The All You Can Dream Buffet (15 page)

AVOCADO AND WATERMELON SALAD

Serves 4–6

Dressing

Mix together and let stand at least one hour.

Salad

Toss all the bits together; serve with a garnish of basil or mint leaves. Feast!

After two full days of cooking with Lavender, Ruby was wiped out. Her arms were tired and her back ached slightly, and, of course, her belly swished and swashed, making her feel vaguely ill.

She needed a nap.

The kitten slept on her head, purring. Ruby closed her eyes and let that sound of richest contentment rumble through the casing of her skull. It lulled her to sleep.

She dreamed she was in a room with an IV drip attached to her arm; she could hear a beeping somewhere and the watery sound of the PA system. She knew it well, this room, with its falsely cheery sheets and the monster in the corner. In her dream, she scowled at it, a dragon-looking being with slanted pupils in red eyes, and the fire of pain licked at her feet, her joints, her hands. As she stared, the monster began to lumber toward her, breath fetid and dead with the children it had already consumed.
No!
she cried in the dream.

The force of the cry shook her back into her bed. Her cozy, soft bed in her camper, full of colors you never saw in a hospital—gold and silver and copper and rose, patterns swirling over everything. Extravagant, comforting.

The kitten made a tiny mewing noise as Ruby stretched, the cat’s heart beating with fragile teeniness into Ruby’s ear. Peaceful.

Ruby turned her face to nuzzle the kitten, letting the nightmare go. It was an old one, a dream she’d had a thousand times as a child, the monster creeping forward to steal her away.

No surprise that she was having the chemo dreams. All this throwing up was quite reminiscent of those days. At least she wasn’t miserably nauseous all day every day, for weeks on end.

The kitten roused herself suddenly, jumping off the bed to go to the door of the camper. Ruby had found a harness in town, and she rolled off the bed, attached the leash, and opened the door.

The kitten rushed for a butterfly lifting up from a wildflower, flipping madly to grab the beautiful creature right out of the air. Her body was as graceful as the wind, her claws extended, paws wide, and she flew back to earth with her prize.

“No!” Ruby cried. But it was too late. The kitten swaggered along the grass, so plainly strutting that it seemed evil and funny at the same time.

“Dang it,” Ruby said under her breath.

“What in the name of Zeus are you doing?” Noah said.

He’d come up the path from the distillery, carrying a shovel and a rake in gloved hands. His hair was covered with a hat, and his worn shirt had rolled-up long sleeves.

“This kitten showed up the other night. A coyote was chasing her.”

“So you’re going to keep her on a leash, are you?”

“Why not?”

“Have you ever met a cat, of any kind, anywhere?”

“Of course I have.” The kitten dropped the butterfly. It fell on the ground, dead, and the kitten poked it with a white-tipped paw. It fluttered slightly, and she pounced again, hard. Part of a wing broke off. Ruby felt slightly nauseous. “I can’t
keep watching this.” She made a move to take the butterfly away, but Noah grabbed her arm.

“This is what cats do. They hunt. They kill things. Sometimes they eat them, but sometimes they just torture them. They like to race around and leap high and swish through the grass, like little Ninja Girl here.”

“Little Ninja Girl,” Ruby said, laughing. It suited her, with her sleek black body. “How old do you think she is?”

“I know exactly—eight months. She was born in the barn. Her daddy is a big feral guy who paces the woods like a panther.”

Ruby realized this was as much as Noah had ever spoken to her, and, curious, she tossed out another question. “Is the daddy a black cat, too?”

“No,” he said, and his eyes scanned the woods as if the tom might appear. “He’s a dark-gray tabby, with one notched ear. I’ve seen him take down squirrels like they’re moths.”

“Wow.” The kitten tired of trying to revive the butterfly and rustled through the grass. Only her tail and the leash, trailing out, were visible.

“Let her off the leash, Ruby. That’s not how cats live.”

“But what if something happens to her?”

He looked at her. “Things happen to people and animals all the time, but you can’t force her to live a life that isn’t natural to her.”

Ruby thought of the darkness, the kitten dashing toward her, and the coyote’s eyes glowing. “This kitten came to me,” she said, “specifically me, in the middle of the night, and my code of honor says I am going to protect her.”

“Fair enough.”

He started to turn away, but Ruby asked, “Don’t the feral cats eat the chickens?”

“They do,” he said, pausing. “You can always tell a cat’s been at the chickens by the parts they eat—the breast and thighs.”

Ruby laughed. “Kentucky Fried Chicken.”

“Right. Other animals leave different calling cards.” He tugged off his gloves and tucked them into his back pocket, pulled off the hat, and wiped his sweaty forehead. “Skunks like the head and stomach. Coyotes leave no trace.” He warmed to his subject, eyes glinting. “Raccoons, though, are the worst. They stick their hands through the slats in the cages, and when a chicken comes close to see what it is, they grab the chicken by the throat and yank it right out of the cage.” He used his hand to illustrate. “Then they take it down to the river to wash it.”

“Ugh,” Ruby said, feeling her belly roil. The urge to puke was vivid and urgent. She raised a finger, dashed to the edge of the meadow, and barfed. Instantly, her belly felt better. “Sorry,” she said as she returned, wiping her mouth.

Noah stood with his arms crossed. His waist was narrow, his forearms corded with powerful muscle, and his hair gleamed in the sun. For the first time in about a hundred years, she thought about what a man other than Liam might look like naked, or at least shirtless.

He raised an eyebrow. “Pretty delicate, aren’t you?”

She waved a hand. “It’s not that. Just pregnant.”

“Ah. That explains a lot.”

She gave him a frown. “Like what?”

He grinned, and it was the first time she’d seen him smile. It wasn’t that it was dazzling but the opposite—it was crooked, offsetting the intimidating perfection of his face. A blast of pure female hormonal appreciation rushed right through her middle.

“Just things,” he said.

Seriously?
she thought. This was what Lavender talked about, that he was so beautiful that women constantly threw themselves at him, then got mad when he didn’t see them or acted aloof.

The kitten, weary of butterflies, came ambling out of the grass and rubbed against Ruby’s legs. She scooped her up and the kitten butted against her chin. “There’s my sweetheart,” Ruby cooed. “I bet you want more tuna fish, don’t you?”

“You gave her tuna? Aren’t you vegan?”

“Cats aren’t vegan, silly. They’ll die if they don’t get protein.”

He laughed softly. “Good to know.”

“Will you take a picture of me and the Ninja Girl?” Ruby pulled her phone out of her back pocket and passed it over, posing for the camera by holding the cat up to her face.

He held the phone sideways, stepped forward, and clicked, then waited for it to come up. He looked at it for a minute, then frowned. “Let me try again.” Ruby smiled, kissing the kitten, who only endured it. This time, Noah gave a nod. “Good one.” He passed the phone back. “For your blog? Your boyfriend?”

“More boring than that: my dad. He worries.” Holding the cat easily on her shoulder, she messaged the picture to her father.
Me & Ninja Girl at the farm. Pretty, huh?

“That’s what dads do, I guess.”

A truck rumbled into the driveway in front of the shop, pulling a shiny retro Airstream. “Ginny!” Ruby squealed. She put the cat down, then dithered about whether to put her in the trailer. The kitten had settled down to lick a paw, and Ruby picked her up, kissed her hot, shiny side, and put her in the camper. “I’ll be back, sweetie.”

She glanced at Noah, but he didn’t say anything, only gave her that unreadable gaze. Ruby turned and dashed down the hill, feeling a stitch in her side almost immediately. She slowed
to a walk. The truck pulled around the circle, the navigation excellent and practiced.

It was only as she grew closer that she realized that this Airstream was not a little Bambi but a solid, tour-the-world size, with two doors and a lot of windows. Ginny had worried about the towing capacity of her Jeep, which was not this big red Ford truck that looked as if it could haul twice again as much. The angle of light made it impossible to see into the truck, even when Ruby shaded her eyes.

Lavender came from the direction of the cottage, her hands still gloved in green cotton. She carried a spade and lifted it to shield her eyes. “That can’t be Ginny.”

Ruby shook her head, conscious of Noah joining them, too. They all waited as the truck doors opened and a very tall, long-legged girl leapt to the ground. Her dark hair was braided away from her face and high cheekbones, and the braids were wrapped with leather. Her arms were circled with beaded bracelets and she wore moccasins on her feet, but, even so, Ruby didn’t put it together until a woman came around the truck. She was as petite as the girl was tall, her skin much, much darker, the glossy color of pecans. She moved with the effortless elegance of the prima ballerina she’d once been. “Surprise!” she cried. “We decided to make it after all.”

“Valerie!” Ruby exclaimed, and looked back to the girl, who was nearly unrecognizable in her Native American guise. “Hannah. I didn’t recognize you.”

The girl gave a nod beneath hooded eyes, but Ruby saw the exact instant she laid eyes on Noah. Her nostrils flared, she cocked her chin sideways to hide her gaze, and she tossed her head. “Hi,” she said with enormous ennui.

Ruby glanced at Valerie with one eyebrow raised. Valerie gave
a subtle roll of her eyes—
I told you, guys!
—and said, “Give me a hug, beautiful girl. And tell me how you are.”

They all hugged and kissed, and Valerie stood back. “Where’s Ginny? I thought she’d be here by now.”

“Not until Friday.”

Ruby felt an inexplicable wave of worry wash over her, a wave that ended up—of course—in her belly. And of course she had to barf. She dashed over and puked in the weeds. She was also sick of that part—the way it came on so fiercely. “Damn it!” she cried, wiping her mouth. “I’m so tired of throwing up!”

“Are you sick?” Valerie asked with alarm.

“No,” Lavender said, looping a gentle arm around Ruby’s shoulders. “Let’s head inside and get some food for some lunch, shall we? We’ll tell you everything.” With a gentle nudge, she set Ruby free in the direction of the cottage and gathered Hannah under her long arm. The girl was nearly as tall as she was.

“Very glad to see you. I can’t wait to hear about your travels through the reservations.”

“Nations,” Hannah said, easing away to walk ahead of them.

Valerie sighed. Under her breath she said, “It’s been a long trip.”

“Never mind,” Lavender said. “You’re here now. And we are thrilled.”

Noah hauled the table and chairs out to a flat grassy spot dotted with tiny daisies. A big willow tree stretched its arms over the cottage and yard, and a circle of daisies bloomed at the foot of it.

Valerie and Lavender sliced cucumbers and pickles and tomatoes, arranged plates with turkey and hard-boiled eggs,
hummus and celery and fresh red peppers. Hannah was forced into service, her feet in the soft leather shoes slapping against the wooden floors to underscore her huffy protestations. Ruby made a watermelon and avocado salad from the produce they’d picked up in McMinnville, and when Hannah raised an eyebrow in disgust, Ruby said, “You’ll see. It’s great.”

Ruby found herself watching the girl. Whenever Noah came into the room, Hannah straightened almost haughtily, showing off a profile as sharp and clean as the face on a coin. Endearingly, she kept her slim shoulders hunched over a bustline that was much too large for her size. Ruby remembered those days, the sudden, inexplicable stares, the sometimes flattering, sometimes dismaying attention.

Once they were all settled around the table outside, Valerie said, “So you are not sick, Ruby? It’s not chemo throwing up?”

“Oh, my God! No!” Ruby said. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you might jump to that conclusion. I’m just pregnant.”

Valerie raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Confirmed. Due October second.” She leaned back to put her hands on the round of belly, thinking it seemed bigger than it did yesterday. With some satisfaction, she said, “I’m afraid I’m going to get as big as a house.”