Hungry Heart: Konigsburg, Texas, Book 8 (25 page)

He didn’t think he’d ever felt so relaxed before in his life. He could definitely get used to this.

Chapter Seventeen

Darcy stood at the picnic table outside Harris’s trailer where she’d done most of her prep work for this Sunday’s barbecue tasting. The kitchen in the trailer was way too small for any efficient cooking, and Harris’s kitchen building was completely given over to meat. Chico was keeping his pork roasts in Harris’s freezer, along with jars of his rub, carefully labeled so that Harris wouldn’t use them mistakenly for his brisket.

Not that that was likely to happen, but they were both becoming a little obsessive about the whole barbecue competition thing. Over the past two weeks they’d gone through at least four or five different variations of their respective rubs, with kibitzing from Joe, Clem, various home-grown barbecue experts and Darcy herself.

A couple of kids ran by, pursued by Porky, who was yipping in ecstasy. The pup enjoyed the damn Sunday barbecues more than the people did.

The kids belonged to one of their new sponsors, an accountant named Toleffson who did Andy’s taxes. Andy had managed to rope him in for the first Sunday barbecue, and he’d brought along his brother, the County Attorney, this week. They were also both about as tall as Chico and almost as handsome as Harris.

Not that Darcy was much interested in handsome men these days. She had enough on her plate as it was.

Initially, she’d hated giving up her Sunday afternoons, one of the few days she didn’t have to worry about cooking. But the feedback they got from their new supporters last week had turned out to be invaluable. Clem had even given her some potato salad variations that wouldn’t send Harris into a ten-minute dissertation on the evils of Dijon mustard.

Darcy wasn’t sure how they’d ended up at Harris’s place. Maybe it was because the temperatures in the hills were slightly cooler than they were in town. Maybe it was because fewer people dropped by unexpectedly. Or maybe it just happened and Harris didn’t care. That sounded most likely to her.

The guests had brought their own lawn chairs and a couple of folding tables. Somehow beer had magically appeared as well. And all in all, Darcy was a happy woman. There were worse things than sitting in the shade of the pecan and cypress trees and listening to a mockingbird do its thing as people passed around platters of down-home cooking and Harris gave her one of his seductive grins. Not that she was going to be seduced into sticking around the place, no matter how comfortable it was.

She had a future and it wasn’t here. Although her tone wasn’t quite as firm when she said that now as it had been a few weeks ago. And she still hadn’t gotten around to doing that quick check for new job openings.

Chef de cuisine
, Darcy. That’s where it’s at.
Right.

She stayed over at the trailer most nights, unless one or the other of them had a complicated morning coming up. But she was just going keep sleeping over until the cook-off was done. After all, she was part of the team. She had responsibilities. Once the competition finished she could go back to sleeping alone in her apartment in town. No problem.

Keep working on that, Darcy. Maybe you’ll sound a little more believable soon.

She took a quick survey of today’s guests. Along with the Toleffsons, Joe and Clem, the others were mostly familiar—MG, Tom Ames and his wife, Clem’s partner Lucinda, who cooked a mean pan of cornbread, and a few miscellaneous cooks from the Rose. Andy was there too, of course, cooking beans and jalapeno poppers that made Darcy’s eyes water.

And watching Chico, like she was doing now. She did that a lot.

Darcy wondered if Andy ever worried about what would happen when the cook-off ended. Given the way Chico looked at her, she probably didn’t need to.

Darcy wondered about it, though. More than she should.

She gazed up the hill toward the lean-to. Harris and Chico were both at the smokers, trying another set of variations on beef and pork, along with some chicken and sausage for variety. The sound of a motor made her turn toward the river in time to see an unfamiliar SUV jouncing down the hill toward the bridge just as she’d put the finishing touches on her latest slaw incarnation. It wasn’t anybody she recognized, but then most of the people she recognized were already here, drinking beer and eating Andy’s jalapeno poppers as if they were candy.

“Hey, Harris,” she called, “you’ve got company.”

He peered around the side of the shelter, frowning, then stepped out where he could see better.

Darcy turned back to watch a man and a woman climb out of the front seat. The man looked a lot like the Toleffson brothers—very tall, dark and broad-shouldered. Only he had a beard and slightly longer hair than they did. He leaned into the backseat and emerged with a child who looked to be around five. It took her a moment to realize he was actually a lot younger. Apparently, a Paul Bunyan father ended up with a Paul Bunyan baby.

The woman was almost more remarkable than the man. Darcy put her height at somewhere around six feet. Her hair was flaming orange and she wore it pulled up in a topknot that looked like it might come streaming down at any moment. Her shirt was tied underneath some truly remarkable breasts and her cut-off jean shorts revealed legs that seemed to go on forever. She made Darcy feel inadequate just by occupying the same general air space.

She was also oddly familiar, but it took Darcy a minute to remember her. Barbarella. From the barbecue where Darcy had first formed the idea of apprenticing with Harris.

Harris was down the hillside in a few strides, embracing Barbarella enthusiastically. Paul Bunyan regarded them with a raised eyebrow, but no sign of jealousy that Darcy could see.

“Harris.” Barbarella threw her head back laughing. “Look at you. Look at this place.”

Harris?
Darcy blinked. Barbarella had just entered a new and much more interesting category. So far Darcy was the only one who didn’t call Harris the King.

“Darcy.” Harris motioned her to his side. “This is my cousin, Docia Kent. Darcy’s the sous chef at the Rose and she’s on the barbecue team.”

And I’m your Significant Other. At least at the moment.
But maybe that was obvious by the way he pulled her close.

Docia shook her hand, still smiling. “Glad to meet you. And it’s Docia Kent Toleffson. That’s my hubs.” She nodded toward Paul Bunyan. “Cal Toleffson. Lars and Pete have been talking about these Sunday barbecues for days. We thought we’d come out and see. Plus prove to them that the Barbecue King is actually my cousin Harris. Of course, cousin Deirdre has already backed me up on that.”

“Deirdre?” Darcy felt a little dizzy. She turned to Harris. “Deirdre’s your cousin?”

He shook his head, grinning. “No, Deirdre is Docia’s cousin. And I’m Docia’s cousin. But Deirdre and I are not cousins.”

Docia chuckled. “Don’t make it any more confusing than it already is. Deirdre is my cousin on my mama’s side. Harris’s mama is my daddy’s sister.”

“Okay,” Darcy said faintly.

“Rolf wants to go for a run.” Cal, aka Paul Bunyan, held the giggling toddler in front of him. “Anything hazardous beyond the obvious?”

Harris shrugged. “There are some hot smokers on the slab over there where Chico’s working, but not much besides that. And the snakes, cactus and river, of course.”

Cal nodded, giving him a dry smile. “Of course. This being Texas.” He set the child on his feet, then watched him teeter forward, straight for the smokers and Chico. “Right. I guess that was inevitable.” He grabbed his son’s hand, turning him in another direction and then followed him toward some cedar.

Docia shook her head. “He’ll calm down when he finds Daisy and Jack.”

Darcy tried not to look confused. She probably should know who Daisy and Jack were anyway.

“Lars’s kids,” Docia explained. “His cousins.”

Cousins.
Was this Texas or Appalachia?

“Tell him to listen for the dog. The last I saw he was chasing a couple of kids.”

Cal and his son turned toward noises that sounded like Porky’s yips. Darcy figured they’d have a burned-out puppy on their hands by late afternoon.

“Anyway…” Docia turned back to Harris. “How’s Aunt Mel?”

His face seemed to close. The grin stayed in place, but his eyes were suddenly opaque. “I wouldn’t know. Haven’t talked to her in a year or so. Ask Gray the next time you see him.”

Docia frowned, but someone called her name from across the meadow, one of the gorgeous wives of the gorgeous Toleffsons.

“I better go see Janie.” Docia turned back to Harris, briefly. “We’ll talk.”

He nodded. “Sure we will.” Darcy couldn’t tell how happy he was about that possibility.

Docia turned and then paused as Chico and Andy came down from the lean-to.

Chico rubbed his hands with a paper towel. “I need to get Andy’s beans up onto the smoker to warm. Looks like your brisket’s about ready to come off.”

Andy smiled up at him. “I tried using Modelo Negro in the beans this time,” she explained. “It’s a little smokier. See what you think.”

“Are you entering beans and slaw too?” Docia raised an eyebrow at Darcy’s plastic container on the picnic table.

Darcy shook her head. “The contest is just for meat, but people visit the team booths during the day and buy plates. We’re going to have slaw, potato salad and beans.”

“And dessert,” Andy added.

Darcy narrowed her eyes. As a former pastry chef, she found this a touchy subject.

Andy grinned. “It doesn’t have to be sublime, Darce. Cobbler is fine.”

“Not yet it isn’t. I’m still perfecting it. I brought some along for y’all to try.”

Andy sighed. “I’m going to put on ten pounds by the time this contest is over. At least we’re not doing bread.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “We are doing bread. It’s just not what I call bread.”

“Sandwich bread is a tradition, Darcy.” Chico placed a hotel pan full of Andy’s potato salad on the table. “It’s not worth the hassle of baking anything special. People won’t eat it.”

“Some traditions are meant to be done away with,” Darcy muttered.

All of them ignored her.

More people arrived as the afternoon wore on. Harris and Chico pulled the meat off the fire around two, observed closely by three small children and two large fathers. The platters of beef and pork were placed on the serving table next to Darcy’s slaw and Andy’s beans and potato salad. Darcy knew she should be grateful for that potato salad since it was one less thing to worry about, but she found herself regarding it critically, trying to come up with things about it that weren’t as good as hers. Unfortunately, there weren’t many.

Andy grinned. “You can do the potato salad if you want. I’ve got no ego involvement here, believe me.”

Darcy sighed. “It really makes more sense for you to do it if I’m doing cobbler. That way we’ll break it down into two sides each.”

“Which we should probably figure out a schedule for making. We’ve only got two more weeks until the Fourth.”

Darcy gritted her teeth. “Well, crap. How much should we make?”

Andy frowned, thinking. “I’d say a minimum of two hundred servings, and that’s conservative. My guess is they’ll get a couple thousand paying customers at this thing. But they’ve got over a hundred entries—the crowds can go get food from the other people after we run out. And running out might make us look popular.”

“Please god.” Darcy rubbed her tight shoulders. “Can you handle serving all this while I grab some food?”

“Sure. I’ll eat with Chico later.”

Darcy glanced toward where Chico and Harris were dissecting their latest efforts with Joe and Clem. She figured they’d spend at least another ten or fifteen minutes on the rubs alone. One of the Toleffsons stood at the side, his arms folded across his chest, ready to add his opinion. When it came to barbecue, everybody got their say.

She filled a plate of food for herself and headed off for the bench under the cypress tree. It was only when she got close that she realized Docia Toleffson was sitting there with her sleeping son propped on her shoulder.

“Sorry,” Darcy murmured. “I’ll go somewhere else.”

Docia shook her head. “It’s okay. He’s like Cal—once he’s out, he’s out.” She scooted over slightly on the bench. “Sit down and have your lunch. You’ve been on your feet since I got here.”

Darcy sank down on the bench, grateful to be sedentary for a while. She dug her fork into Andy’s potato salad, which really was an excellent version even if she hated to admit it.

“So how long have you and Harris been together?” Docia gave her a bland smile.

Darcy thought about saying they weren’t together, but that wasn’t exactly the truth and she didn’t feel like dancing around. “About a month. A little more maybe.”

Docia smiled again, staring down at the river as she shifted her baby slightly. “I didn’t even know he was here until I saw him at one of those chuck wagon things at the Rose. I don’t think he told anybody in the family what he was doing.”

Darcy took another bite, wondering just how far she could go in questioning Docia without violating Harris’s privacy. “I get the impression that there are some…sore points between him and his folks. About him being the Barbecue King instead of the Lawyer King.” She gave Docia a quick smile.
Yeah, I know about him. Sort of.