“Me too,” said Wesley.
“Me too,” echoed Alora.
He turned expectant eyes toward Kaevin. “Would you like one as well?”
“Thank you, sir. I would be grateful.”
He returned with four cans of Coca-Cola, setting them down in front of each of the four and popping the tops. “I’ll even open them for you, seeing as how it might be difficult with only one hand.” He sported a benevolent smile.
Kaevin observed as the other three drank a swallow from the bright red cans. He lifted the can to his lips and poured some into his mouth, only to send it spewing out across the table.
“Oh! I think there might be something wrong with mine. It tasted strange. I’m so sorry.” He used his napkin to try to wipe up the Coke from the rugged wooden tabletop.
“That’s okay, Kaevin. No harm done.” Charles narrowed his eyes as Beth giggled behind the napkin she pressed to her mouth and Wesley tried desperately to keep a straight face. Alora squeezed Kaevin’s hand under the table, hoping to keep him calm.
“So... Kaevin,” her uncle said, after Kaevin had returned to wrestling with the slippery spaghetti noodles. “That’s an interesting outfit you have on. Is that leather?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh,” interrupted Beth, “did we forget to tell you Kaevin is in the school play? He’s one of Robin Hood’s merry men. They had a dress rehearsal today.”
“I see,” said Charles. “Your costume is quite impressive.”
“My mom helped make the costumes,” said Beth. “She’s a great seamstress, isn’t she?”
“Yes.” Charles drummed his fingers on the table in some random pattern. “Yes, indeed.” He turned his attention back to his plate, while the four young people ate in silence.
“So... Kaevin, where did you live before you came to Montana?” he asked.
“I’m from Laegenshire, sir.”
“I’m not familiar with that town.”
“It’s in Scotland,” Beth answered quickly.
“Ahhh. So you moved here from Scotland. And your father is a... truck driver?”
“Kaevin’s mom recently remarried. That’s why they left Scotland,” Beth explained.
“I see.” Charles studied Kaevin, who kept his eyes glued to his plate of spaghetti.
“What kind of horse do you have, Kaevin?”
“He’s magnificent! He’s a solid black Gladenbrook, over fifteen hands high. Very spirited!” Kaevin beamed with excitement. Alora squeezed his hand, trying to signal him not to say too much, but it was too late.
“Ahhh. Gladenbrook? I’m not familiar with that breed.”
“I think that’s a new breed out of Scotland. I remember reading something about it in the last Equestrian Magazine,” said Beth.
“Oh well, Beth. You would know,” said Charles. “Great horsewoman that you are.”
Alora flashed a tiny smile at Beth. I can always count on her to come up with a story to get us out of trouble. She’s done it ever since we met.
“So you have a gift with horses?” Kaevin asked Beth. “That’s wonderful—we could ride together sometime.”
“I can ride, too,” said Alora with a slight pout, somehow not pleased with the idea of Beth and Kaevin riding without her.
Kaevin turned woeful eyes in her direction. “Of course, I would want you to be there as well. I have no desire to do anything without you anymore.”