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“In layman’s terms, it means it melted.”
He let out a laugh. “Poor Max. Why was that particular Lego his favorite?”
“I’m not sure. He just kept saying ‘but that was a blue one’.”
“Gotcha,” he said, making a mental note to search Amazon to try to find Max some new blue Legos. “But the cookies all got finished, and your idea to make bone-shaped biscuits for the dogs at the festival was pure genius. Every dog lover is going to vote for your chili on principal alone. And who knows, maybe adding that sugar will be the winning ingredient that puts you in first place.”
“Do you understand how chemistry works at all? You can’t just sub out sucrose for sodium chloride and think you’ll get the same result.”
“I don’t know,” he said, continuing to load the truck. “Sweet and salty is a thing. Maybe a stressed-out night in the kitchen and an accidental ingredient swap is how kettle corn was invented.”
She laughed. “You’re a dork.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “But at least I made you laugh.”
“Just like you always do.”
The sound of her laughter, especially when he was the one responsible for it, was the best thing in the world. And something he’d missed. He still couldn’t believe that Leni Gibbs was back in his life. That he was able to kiss her and hold her hand and hell, just the fact that they were texting and talking on the phone again was incredible.
“Hey, I gotta go,” he told her. “I’ve got to finish packing the truck up, and then Murph and I are heading your way. Gramps and Dodge already left for the fairgrounds, and Ford and Elizabeth are planning to meet us there. Try to get everything into the driveway, and I should be there within fifteen minutes.”
“We’ll be ready.”
“See you soon. And try not to worry.” He heard her laugh again as he hung up the phone and shoved it into his pocket.
A white pickup came down the driveway and pulled up next to him as he was tying down the rest of the supplies for the festival.
He noted the dead bugs dotting the windshield and the Texas plates. This had to be the guy Gramps had told them about. The one Bucky Ferguson said his son was sending.
A tall, dark-haired guy in jeans and a straw cowboy hat got out of the truck and ambled toward him. His square-toed boots had the dust and wear of ones that had truly been worked in,and he had a multi-tool attached to the side of his leather belt. He wore a champion buckle, but nothing too big or flashy. He looked to be about Dodge’s age, but the scruff of his beard might be making him look older.
“You the guy from Texas?” Chevy asked, pulling on a knot.
The cowboy frowned then nodded slowly. “Yeah, I just drove up from the Panhandle.”
“Great. We heard you were comin’.”
The guy scratched the back of his neck. “You did?”
“Yeah, and your timing couldn’t be better.” He walked around the bed of the truck and tossed the end of another rope back to the guy. “Tie that down, would you? I know you’re here to work on the ranch, but we’ve got a big deal happening at the fairgrounds today, and we could use all the hands we can get. You up for it?”
The guy shrugged as he secured the rope and tied a slip knot in the end of it. “Yeah, sure, I guess.”
“Great. I need to grab something out of the barn. Throw your gear in the house, and we’ll get you settled later. The heads down the hall to the left if you need it.”
“Okay.”
The guy had a bit of a ‘deer in the headlights’ look to him as he pulled a leather duffle from the cab of his rig and headed toward the house, but Chevy didn’t have time to dick around with directions and handholding. He was already running late, so not only would Gramps have his hide, but he knew Leni would be stressing too.
“Grab us a couple of bottles of water from the fridge on your way out,” he called as he hurried toward the barn. Part of him wondered if he’d just made a colossal mistake sending some strange guy into the house, but Gramps had known Bucky Ferguson for years, and if Bucky vouched for the guy, Chevy doubted he’d steal their television and drive away. And so whatif he did? A stolen tv was the least of his worries this morning. Besides, he and Dodge had been wanting a new flat screen anyway.
When he came out of the barn a few minutes later, the new guy was standing by Chevy’s truck, two bottles of water clutched in his hands. “You good with dogs?” he asked, then told him to get in after he nodded.
The guy climbed in as Chevy whistled for Murphy and held the door for the golden to jump into the back of the king cab. “What’s your name?” he finally thought to ask as he put the truck in gear and barreled down the drive and out onto the highway.
“Mack.”
“Good to meet you, Mack. I’m Chevy. Not sure what you’ve heard about the Lassiter boys, but I’ll get it out of the way now. Yes, it’s true, our mother named me and my brother’s, Ford and Dodge, after the trucks that our different deadbeat dads drove away from us in. She was a real peace of work, that one. Then she dumped us on the doorstep of our grandparents when Dodge was barely able to walk, and we haven’t seen her since. But she actually did us a favor, because Duke and June Lassiter were the best things that ever happened to us. Our grandma’s gone now, but you’ll meet Duke at the fairgrounds. That’s our story. But maybe you’d already heard all that.” He wasn’t sure what Bucky, or his son, had told the guy. “So, what’s yours?”
