Burying Water (Burying Water #1)(83)

“Hello, Ginny,” Meredith’s smooth voice calls out.

“I thought you were working all night. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Ginny answers.

“Soon.” I turn in time to see Meredith step into the barn, the circles under her eyes darker than usual. “I just had an . . . unusually difficult shift. I need to decompress a bit. Hello, Water. I hope you had a good night’s sleep.”

“I did.” I feel my cheeks heat again.

“Good.” She nods, a secretive smile on her thin lips. “I was thinking that the two of you should come over for dinner tonight.”

“What for?” Ginny honestly looks perplexed.

Meredith shrugs. “To eat. To talk. To spend time together. I thought it’d be fun. I mean, I’m not the best cook, but I . . .”

“You’re right. You’re not.” Ginny’s head shakes with force. “No, I don’t think that’ll work. Felix is old and blind and won’t know where I am.”

“So bring him along.”

“I like Water’s cooking.”

“Yes, I hear she’s a good cook. Maybe she can help me.” Meredith winks at me. “Gabe really appreciated the dinner last night.”

“That’s right. The lasagna. It needs to be eaten tonight and there’s not enough for everyone. ” Now Ginny’s just lobbing over excuses at Meredith.

“Actually, we’re saving that for tomorrow because I won’t have time to cook. I’m going to the rodeo, remember?” I pipe up.

Ginny glares at me. I sympathize with her; I really do. But she’s only alienating herself. Before I got here, the woman had dinner conversations with a dog. For years. Every single night. How does someone not go insane without human companionship?

I shoot a responding glare back at her, if only to keep the grin from my face—that would irritate her more—as I say, “We’d love to come, Meredith. What can we bring?”

“Just yourselves. And Felix, I guess. I’m sending Amber out later for groceries. Jesse said he’ll be home by six.” With a knowing glance my way, she says, “I’m going to catch some sleep now, so I don’t cut my hands off with a kitchen knife tonight. I’m excited. It’s been a while since we had a family meal.”

A family meal.

Because that’s what we all are. A family.

Meredith leaves as quickly as she came. Ginny doesn’t utter a single word in the five minutes it takes me to finish up with the stall. “I need to get a shower before work,” I say, propping the rake against the wall. “So, I’ll come get you when I’m back. We can head over together?” I stroll past Ginny, feeling her sharp glare skewering my back.

“Have I ever told you about the time Meredith cooked dinner and gave everyone food poisoning?”

I stop. “Is that really true, Ginny?”

She pushes the broom across the floor, muttering, “It will be after tonight.”

The pent-up excitement that’s been building inside me all day, that began heating my body when I heard the Barracuda pass by the house on its way to the garage, finally bursts as Jesse steps into the Welleses’ kitchen.

“I thought we’d have dinner together since we’re all home tonight,” Meredith announces, standing next to me, chopping the last of the parsley while I stir the pot.

My heart flutters as his dark eyes settle on me. “And Water’s making it?”

“I think that’s for the best, don’t you?” Ginny mutters from the corner, where she’s stitching her latest quilt.

Amber and Sheriff Gabe both snort.

“That was one time, Ginny!” Meredith exclaims with exasperation. “And it was the salmon, not my cooking. And you weren’t even here!”

Amber and I share a secret look and smile. I got a text from her around one o’clock, presumably when she woke up, begging me to come by early to cook because Meredith decided that making paella for dinner would be “adventurous.” Apparently, Ginny’s comment on food poisoning wasn’t so far-fetched after all. The last time Meredith felt “adventurous” with a casual dinner for friends, two people ended up in her hospital with food poisoning.

“We know.” Sheriff Gabe comes up behind to place a kiss on his wife’s cheek, a rare sign of affection that’s heartwarming to see. Then he leans over and mock-whispers to me, “We’re so glad you’re cooking tonight, Water.”

Laughter fills the Welleses’ kitchen. I realize that it’s the first time I’ve seen them all together, ever.

“Could you set the table, darling?” Meredith says to Jesse.

He rounds the counter to squeeze her shoulder. “Sure, Mom.” On his way to the sink, I feel his hand graze my back. It’s so quick, I write it off as an accident.

“I can’t remember the last time we set this table,” Sheriff Gabe says, helping his son by placing the cutlery.

“It sure looks different.” Ginny’s eyes finally lift to scan the kitchen—a fusion of modern and country, with stainless-steel appliances and smooth granite countertops mixed in with plenty of wood grain and bull horns mounted on the wall. “I haven’t been here since your daddy died.” She purses her lips together. “He was a good man.”