Hometown Family. Mia Ross
cork pad.
“So, Matt,” she began. “How long are you planning to stay?”
The careless tone was completely fake, intended to throw him off his stride. Over the years she’d perfected it, and he’d felt himself tense up as soon as she opened her mouth.
Something nudged his boot underneath the kitchen table, and he glanced to his right to find Caty giving him the eye. She lifted her glass of orange juice and while she sipped, she shook her head just enough that he couldn’t miss it. He reminded himself they were all exhausted and more than a little on edge, trying to deal with something that had blindsided them all.
Matt wasn’t used to considering other people when he made his decisions, so this was an uncomfortable stretch for him. Hoping he looked reasonably calm and not scared to death, he looked at each of them in turn. “I haven’t decided yet. First I want y’all to tell me what you need from me.”
At a rare loss for words, his sisters traded confused looks. For the first time he could remember, he knew how they felt.
“Nothing,” John assured him. “You’ve got a life to get back to, and you should go. I’ll figure something out.”
Lisa started to protest, but he silenced her with an uncharacteristically harsh look. She glared back before stabbing a fork into her untouched breakfast. She didn’t say anything else, though. Marianne was completely silent.
Oddly enough, his family’s unwillingness to ask Matt to stay was what made up his mind.
“Okay, here’s the plan.” When he had their attention, Matt continued. “I’ll stay through the fall to get things squared away here. Make sure all the crops get in, do a total maintenance round of the equipment, stuff like that. Beginning of November, we’ll sit down again and see how things look.”
“What about your job?” Lisa asked. “And your apartment?”
“It’s only three months, so I’m not worried about the rent.” That wasn’t entirely true, but right now it was the least of his concerns. “I’ll talk to my boss and see what he can do. If he can’t hold a spot for me, I’ll find another one.”
“Jobs are hard to come by these days,” Marianne reminded him.
“Thanks for the news flash.”
His sarcasm got him a saucy look. “I just meant that if things don’t work out in Charlotte, you’ll have a job here.”
There was no way he was returning to Harland permanently. The compromise he was proposing would take him dangerously close to the edge of his limit. He’d go nuts if there was no end to his stint as a full-time farmer.
Now wasn’t the time to dig in his heels, though. They’d all have to cooperate to finish out the harvest season. “My boss knows what’s going on, but for this I want to talk to him in person. At some point, I’ll go back to Charlotte to see him and pack.”
“When?” Marianne asked.
“When I can,” Matt replied evenly. “I know flexibility isn’t your favorite thing, but if this is gonna work, you have to cut me some slack.”
“And you have to give me something to work with,” she retorted. “I can’t keep this farm and our family on track if you’re going to just do your own thing all the time.”
The rigidity rubbed him the wrong way, but she did have a point. “I’ll do my best,” he promised.
“We all will,” John added, and Lisa nodded enthusiastically.
Relieved at the fairly easy agreement they’d come to, Matt dug into his omelet. Loaded with diced ham and cheddar cheese, it was the scallions that gave away the chef. “Ruthy was here, I see.”
“She brought a huge basket of food just a little while ago,” Marianne answered. “I told her it really wasn’t necessary, but she insisted her boys couldn’t work all day without a proper breakfast.”
“I love that woman,” Lisa said around a mouthful of cranberry muffin.
“Too bad she can’t teach you to cook,” John teased. “Then maybe somebody’d wanna marry you.”
“Plenty of guys want to marry me,” she informed him haughtily. “I just don’t want to marry them.”
“Y’know, there are no knights in shining armor anymore,” he said, only half joking.
“There’s still one around somewhere,” Lisa shot back. “I’ll find him eventually.”
“Good luck, darlin’.”
“Women don’t like nicknames like that,” Matt informed him, carefully avoiding Caty’s gaze. “Makes ’em think you can’t remember their name.”
Lisa pinned him with a suspicious glare. “You do it all the time.”
“Not anymore. I’ve been reformed.”
“By who?” she demanded.
In between bites, he nodded at Caty. “She straightened me out yesterday. Imagine, all these years I’ve been doin’ it wrong.”
John laughed, and Caty sighed. “Sorry, girls. I tried.”
“Takes a brave lady to tell Matt anything,” John said, still chuckling.
“No lack of guts in this one, that’s for sure,” Matt agreed. For some reason, the conversation came to a grinding halt. They could almost hear the squeal of brakes, and Matt flashed a look around the table. “What?”
“Nothing,” Lisa replied quickly, pouring herself some more juice.
Silence seldom reigned in the Sawyer kitchen, but it settled like a weird haze over the normally lively table. Caty jumped in to fill the awkward silence. “Matt, could I ask you a huge favor?”
“Shoot.”
“Could you drop me in town so I can pick up my car and get my stuff?”
“Sure.”
He pushed back his chair to stand, but when Marianne cleared her throat he reluctantly sank back down. He knew what was coming.
“We have some tough days coming up,” she said, looking at each of them in turn. “We’re going to need every bit of strength from everyone in this family to get through them, but I think we all know that won’t be enough.”
She took Lisa’s hand on one side and Caty’s on the other. John reached out for his brother’s hand, and Matt swallowed a groan. “Marianne—”
“You don’t have to believe, but the rest of us do,” she informed him haughtily, her nose actually tilted in the air a little. “As part of this family, I’m asking you to just sit there and keep your mouth shut for thirty seconds.”
In response, Matt folded his hands and rested them on the table in front of him. The others bowed their heads, and he forced himself to stay in his seat. He hated this kind of thing, but out of respect for them he kept quiet. If they needed this, he wouldn’t ruin it for them by reminding them that God had very selective hearing.
“Lord,” Marianne began, “please bless our family with the patience and courage we’ll need to weather this storm. Guide us with Your wisdom and help us do what’s best for all of us. And please,” she added in a quivering voice, “tell our parents we love them.”
As John and Lisa added their own sentiments, a small hand settled over his and gave a little squeeze. Caty hadn’t lifted her head, but he appreciated the kind gesture. Her hand was a distinct contrast to his own. Dainty and polished, it looked vulnerable next to his much larger one.
Then again, he’d learned there was nothing vulnerable about Caty McKenzie. In her own way, she was just as tough as he was. She didn’t back down when she probably should,