“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” she said. “I want to start cooking one night a week. ”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Bear said instantly.
Sully shrugged. “I told you the other day. I could use a night off. ”
Bear looked aghast. “What the hell? It’s a conspiracy, that’s what this is. ”
“The girl can cook, and you should give her a shot,” Sully said, which for him seemed tantamount to a speech.
“If it weren’t for Sorrow’s cooking,” Laura added, “I’d have been five hundred pounds overweight when I graduated high school. ”
Sorrow caught her sister’s eye and gave a self-effacing shrug. Billy could see she was pleased and touched. Just how long had the woman been toiling in the kitchen without thanks?
Sully bristled. “Wait a minute. My food’s not that bad. ”
Laura gave a gusty sigh. “We love your cooking, Sully. You know what I mean. Sometimes a teenage girl wants soup and a salad instead of cheesy chili fries. ”
“I can cook. ” Sorrow stood tall, and Billy felt a spurt of pride. “People like my cooking, Dad. ”
Bear scowled. “So everyone tells me. ”
“Who else has told you?” she asked, sounding genuinely curious. The girl was too modest for her own good.
“Him, for one. ” Bear pointed his way.
Billy gaped. “What?” The attention flustered him, and he was at an utter loss for words. “I…”
Sorrow got the cutest perplexed smile on her face. “You told my dad I could cook?”
The way she’d asked tugged at something in his chest. He tried to formulate something cool and collected to say, but Sorrow’s father didn’t give him a chance.
Bear turned on her. “Girl, I don’t know what you fed our sheriff, but he’s been crowing about…I don’t know…bread or something. All that time in the city, maybe he forgot how to eat meat. ”
Billy laughed. “I love meat. For the record. ”
Sully added, “Sorrow does do a fine brisket, sir. Her secret is to add Coca-Cola, if you can believe that. ”
“Fine, fine. ” Her father waved impatiently. “Sorrow can cook. One night a week. Tuesdays, how about. We’ll call it Ladies’ Night. ”
“Ladies’ Night?” She rolled her eyes. “Should I feel insulted?”
Billy couldn’t help it—he couldn’t keep his hands to himself anymore. “Hey. ” He squeezed her shoulders, telling her in a quiet voice, “This is a good thing. He’s saying you can cook. ”
“You start tonight. ” Bear walked to the window and shoved aside the lace curtain. “And you better get a move on. Jack Jessup’s truck just pulled into the lot. ”
Twenty
Marlene stole a peek into the kitchen and knew a surprising wash of relief to see Sully. She didn’t know why she was being so silly. After all, the man was always there. It was only that she wanted him to talk to her grandson, Craig, of course.
For a brief second, she wondered what it was Sully did when he left the tavern, driving away on that noisy motorcycle of his. Where did he go? Was there a woman waiting for him at home?
How was it she could know positively nothing about a man she’d seen and said hello to for over two decades now?
There was some to-do in the kitchen, and she dallied, remaining standing to spy as she touched up her hair. She pulled off her scarf and cupped a hand along the bottom of her do, making sure her bob was still curling under.
It looked like the Baileys were having some sort of appliance trouble. Bear had his usual crotchety face on, though for once his girls weren’t at each other’s throats.
The door that led between kitchen and dining room swung open, and she hopped aside, letting out a little “Oh!”