Читать книгу Texas Miracle - Gwen Ford Faulkenberry - Страница 13

CHAPTER FOUR

JACQUELINE ORDERED CHICKEN tikka masala for both of them with extra naan bread. Mac thanked the server for the ice water. She smiled to herself as he squirmed in his seat, fiddling with the tray of sauces when it was brought. He was obviously out of his element.

“I kind of like this arrangement.” Jacqueline smiled slyly.

“Dinner at a gas station?”

“Well, yes. I love a good dive. But what I meant was being in charge—knowing about something you don’t.”

Mac peered at her over his glasses. “Oh. I see. That’s how it is.”

“It’s a nice change from the office.”

“I’m sure you know more about a lot of things than I do about the world outside my office.” He bit into the naan bread. “I tend to be a little bit of a hermit. At least, that’s what my brothers say.”

Jacqueline saw something in his eyes and heard it in his voice. But what was it, exactly? Regret? Resolve? Resignation?

She traced circles on the surface of her water with a straw. “I know a little bit about a lot of things, but I don’t know anything as deeply as you know your world.” She met his intense gaze. “And I’m afraid I’m the same way with people.”

“What do you mean?” Mac leaned forward.

“It’s the way I was raised. We were gypsies—nomads—never stayed in one place long. My parents both make friends easily, but I’m not like that. By the time I started to feel comfortable with my surroundings and got to know anyone, it was time to move.”

Mac’s startled expression showed his horror. “I cannot imagine that. Honestly, I never would have survived.”

Jacqueline shrugged. She felt a little defensive, though she couldn’t tell why. “Well, it has its perks. I’ve seen a lot of places, met a lot of different kinds of people. You’d survive if it was all you’d ever known.”

The server brought their food. Mac thanked him as he helped set the table. Jacqueline watched with amusement as Mac inhaled the steam rising from his plate and his eyes started watering.

“I don’t know how it tastes yet, but this is good for the sinuses!”

She laughed. Mac watched as she spooned rice from a bowl onto her chicken, mixing them together and coating the rice with the pumpkin-colored sauce. He did the same. Then he dipped the naan bread she offered him into the sauce, tasting it before forking a piece of chicken. His eyes opened wide.

“You like?” she asked.

“Spicy.” Mac took a sip of water. “I like.”

She winked at him. “You need a little spice in your life.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Who else has told you that?”

“Mostly my three brothers.” Mac stirred in a bit more rice with his chicken. “And Alma. And Ella.”

“Who is Alma?”

“She was our housekeeper growing up. After my parents died, she became more like a second mother to me.”

“I think I remember meeting her once.”

“Really?”

“Yes. There was a study group one time that met at Joiner’s. She made the most amazing snacks for us. Tamales, chicken taquitos, guacamole, sopaipillas...”

“That’s Alma for you.”

“I was hungry a lot. You don’t forget food like that.” Jacqueline felt a pang at the memory and was sure it showed.

Mac’s eyes softened. “You were hungry? I never knew.”

“Joiner didn’t, either—I don’t think anyone did. I mean, it’s not like I was starving or anything. But food was pretty scarce.”

“I’m sorry. That must have been difficult.”

“Yeah, it was. Those days are over now, though.” Jacqueline grinned as she patted her tummy and took another bite of her food.

“Can I ask you about your work with KARIS? Tell me more about it.”

“What do you want to know?”

“How did you develop a passion for it? You said your focus was education for girls—how did that develop?”

Tiny butterflies erupted in her stomach at Mac’s serious expression. He seemed genuinely interested.

“Well, first, education has been so empowering to me personally. It was one stabilizing force in my life growing up, and then college broadened my horizons and opened up so many opportunities for me.” Jacqueline swallowed a sip of water. “One of those was travel abroad, and when I saw how girls in many places in the Middle East were denied this basic right, it broke my heart. I came to believe that helping girls get access to education was a real thing I could do to help the world.”

“That sounds so noble.”

Jacqueline frowned. “Not really.”

“Yes, really.”

“Mac, you have to think outside of Kilgore. At some point, I realized I could be any of those girls. The only difference between us is the geography of our births—nothing they or I chose. How could I not want to help them?”

“It’s still remarkable that you do.”

“I don’t think of it that way. I just think of it as human.”

Mac raised his glass of ice water. “Here’s to you, and Indian food, and being human.”

Jacqueline clinked her glass against his, but didn’t feel completely comfortable. Was he making fun of her? She didn’t know him well enough to be sure.

“What do you care about, Mac? Besides taxes.” She hoped there wasn’t an edge to her voice.

“I care about my brothers.” He paused after that, a little too long for her liking. “I care about hard work, and home, and my church.”

“Anything else?”

“I’ve been trying for some time to restore honor to my family name, but I’ve not been very successful on that project.”

“What do you mean?”

“You must be the only person in Kilgore who doesn’t know the story of my pap, Mason Dixon Temple. He was a wildcatter who went to prison for stealing oil. After he got out, we never saw him again. He died somewhere out west, but his grave has never been found, so there’s never been any closure to his complicated life.”

“You’ve tried to find his grave?”

“Yes—I’ve even paid a private investigator—but so far we’ve not been able to come up with anything. Joiner says he’ll go out west with me so we can look for ourselves. But I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like that’s the last resort—what would I do if we went out there and didn’t find it? It seems impossible to think about having closure without certainty. I guess that’s because certainty might clear our name.” Mac sighed. “It’s just a mess.”

Jacqueline understood what it felt like to be an outsider because of one’s family. She never thought of Joiner and Mac that way growing up, but clearly, everyone had their own set of troubles. “I’m sorry, Mac.”

He drank the last swallow of his water. “It’s no big deal. I’m embarrassed, to be honest, after talking to you about all of this. My concerns must seem pretty small-minded to someone with your kind of vision for the world.”

The server returned to fill their waters and Mac asked for the check. When he paid, she noticed he gave the server a hefty tip.

Jacqueline’s heart softened toward Mac. They were as different as night and day, but he was a good person. And his simplicity was somehow refreshing to her. Steadying. “Not at all,” she told him. “It takes all kinds.”

He drove them back to the office. Dark had fallen early on the January night, and the streetlamps glowed with warm light. As they pulled into the parking lot beside her brother’s Prius, Mac said, “I’d like to follow you home, if that’s okay, just to see you in.”

“That’s really not necessary. I’m a big girl.”

“Still, I’d feel better. Humor me?”

Eyes the color of dark amber smoldered at her with what seemed like more than just concern. This guy could be pretty intense, it seemed, and she liked it. She raised her eyebrows. “You’re the boss.”