’ hare died yesterday. I buried him way out in the field, where the kids wouldn’t find him. Now here he is again, all cleaned up.’” Tamel widened his eyes and raised both hands, fingers curved. “‘Back from the graaaaave!’”
Laughter burst around the table. Ben chuckled, but it sounded stiff. Mr. Dearing pounded his fist, making his plate jump. Mama Ruth laughed so hard her eyes filled with tears. The sounds washed through Christina but could not clear her lungs.
Jess just crossed her arms.
“Ah, come on.” Tamel poked her shoulder. “You know that’s funny.”
“What I know is it’s not true.”
“Is so.”
“Is not. I’ve heard that story before, passed around on the Internet. You go to Snopes, you’ll see it’s made up.”
Tamel’s forehead wrinkled. “Snopes?”
“Snopes.com, where you go to see if some story forwarded in e-mails is true or not.”
Tamel’s jaw dropped. “Snopes is tellin’ my story?”
“Yes, Tamel.” Jess’s head wagged. “For years now.”
Indignation flattened Tamel’s face. “How can that be? This just happened two weeks ago!”
Jess picked up her glass of sweet tea. “Uh-huh.”
Christina stole a glance at Ben. His eyes flicked to her, then back to Tamel.
Mama Ruth wiped a tear from her eye. “Well, I think it’s true. I’ve never known Tamel to make up stories.”
“Me too,” Lacey declared.
Pogey’s round face was split with a grin. “Whatja do after he told you that, Uncle Tamel?”
Tamel chuckled. “I just backed away real slow, like I didn’t want any part of a ghost rabbit. I did manage to say ‘Sorry for your loss.’”
That sent everyone laughing again. Jess rolled her eyes.
Slowly the table quieted. Silverware clinked. The family turned their attention once again to the food. Christina didn’t want to eat another thing. She picked up her fork and forced down a bite of meat.
Ben drank the last of his tea and set down his empty glass. In a heartbeat Jess was up to refill it. Christina’s eyes tracked her into the kitchen and back, carrying the pitcher. Jess refilled Ben’s glass, then others’. Ben didn’t even say thank you.
The dread in Christina’s stomach deepened. Would he expect her to wait on him like that? Just like she’d had to wait on her father?
“Uh-oh.” Mr. Dearing’s amused voice jerked Christina from her thoughts. She looked up to see him gesturing with his chin toward the doorway into the kitchen. At the threshold close to the floor a little golden snout
and one eye peeked around the corner.
“Aw.” Jess made an empathetic sound in her throat. “We’re takin’ too long.”
“What else is new?” Mrs. Dearing laughed.
“Lady Penelope.” Mr. Dearing’s tone pulsed with authority. But there was love in it, too, not meanness. “We’re still eatin’.”
The nose disappeared. From around the corner came a loud and long doggie sigh. Little toenails slowly clicked across the tiled kitchen floor.
Mr. Dearing shook his head at Christina. Could he tell how on the edge she was? “She gets impatient.”
Christina swallowed. She needed to say something. “Will she go back to her bed?”
“Yup. But you wait, the minute she hears people gettin’ up, she’ll be out here.”
The rest of the meal blurred. People talked and laughed and ate. Christina put food in her mouth and shoved it down, no longer tasting. Ben felt like a block of ice next to her.
Finally Mrs. Dearing and her three daughters got up to clear the table. Christina rose to help. When they entered the kitchen, bearing plates, Penny bounced out of her bed. Maddy pointed and told her to get back. “We’re not done yet.”
The Yorkie walked away on stiff legs, nose held high, as if to say ”I don’t need you anyway.”
Jess stifled a laugh. “She only puts on that air when there’s people around to see her. When we’re in the dinin’ room it’s the big ol’ sigh. She doesn’t seem to realize we can hear her.”
Jess was trying to be nice. Act like she didn’t see what was going on between Christina and Ben. Christina glanced back into the dining room and caught his eye. He looked away.
Her heart folded over.
Mrs. Dearing pulled two warmed apple pies from the oven. Maddy fetched a large plastic container from the fridge. Whipped cream.
“I’ll make the coffee.” Sarah moved toward the large coffee maker.
“Oh, no, you won’t.” Maddy used a hip to nudge her sister aside.
“But I brought my own grind!”
“You always bring your own, you coffee snob. That doesn’t mean the rest of us want to drink that motor oil.”
“Now, girls.” Mama Ruth spoke mildly, as if she’d heard this argument before.
“Motor oil?” Sarah ran a hand through her short brown hair. “I’ll have you know it’s expensive coffee, ground to perfection.”
“It’s not the brand.” Maddy poured water into the machine. “It’s just that you make it so doggone strong.”
Christina leaned against the counter, trying to disappear.
“Oh, humph.” Sarah made a face. “You can put water in yours, but I can’t make mine stronger.”
“So make yourself one of your lattes, and let me make the coffee for everyone else.”
Sarah stuck her hands on her hips. “Fine, then. Think I will.” She looked to Christina. “You like lattes?”
Christina’s nerves pinged. The last thing she needed right now was to be stuck in an argument between Ben’s sisters. She glanced from Sarah to Maddy. “I guess.”
Sarah lowered her chin at the wishy-washy answer. “Do you like lattes, or don’t you?”
Christina swallowed. She glanced around for Mrs. Dearing, but the woman was back in the dining room. Jess stood across the kitchen, watching Christina. “I … yes.”
Sarah shot a satisfied smile at Maddy. “So would you like one tonight? I’ll make you the greatest one you’ve ever had.”
As if her stomach could take another thing—
“Don’t listen to her, Christina.” Jess wagged a finger. “That drink will be so thick it could walk down the street. And it’ll keep you up all night.”
Sarah narrowed her eyes at her sister. “Excuse me, Jessica, but you are not in this conversation. And besides, it’s decaf.”
Jess and Sarah eyed each other, then turned to Christina—well?
Christina licked her lips. “I … sure, I’d love one.”
“Hah, see there?” Sarah waved a hand at her sisters. “Christina, my dear, you will not be sorry.”
A unison response from Maddy and Jess—“Yes, you will.”
Mrs. Dearing returned, carrying small plates from the dining hutch. Christina helped her put slices on the plates and take them out to the table. When Christina placed a piece before Ben, she dared to touch his shoulder. He looked up at her and blinked, no smile. His expression mixed anger and hurt.
She’d hurt him? The thought pierced her to the core. And almost frightened her more than his anger.
How would he act when he was alone with her? Would he hit her?
Christina gave him a shaky smile and turned back to the kitchen.
“Y’all go ahead and eat,” Sarah called to her family. “Christina and I are makin’ lattes.”
“Weren’t waitin’ for ya anyway,” Jess said. But Christina heard a smile wrapped around the words.
Relief struck Christina in the chest. One quiet moment. She leaned against the counter, feeling weak. Her tired eyes followed Sarah’s movements in the latte-making process.
Sarah had a way about her that seemed so … definitive. Like she knew every step and followed each one precisely. Sarah had a pretty face. Strong jawline and clear, milky skin. Not tanned like Jess or Maddy. She certainly didn’t look nearly forty.
Sarah measured milk and half-and-half into a cup. “So when’s the wedding?”
Christina blinked. “I … we don’t know. Things have all happened so fast …”
Probably wouldn’t be one now.
“No time to talk about it?”
“Something like that.”
Sarah poured the creamy contents into two mugs. “Well, don’t worry. When the time’s right, it’ll happen.”
“Yeah.” The response sounded weak to her own ears.
“Ben sure seems happy.” Sarah pushed the dairy cartons aside.
Christina searched her face. Was he really? She’d assumed he was always like that. “Well. Good.”
Sarah glanced at her and smiled.
Laughter erupted from the dining room. Jess’s voice rose in some comment, followed by a retort from Tamel. Exhaustion trailed through Christina. She did not want to go back in there. Her mouth was tired from fake smiles. And surely everyone could see her heart beat through her shirt.
Could she do this for the rest of her life? Was this really what she wanted?
Sarah began to froth the milk. No need to try to talk above the gurgling. Christina fought to beat back her emotions before they had to join the rest of the family.
When the frothing was done Sarah brewed the coffee, then poured it into the milk. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” Christina stared at the mug.
“Well go ahead, try it.”
Christina lifted the mug and took a tentative sip. The drink slid down her throat, strong and creamy. Good. Her eyes widened. “It’s wonderful.”
Sarah’s lips curved. “Don’t sound so surprised.”
“I didn’t mean—”
She raised a hand. “Christina. Relax.” She looked deep into Christina’s eyes, as if she saw right through her.
Christina looked away. Managed a small nod.
Sarah sighed with satisfaction. “Yippee. I get to go in there and announce to my sisters I have a new coffee buddy.”
Did that mean Jess and Maddy wouldn’t like her now? If they’d ever liked her at all.
Christina sipped her latte while Sarah made her own drink. With every swallow the coffee tasted better. But her insides felt hollow.
“You don’t have to stay in here with me, Christina. Go eat your pie.”
“That’s okay. I want to.”
A minute passed in silence as Sarah frothed milk.
When she was done Christina dared to ask a question. “I saw something when we all first sat down at the table. Mr. Dearing looked at Mrs.—Mama Ruth—and then looked all around, then back at her. I just wondered … it sort of felt like they’d done it a hu
ndred times.”
Sarah smiled. “You picked that up, huh. Daddy’s done that as long as I can remember.”
“What’s it mean?”
“It means he’s looked around the room and seen that she’s the prettiest one there.”
The words hit Christina in the chest. A husband would do that? After all those years of marriage?
Sarah clicked the espresso machine dial over to brew the coffee. “He always tells us girls we’re beautiful too. But we know Mama holds that special place in his heart. He started it years ago, when they were datin’. At first after lookin’ around, he’d say the words—‘you’re the prettiest one here.’ But after awhile they didn’t need the words anymore.”
Christina turned the last sentence over in her mind. What must it feel like to be that close to someone? To love each other so much you didn’t need words …
The coffee finished brewing. Sarah poured it and the milk into her mug. “All right, done. Let’s go sit down.”
Ben materialized in the kitchen doorway, carrying his empty dessert plate. His gaze latched onto Christina’s. Sarah’s eyes moved from her brother to Christina and back. “Excuse me, Ben.” She edged past him into the dining room.
With a sigh, he crossed the kitchen and set his plate in the sink. He turned to Christina. “I think we’d better talk. Let’s take a drive.”
She nodded, numb.
CHAPTER 8
Ben opened the door of his car for Christina. She was looking like a scared rabbit. What was she expecting him to do, hit her or something?
She slid inside, head down.
He got in and started the engine. It was stuffy hot in the car. He punched the air conditioner on high. No way could they talk anywhere near the house. Even now he could practically feel the eyes of his whole family watching out the window. Even if they weren’t. Even if they were sitting around the table, laughing, pretending they didn’t notice anything wrong—when everything was.
Ben’s lungs burned. How did things go wrong so fast? Sure, Chris had been evasive about her family, but to not tell him her dad was dead? And he’d specifically asked about her parents. Oh, that look in Jess’s eye when she realized he hadn’t known. After he’d told her up and down how everything between him and Chris was so good. His sister could always see right through him. She knew he couldn’t stand anyone to lie to him.
That Dog Won't Hunt (Dearing Family Series) Page 5