Falling Like Snowflakes (7 page)

“I heard that!” Miss Trudy's gruff voice carried through the wall. “I'm not a child, you know!”

Oops.
Eden bit her lip.

Beau lowered his voice. “I should've warned you. She has, like, bionic hearing. I can't even tell you.”

Eden laughed at the look on his face. The laugh sounded rusty even to her.

“If you can keep her out of the kitchen,” Beau continued in his quiet voice, “it'll be a miracle. She's kind of a control freak, and this is definitely her territory.”

“Keep her out of the kitchen. Got it. Anything else?”

“The place is a mess, and we're kind of low on groceries. Things have been a little hectic since she's been in the hospital. Whatever you can round up for supper will be fine.”

“Got it.”

He shuffled through a stack of papers on the kitchen desk and handed her one. It was a W-4. Her heart sank.

“This is for you to fill out when you get a chance.”

“Anything else?”

“Where's my knitting basket?” Miss Trudy called. “And what's that odor in here? Smells like someone barfed up baby snot.”

She met Beau's twinkling eyes and couldn't squash the smile forming on her lips. “I'll be right there, Miss Trudy!”

“Her knitting's probably in that bag we brought home from the hospital. I have to get in a couple hours at the farm. You can reach
me on my cell.” He jotted the number on a scrap of paper. “I'll leave Zac's and Riley's, too, but call me first. I have emergency money in the desk drawer.” He pulled it out and showed her a couple twenties lying amid the pens and bills. “Let me know when you're going to the grocery, and I'll leave you money. You can use Trudy's Explorer—here are the keys. Riley and I get home around six. Sometimes Zac comes over to eat, but not usually. Of course, you and Jack are welcome to eat with us.” He set a check on the table. “I thought I'd go ahead and pay you for this week, given the circumstances.”

Eden's heart softened at his thoughtfulness. “I appreciate it.”

“I guess I'll have to get up and get it myself!” Miss Trudy called.

Beau grinned at her. “That's my cue.”

When Beau left, Eden rushed into the living room and found the knitting basket. There was a ribbed blue-gray piece lying on top made with tiny, intricate stitches. Eden took the basket to Miss Trudy, who picked up the needles and resumed her work without a word.

Micah had abandoned the crayons and was watching a cartoon. After getting the woman settled and the house straightened up, she focused on supper. She stared into the freezer, feeling overwhelmed. She'd been hoping for something simple, like a box with directions, but there were no convenience meals. There were chicken breasts and ground beef in the freezer. Where did she even start?

She'd wanted to learn to cook. When she'd married Antonio she'd imagined serving four-course dinners by candlelight each night. But he wouldn't hear of it. Wives in his world didn't perform such tasks. That's what the help was for. It had been all she could do to talk him out of a nanny when Micah was born.

When she asked Miss Trudy where she kept her recipe books, the woman gave a sharp laugh. “Real cooks don't use recipes.”

Eden wished she'd asked Beau for permission to use his computer. She closed the freezer door. She was going to have to bring in the expert on this one. But when she reached the doorway to Miss Trudy's room, the woman's eyes were shut, and her chest was rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm. Eden didn't have the heart—or the nerve—to waken her.

She pulled the door quietly shut. Looked like she was on her own. Eden drew in a breath and blew it out.
Come on, Eden. You've survived a lot worse. How hard could one little meal be?

“The biscuits will be ready in a minute,” Kate said as they settled at the kitchen table.

Beau said grace, then passed the bowl to Riley who passed it to Zac. He was hungry, and the savory smell made his stomach rumble. He took a bite of the steaming goulash.

The contrasting temperatures and textures momentarily confused him. The sauce was hot, but something in the mixture—the meat?—was crunchy and frozen. The strange consistency temporarily diverted his attention from the taste—but not for long.

Some pungent spice dominated the flavor. He wasn't sure what it was, but he hoped to never have it in his mouth again.

Beside him, Riley coughed, bringing his napkin to his mouth.

Beau was pretty sure the goulash had found a new home. He felt a moment's jealousy as he forced down his own bite.

His gaze flickered to Kate, whose eyes were glued to her plate. Her boy was chewing, his brows pulled low.

“Merciful heavens, what's this supposed to be?”

“
Aunt Trudy
,” Beau said.

“There's enough sage in here to cure a decade's worth of hot flashes.”

Sage. So that's what it was.

Kate's cheeks flushed. “I'm so sorry. I didn't have a recipe—I didn't want to use your computer without asking.”

“Have at it,” Riley said, giving one final hack. “Please.”

Fear flashed in her eyes. “I'll do better next time. I promise.”

Beau gave Riley a dark look, then addressed Kate, who was looking ill. “It's okay. You can use the computer anytime. We'll just fill up on biscuits tonight.”

“What's that smell?” Aunt Trudy said about the same time he became aware of a burning odor.

“The biscuits!” Kate jumped up from the table and rushed into the kitchen.

Riley's eyes met his over the table. “Wings from the Roadhouse, anyone?”

Beau carried his plate to the sink. “Can I help with dishes or anything?”

They'd finished their take-out meal, and his brothers were settling Aunt Trudy on the sofa in the living room.

“Please. It's the least I could do.” Kate set the dishes in the sink and turned to face him, a contrite look on her face. “I am so sorry about supper. It won't happen again, I promise.”

Her long blond bangs had fallen over her worried eyes, and his finger twitched to brush them back. He pocketed his hands. “Relax. You never said you were a gourmet chef.”

“I don't have much experience in the kitchen, but I'm a fast learner. I'm sure I'll be fine once I have some recipes.”

“I'm sure you will.” He wondered how a mother like her had gotten this far without knowing some kitchen basics. Even he could throw together a few decent meals.

“Beau,” Zac called from the living room. “Get in here.”

He left Kate and Jack to the cleanup and entered the living room. The ESPN program had been muted, and everyone was eying Riley.

“What's going on?”

“Riley said he needs to talk to us,” Zac said.

“You've met a woman, haven't you?” Aunt Trudy said.

Riley rolled his eyes. “No, Aunt Trudy.”

She was always trying to marry them off. Strange, since she'd rebuffed any attempts at matchmaking since their uncle had passed fourteen years ago.

Riley's face was a serious mask. His eyebrows were pinched together and his jaw was set.

His countenance filled Beau with dread. He leaned forward, elbows planted on his knees. “What's up, bro?”

“It's a woman, I tell you. Is it that Millie Parker from Frumpy Joe's? She was flirting up a storm last time we were in.”

Riley frowned at her. “If I had a woman, I'd bring her around now and then. I've made some plans I need to tell you about. I—” Riley stared at the sofa table between them. “I enlisted in the marines.”

“What?” Zac said.

“Merciful heavens,” Aunt Trudy muttered.

Beau's heart gave a hard thump that set off a series of quakes inside. “Why?”

“I always talked about doing it.”

Beau frowned. “We
talk
about lots of things. We never thought you'd really follow through.”

Riley's eyes darted up, flashing. “Well, I did.”

“Without even running it by us?” Beau couldn't believe he'd made such a critical decision without hashing it out. It wasn't like him.

“I'm twenty-four. I don't need your permission.”

“When do you leave?” Zac asked.

“Four weeks.”

“Before Christmas?” Beau and Aunt Trudy said simultaneously.

Beau couldn't believe this. “Our first Christmas without Dad?”

“It's not like we have a real one anyway.”

They hadn't really celebrated since their mom died on Christmas Eve twelve years ago. But still. “With the farm and everything we've got going on . . . that's when you decide to bail?”

“I'm not bailing. I'm joining the armed forces.”

“If you say so.”

“Stop making it sound cowardly. Most families are proud when a relative enlists.”

A beat of silence only amplified the tension in the room.

Zac's eyes sharpened on Riley. A second later he set his hand on Beau's shoulder. “Come on, Beau. What's done is done.”

“We've already lost Mom and Dad, and now you're going to go risk your life across the world somewhere. What if you come back in a body bag, huh? You think about that?”

Riley rolled his eyes. “I'm not going to die, Beau.”

“You don't know that.”

“Come on, guys,” Zac said. “Let's just cool it. We'll talk about it tomorrow after it's had a chance to sink in.”

Beau stood, pacing the room. “I can't believe you did this.”

Riley sprang to his feet. “I can't believe you're reacting like this!”

“Does Paige know?”

“Why would I tell
her
?”

“Because she loves you, you numbskull!”

Riley huffed.

“I guess ten years of friendship means nothing to you. Did you think about anyone other than yourself when you did this?”

Riley stalked toward Beau. “Oh, you're one to talk.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

Riley glared at him. “Nothing! It means nothing.”

“All right, you two!” Aunt Trudy said. “No fighting in the living room.”

Zac stepped between them. “Calm down, Riley. Beau's taken care of us all his life. You know he has. He feels responsible for us.”

“What about the farm?” Beau leaned around Zac. “Your life here? You just going to leave it all behind without a second thought?”

“What life? All I do is work. Aunt Trudy has you guys, Zac has the Roadhouse, you have Paige . . .”

“You have Paige too.” Beau watched the emotions flicker over his brother's face before he turned away, palming the back of his neck.

Aunt Trudy pulled slowly to her feet, grabbing the crutches. “All right, I think I've had enough drama for tonight. I'm heading to bed.” She fixed them with a look. “You two are behaving like you're twelve, and I'm in no shape to break up a scuffle.”

Beau moved forward, his hands shaking with the news. “I'll help you.”

Aunt Trudy swatted his hand away, giving him a sour look. “I can get myself to bed. You stay here and fix this.”

Silence reigned for a full minute after she left. Riley's jaw was
set, his lips pressed together. His arms were folded over his chest. Beau imagined his brother getting wounded, or worse, not coming back at all. He didn't know if he could take another loss like that. Losing their dad had been hard enough. He swallowed past the lump in his throat.

He grabbed his coat off the rack and shoved his arms into it. “I'll be out in the barn setting up wreaths.”

“Need some help?” Zac asked.

“Nope.”

He stepped out into the night, barely feeling the cold air as it skated across his face.