Midnight Faith. Gena Dalton
to what must be his regular seat at the end of the long oak table.
“Let’s hold hands and say the blessing.”
They did. Cait had never heard that blessing. She didn’t know the words.
Then Bobbie Ann began filling the brightly colored bowls with chili, one by one they passed them around the table, and everyone started talking at once. Faylene served the tamales from the pottery platter; they all passed around the huge salad and the salsas and quesos, chips, corn bread, tortillas, red, yellow and blue corn and flour ones, too, pico de gallo and guacamole.
Cait concentrated on the beautiful sight of the table and its bountiful, colorful food. She tried to fix her mind on what Faylene was telling her.
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