Chapter Two
Neal finished putting the horses out to graze. His body ached from the excess work. Luke had gone into town to get some supplies only to be held up because it was a Sunday. Leaving him to do a great deal. His two other brothers were out in the fields doing their rounds, checking to make sure the fences were all intact.
Pulling his gloves off, he made his way into the house. The scent of apple and cinnamon wafted through the air. Licking his lips as his belly growled, he followed the delicious aroma all the way into his mother’s kitchen. Sarah Haney, his mother was a brilliant cook.
The Haney family had been ranchers for generations. Slick cowboys who worked hard and played even harder if their reputations were anything to go by. His sister, Cheyenne had a weak heart so she helped around the house while he and his brothers did the hard work. The ranch was big enough that he didn’t have to live with his parent. He owned a small house over on the next pasture. Nothing huge but something he could start a family with.
“Mom, something smells good as usual.”
“Don’t nick any. Go and get cleaned up. Luke called. He said he’s on his way home. The other two should be coming in shortly. That heat will be the death of us if we aren’t careful.”
He washed his hands and the sweat off his brow. The summer was turning into one of the worst he’d ever lived through. Unbuttoning his shirt, he splashed some water on his chest.
While he cleaned up, his dad, Luke and two brothers had returned. Cheyenne sat at the table reading a book. His mom pulled the roast out of the oven and placed the meat on a board before handing it to his dad to cut.
“Thanks, Sarah.” His dad took the knife and began carving. Neal sat down, waiting as their mom set bowls of mashed and roast potatoes, parsnips, and vegetables with lots of gravy in the center of the table.#p#分页标题#e#
“How was town, dear?” Sarah asked Luke.
“Busy. There are a lot of problems with the drought. Folks are scared of their crops being destroyed from the lack of rain.”
Neal served himself putting plenty of mashed potatoes and vegetables on his plate. He was starving. Glancing around the table, he noted one of the chairs remained vacant. Since Sandy had been a kid she’d been coming to the Haney house for Sunday dinner. Her presence is what made the event so memorable. She and Luke were a pair together. They could have the whole family in fits of laughter over a high school tale or something.
“Where’s Sandy?” he asked.
Every member of his family turned to stare at him. Neal understood why. After she’d turned eighteen—evolving into a sex goddess—he’d spent as much time as possible trying to avoid her.
“She called earlier to cancel,” Cheyenne told him. “Said she didn’t think it was appropriate hanging around here when she has her own family.”
Luke slammed the jug of gravy on the table.
Neal knew something else was going on but for the life of him couldn’t think what it could be.
“I can’t believe that. Since that girl has been out of diapers, causing trouble with Luke, she’s always been here for Sunday dinner,” his dad said.
“I can think of one problem,” Luke said.
Sandy had a few issues with her parents who didn’t agree with her lifestyle. Her two older sisters had moved out of the house, gone to college and were now professionals in the fields of medicine and law. Sandy didn’t leave home to pursue higher education. Her parents forced her out when she started working at the beauty salon in town. She painted women’s nails while listening to their troubles. He knew this because he listened to the women he dated. Everyone he knew had a nice thing to say about Sandy. She didn’t start fights. Her loyalties to her friends were strong.
“Don’t you think she wants to spend some time with her own family?” Neal argued.
“Not when she loves being here. Sundays at her folks are all about how wonderful her sisters are when she’s still a small town girl. Strange considering I saw her folks around town while I waited for our order. Sandy wasn’t there.”
Silence descended on the table. Neal ate the rest of his meal understanding their annoyance at him. But why did they have to blame him? They blamed him even though she spent a great deal of time rubbing him the wrong way.
Luke sent glares his way as the meal turned tense. Sandy’s presence was missed. Seeing the chair she usually sat in, empty, did things inside his chest he didn’t like. Frowning, he scooped up some more food. His mother’s cooking was the best but he couldn’t taste anything. In fact the meal left a bitter taste in his mouth.