“Someone has to make sure the worm actually makes it to the designated destination. I wouldn’t want you to receive rewards you haven’t earned.”
“I wouldn’t want to take anything that you don’t want to give,” he said, serious, and she thought he was giving her an out. She sure didn’t want it, but she didn’t want to admit it, either.
“If you earn it, you’ll get it.” Her fingers squeezed the hair that was wrapped around them.
A small curve bent his lip. “I’d do something a lot harder than this to earn a prize like that.”
Before she could respond, he looked around at the kids. “Ready, guys?”
A chorus of “yeahs” rang out.
He lifted the worm up. Cora truly did want to close her eyes. The wiggling worm with a few pieces of dirt still stuck to it made her want to hold her stomach and lean over.
Abner dropped it in his mouth and closed, chewing, holding his hands out, like that proved he wasn’t doing something nefarious with the worm in his mouth.
Just thinking of the wiggling and the squishing and the...ugh, going on in his mouth made bile back up in Cora’s throat, and her stomach curled into a little ball and tried to sneak out her backbone.
About twenty seconds later, Abner swallowed and opened his mouth, pointing it at the boys.
“It’s gone,” Andrew said, his lips barely moving and his eyes looking like he’d just looked into a fresh tomb. Which, strictly speaking, he had.
“You really ate it,” Derrick said, in that same hushed, shocked tone.
Summer stared at his mouth. Then her eyes moved to his face. Cora really couldn’t tell if she was appalled or amazed. Maybe both. Or, since she was five, probably more amazed than appalled.
“I did.” Abner shrugged. “They’re actually kinda good for you, but they taste like wet socks that have been left in a basement for a year.”
“I don’t think I could have handled the wiggling,” Cora said, still not sure her stomach had reattached itself into its proper position. Seemed like it might have been sitting on the front steps waiting on a taxi. Maybe a neighbor would take pity and call an Uber.
“Just makes it more challenging.” With one more look at the boys, opening his mouth and hands, he picked up a chair and moved it over beside Cora. “My seat.”
She raised her brows, not sure how she felt about the whole worm deal but entirely too sure on how she felt about Abner.
Chapter 14
“If I give you my knife, will you sharpen some sticks for us?” Abner asked. Cora still looked a little grossed out, and he hoped it wasn’t a permanent feeling for her. That wasn’t the first worm he’d ever eaten, although, he had to say, it was easily the biggest.
Still, he meant every word when he said he’d do something a lot harder to win that prize.
“Mom has to kiss you,” Derrick said, picking out a stick from the pile.
“Maybe we’d better wait until her stomach has settled a little,” Abner suggested. He’d prefer she wasn’t green and looking like she was going to throw up when she kissed him for the first time. From the way she was acting, it would probably be a peck on the forehead, but wherever her lips landed, he was going to enjoy it.
“Sometimes she forgets. Don’t let her,” Andrew warned.
“Maybe after we eat,” Abner said, pulling his pocketknife out. “I’ll take Claire.”
“I was going to go in and get her highchair. It might as well be out here with the rest of the kitchen furniture,” Cora said matter-of-factly.
“If all the furniture ends up out here, are we going to move the bonfire into the kitchen?”
“That might be a little hard to explain to the landlord.”
“That we burnt the house down? Yeah.” Abner grinned. “’Course, Thanksgiving dinner around a campfire might be more ‘traditional’ than around a table.”
“The pilgrims worked hard so we don’t have to,” Cora replied.
“Nothing wrong with hard work.”
“Nothing wrong with modern conveniences. Like a house.”
“Well, boys. Guess your mother wants to be boring and eat Thanksgiving inside,” Abner said lightly, thinking she wouldn’t take offense but take it like the teasing he meant it to be.
“Like the rest of the country.” She rolled her eyes.
Yeah, she could take teasing.
“Aw, Mom,” Derrick whined.
“We could eat outside for the rest of our lives.” Andrew looked hopefully at Abner. A sharp pinch gripped his chest, because he hadn’t been given the choice to stay.
“That would get old, then it would be a treat to eat inside,” Cora said reasonably, taking the knife he handed her, while he took Claire off her shoulder.
“But for Thanksgiving. That would be fun!” Derrick slapped Andrew’s upraised hand and they jumped around together.
“We’ve never done that before.” Summer looked a little skeptical.
“Could we really do it, Mr. Abner?” Andrew stopped and looked at Abner like he could actually make that decision.
Abner shrugged. “It’s up to your mom.”
Cora snorted. “If you want to try to cook a turkey over an open fire, you have right at that thing. I’m fine with it. I’ll take a morning nap and get up in time to belly up to the...campfire.”
“Guess that’s a no. I’m not doing it without your mother.” Abner shrugged.
“Oh, no. I’m not going to be the bad guy in this situation. You’re the one who suggested cooking Thanksgiving over the campfire. Own it, mister.”
“I am owning it. With you.” His grin got a little crafty. “Haven’t you ever heard the borrower is servant to the lender?”
“I have, but I have no idea what that has to do with anything, other than I suspected you were slightly nuts when you ate that worm, and now I’m convinced you’d have to go backward to park there.”
“What does that mean about servants?” Summer asked.
“It means, honey,” Abner said, “that people who owe things are servants to the people who don’t. Which, since your mother owes me two kisses, she’s my servant.”
Cora’s mouth dropped. She didn’t seem to be able to decide whether to be offended or to laugh. “Talk about taking the Bible and twisting it to suit your purposes. My children will be warped for life.”
“You’re telling me you don’t owe me?” he asked, putting a hot dog on the stick that Cora had made for Summer and keeping an eye on the boys as they held their hot dogs over the fire. “Or are you saying you’re gonna renege?”
“I would never.” Her eyes flashed. “I have no idea what that has to do with anything, anyway. Your argument isn’t going in a straight line.”
“It was easy to follow. You’re cooking Thanksgiving dinner with me. Out here. The kids will help. It’ll be fun.”
“And I have to help you why?”
“Because you owe me.”
She stood up. He grinned. Supper just got a lot more interesting.
“That’s it. I don’t care if you just ate a worm. I’m paying you now, because I can’t stand to have you lord it over my head for one more second.”
He stood still, Claire in one arm, Luna hugging his leg, as Cora stomped across the six feet that separated them.
Man, she was beautiful. Maybe not in a classic sense where she’d be a cover model or a pinup. But with the fire and fun in her eye and the way she moved and the fun he had dancing with their words. He’d rather hold her and dance for real, but she’d take his teasing and give it back, gently or with a kick. Either way, she held his heart.
He waited while she stopped in front of him. Unless she was going to plant one on his collarbone and make it count, or jump up and slap one on the bottom of his chin, she wasn’t paying her bet off yet. He was planning a kiss that would need a “13” after the PG.
He smirked at her as realization dawned over her face that she’d need his help in order to pay her bet.
Her chin jutted
out.
He started speaking before she could. “We could compromise.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“I need a roll.” Derrick came over with a hot dog that was black on one side and looked to be cold on the other. It would probably taste better than a worm, but not by much. The nutrition value would come in second, though. A hot dog was definitely not whole food. A worm, on the other hand...
Cora pursed her lips before bending and picking up the bag of rolls at her feet. He waited, making sure Summer was okay with her hot dog and Kohlton still hadn’t decided to cook one. Luna was still beside him, and Claire seemed happy in his arms.
Cora stood again, her hands on her hips, a sharpened stick she’d gotten from somewhere in her hands.
He eyed it. “Wanna trade?” He jiggled Claire.
“No.” She smiled sweetly. Then she put the hot dog in her hand on the stick and held it out over the fire, bringing Kohlton into her arm. “What was your compromise?”
“We’ll eat dinner inside and cook dessert outside.”
“Pumpkin pies over the fire?” She gave him a doubtful look.
“Mountain pies.”
“Well, that actually sounds nice, but I don’t have any mountain pie makers.”
“Oh, woman of little faith.”
She grinned. Maybe she’d had as bad of a childhood as he had, but she’d been in church enough to get his Bible references.
“We have three days. I think the boys and I can figure something out.”
“Yeah, we can do it!” Andrew shouted.
“Do what?” Derrick asked.
Andrew shrugged.
Cora bit back a smile. “Are you going to bend down here so I can pay you?”
Abner lifted his brows. “Half now, half later?”
Cora sighed. “Okay.”
“I want the big half later.” He pitched his voice low and smiled when she shivered.
“Guess you flunked math.” She flipped her ponytail over her shoulder and helped Kohlton to hold the stick.
He affected a wounded air. “I offer a compromise, I’m gonna bend down and accommodate the short woman—”
She gasped and put her hands on her hips, almost losing Kohlton’s hot dog.
He ignored her and went on, “And how does she pay me back, except insult my intelligence.”
“Halves, by definition, are equal.”
He smiled, shaking his head. “Let me put it to you this way.” He looked over, seeing that Andrew and Derrick had finished their hot dogs and were helping Summer put hers in a roll. Lowering his voice, he said, “I’ll take a kiss the kids can see now. But I want the other one after they go to bed.”
His eyes glinted into hers.
Her mouth opened. Then closed. She caught her lip between her teeth, and something like fear pinched her eyes.
It hurt that she didn’t seem to want him. And maybe the harder he chased her, the faster she would run, but he didn’t have time to back off. He only had two weeks. Less than.
So he didn’t let up, and he didn’t back off.
Her lips weren’t smiling. Her voice was little more than a whisper. It didn’t have to be loud. They were standing right in front of each other. “Just because I have six kids doesn’t mean I’m easy.”
Oh, that hurt, and he closed his eyes, backing up after all. How could the words that came from his heart and out his mouth hit her so much differently than how he meant them to?
“Maybe at one time, that was true,” she said.
These words hurt worse.
“But it’s not anymore.” She bent down, helping Kohlton take his hot dog out of the fire and getting him a roll.
She placed Kohlton on a chair, and he was standing beside her, ready, when she stood up. “I never said you were. I never thought you were. Not for me.”
“Your mother just left, and you’re already talking about what we’re going to do when the kids go to bed. I’m out.” She hadn’t raised her eyes to meet his, and she turned.
He caught her arm. Not demanding but asking her to stop.
She did. But she didn’t look at him.
“I’ll sit on my hands if it will make you feel better. But I kinda wanted to touch you the first time I kissed you. Been waiting for it for years.”
Her eyes shot to his.
He couldn’t tell if she’d figured out what he was saying. He supposed it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he could prove it. She’d have to take his word for it, although he wasn’t in the habit of lying. Again, not something she’d know.
“Thought you said you wanted to be ‘friends?’” Her eyes held derision, and he knew, again, she hadn’t understood.
“I do.”
“With benefits?” Her eyes narrowed. “No thank you.”
“Can I have another hot dog?” Summer asked, blinking up from beside them.
“Of course you can, sweetie,” Cora said, moving away and grabbing the package.
Kohlton needed help, and he balanced Claire in one arm while putting the hot dog that Kohlton must have gotten out himself on the stick. He doubted the boy would eat a second one, but it was possible. Working in the cool fall air could really stir up an appetite.
By the time he was done, Andrew had burned two marshmallows black and wanted Abner to show him how to cook them and Cora had Luna up on her lap and used his knife to cut up pieces of a hot dog to feed her.
He wanted to tease her about falling in love with his knife, but after the way their conversation had ended, he wasn’t sure she was even talking to him.
Dang it. He liked her. Maybe more. He’d already fallen for her kids. He wanted this to be his life. He’d be happy to spend every day like this, hanging out in the backyard, flirting with his girl, loving on his kids, but anticipating bedtime. They just needed a dog to eat the hot dogs that fell on the ground and about six more kids. And a North Dakota sky. The Ohio sky might be the same in theory, but in reality, it wasn’t wild enough for him.
Maybe he just wasn’t made to live in town. He’d do it, though, if he got everything else he wanted. It wasn’t just any family. He wanted this one. And there was only one girl that would do. Man, he didn’t know what he would do if she wouldn’t take him this time.
The stars were out in force, and the fire had died down. Cora had made a lot of s’mores for the kids, and he held two sleepy little girls in his arms. He was pretty sure he had chocolate on his face and neck and melted marshmallow stuck in his beard. If he were going to stay here for the next ten days or so, he’d need to go to town and buy a razor.
He’d never gotten to sit in the seat beside Cora, but facing her across the fire was almost as nice.
Derrick and Andrew had quit wrestling and lay stretched out, looking at the stars. Cora held Kohlton, and Summer sat at her feet. He supposed they should have brought a book out and read some. If he remembered correctly, Cora had a pretty nice singing voice as well.
It had been a good day and a great evening. He was tired, pleasantly so, from physical labor and from having fun with his family.
“It’s bedtime.” Cora stood. The boys groaned, but they got up, too. She carried Kohlton and held her hand out for Summer.
Abner stood. The fire was glowing embers and nothing more. “I’ll take care of putting those out completely, but I’ll help you get the kids upstairs first.”
“Thanks,” she said, and he assumed he wasn’t getting the silent treatment.
“You boys can each carry a chair in. I’ll get the rest of them.” It wouldn’t take long to carry the chairs in, but it wouldn’t hurt the boys to help.
“Make sure there’s no dirt stuck to the bottoms of them,” Cora instructed.
It took about twenty minutes to get the kids wiped down and teeth brushed and ready for bed. Abner had changed Claire and handed her off to Cora, who acted like she didn’t see him. Maybe she was thinking about paying the bet off, or maybe she was still miffed because she thought he’d wanted more than she had offer
ed.
He slipped downstairs, wanting to stay but feeling like Cora didn’t want him to. It wasn’t his family.
He doused the burning embers with water and carried the last two chairs into the kitchen. Cora stood at the sink, wringing her hands before dropping them to her sides.
The way she was acting, he kinda felt like she was going to give him his walking papers. He didn’t think he could fight her to stay. He’d pushed as hard as he dared tonight, and she’d been pretty clear about her no. If she told him to pack it up, what other choice did he have?
He set the chair down and stood in front of her with a good six feet between them and braced himself. If she wouldn’t walk with him, he’d walk alone. He could be in North Dakota by midnight tomorrow. And miserable for the rest of his life.
“Are you going to sit down?” she asked.
“Are you?”
“After you do.”
That was odd. But he sat, nerves twisting and balling and pulling in his stomach. He tried to remember to breathe.
Cora, unsmiling, walked slowly over. She didn’t stop, as he expected her to, and didn’t take a chair of her own, but continued until she was beside him, bending down and touching her lips to his forehead. They stayed there, it felt like forever but not long enough, and he closed his eyes, breathing in all the scents that mixed together, the chocolate and marshmallow, the hot dogs and woodsmoke, little kids and, under it all, that totally unique, slightly sweet, and very evocative scent that was all Cora. The one that used to be overlaid with cotton candy but had matured along with the girl into a womanly scent that made him feel like he’d do anything, anything at all, to keep the woman it belonged to.
She straightened and didn’t speak until he opened his eyes. It took him a minute.
“That was one.”
He nodded, because he couldn’t talk.
“Sit on your hands.”
His lungs froze, and his mouth went dry. He was thankful to be sitting down, too. But she still wasn’t smiling, and he hadn’t changed his mind about taking what she didn’t want to give.
“You don’t have to do this.”
Her eye twitched. “I want to.”
He wasn’t sure he believed her. She didn’t look happy about it. He stared into her eyes. There was determination there. Something else, but he wasn’t sure what it was.
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