He started to rise.
“I’d be happy to bring you another soda if you want to watch the race,” Teresa offered.
“Thanks, but I’d rather have coffee, anyway. You can come keep me company while I brew a pot.”
Taking the hint that he wanted to speak to her, she stood. “Sure.”
“Anybody need anything from the kitchen?” Riley asked.
Bud smiled as he looked at the little girl dozing blissfully on his knee. “I think Maggie’s okay. How about you, Mark?”
“Got any ice cream?” the boy asked hopefully.
“Mark—”
“But, Mom, he asked.”
Riley chuckled. “I imagine I have some ice cream in the freezer.”
“You and Bud are coming perilously close to spoiling my children,” Teresa said as soon as she and Riley were alone in his kitchen.
“Hey, I’m about ready to go buy them a toy store. Have you watched Bud’s face this afternoon?”
Teresa glanced in the direction of the living room. “Yes, I’ve watched him. He seems to be enjoying himself.”
“It’s the first time I’ve seen him really smile since R.L. left town. Bud’s grown very fond of your kids, Teresa.”
“They’re very fond of him, too. Bud is what they imagine a grandfather would be like.”
While the coffee brewed, Riley opened the freezer and pulled out a half gallon of ice cream. “Today has been good for him. I don’t believe he’s given a thought to R.L. or the shooting since the race started.”
“There’s been no further progress on finding out who was responsible?”
“No. Not a clue.”
“When do you think Mr. Hightower will come home?”
“Not until he feels safe, I’d imagine. But I don’t know how he can feel safe until the shooter is caught. And I don’t know how anyone can be caught until someone tells Dan who has a grudge against R.L.”
“Do you still think your uncle has suspicions about that?”
“Yes, I do. But I’ve given up on him sharing those suspicions with anyone—including me. I’ve stopped asking because it just upsets him when I bring it up.”
“Then you probably should let it rest,” Teresa agreed. “He’ll tell you when he’s ready—if he ever is.”
“Yeah. You think Maggie will want ice cream?”
“I’m sure she will. She and Mark both love ice cream.”
He pulled another dish from a cabinet. “How about you?”
“No, thanks.”
“Are you sure? It’s chocolate chip. The premium kind,” he added enticingly.
She paused, then said, “Well, maybe just a scoop.” Her kids weren’t the only ones in the family who liked ice cream.
“We might as well all have some.” He lined up five dishes on the counter, then opened the carton and picked up the scoop. “There’s a tray in the cabinet to the left of the oven if you’d like to get it out.”