Читать книгу Special Delivery - Judi Lynn - Страница 9

Chapter 3

Keagan drove to his parents’ farm early in the morning. Heavy frost covered the fields, and fog swirled in the low spots on the way. It was only a twenty-minute drive from the two-story that he rented in town with his roommate, Brad, and he knew every inch of the way. He’d been looking for property to buy for a while now, but farms were too big and ranch houses in town with tiny yards were too small. He’d better find something soon, though, because his landlord was getting the itch to convert the rental into a bed-and-breakfast. He’d make more money, for sure.

No lights were on in either house—the old homestead or the ranch his sister and her husband lived in. The fields were all harvested. Hopefully, his dad and brother-in-law were sleeping in this morning. Keagan cut his headlights so they wouldn’t shine in the windows and drove to the far shed where his studio was. He could only spend an hour here before he had to leave for work at the post office, but he’d hand-painted eight dinner plates last night. The paint would be dry by now, setting off the pattern he’d embossed in them, and he wanted to glaze them today. The woman who’d ordered them at Art’s Grocery had chosen the fall leaf pattern with hues of rust, red, and gold, and she wanted to collect them this coming weekend when she made a return trip to Mill Pond.

When he walked into his studio, the smell of wet clay greeted him. The heavy blocks were sealed in thick bags, but somehow, the odor always permeated the room, and he loved it. He glanced at his pottery wheels and long, drying counters. The teapot in the shape of a cat sat ready to be painted in the corner. The customer wanted the teapot to look like a tuxedo cat—black with a white chin, nose, and paws—just like the picture she’d given him. He’d paint that after supper tonight.

He pulled on a work apron and got busy, finishing ten minutes before he had to leave for work. His cell phone rang and he glanced at his mom’s number.

“Hey, K, when you stop to deliver mail for us today, come up to the house and I’ll give you a casserole to drop off at Axel’s place.”

He grinned. This happened more often than he’d expected. People knew his route. If their houses came before a friend’s, they’d often give him something to drop off on his route, besides their mail. Not technically allowed, but this was Mill Pond. Rules could bend here.

He closed up his workshop and started toward town, slowing by the house to give a quick honk, and his mom blinked the front porch light in a good morning signal. He could picture her, standing at the front window in her flowered terrycloth robe with the sash pulled tight around her slim waist and her chin-length hair slightly mussed—a smart, pretty woman. She worked as a paralegal for the town’s main lawyer, but she must have taken today off.

When he got to the post office, Pete glanced up and grunted. “Heavy load today. More catalogues and ads than usual. That time of year, getting ready for the holidays.”

If Keagan wanted to finish his route before supper, he’d better get a move on. It was after eleven when he pulled up to his parents’ porch. He handed his mom their mail, and she handed him a cardboard box with a foil-covered, disposable pan inside it. He sniffed, and his mouth watered. “Tamale pie?”

She smiled and reached for a plastic container. “I made one for us, too, so you could have some.”

“Thanks. You’re the best.” His mom was a wonderful cook. He knew his way around a kitchen, but cooking for one person wasn’t that exciting, so he kept it simple. “Have a great day, Mom.”

“You, too.” She turned to go back inside and he heard his sister’s voice, and then he remembered. Mom and Marcia were canning vegetable soup together today, using up the last of whatever vegetables they’d picked from their gardens. It was an annual event before they tidied up their gardens for next spring. This year, good weather had hung on longer than usual, so they were just getting around to it.

He followed his route up and down country roads until he came to Axel’s house close to noon. Karli’s Dodge Charger was pulled in the driveway, close to the front door. The car’s trunk was open, and she was bending over to pull a box of cleaning supplies out of it.

Great ass. He shook his head, surprised at himself, but the woman was easy on the eyes. Don’t go there, he warned himself. She was the type of woman who’d cause him grief. Think with the right head this time. Three more bags of groceries poked out of the trunk.

Keagan hopped out of his truck and went to help her carry things into the kitchen. If he kept her at a distance, they could be friends. Anything more, and he’d regret it.

“Thanks.” She put the eggs and meat in the refrigerator, along with the milk. “I thought I’d stop in town and buy a few things before I came.”

“Good idea, there’s not much in the cupboards. My mom sent a casserole for you. I’ll go get it.”

She had most of the groceries put away when he came back—a bag of potatoes, a few cans of vegetables, and a can of coffee. She lifted the foil off the pan the minute he set it down. “This smells wonderful. What is it?”

“Tamale casserole. The bottom’s a mix of ground chuck, onions, diced tomatoes, and black beans. The crust’s a corn muffin mix.”

“I want some. How about you?” She tore the plastic off a stack of paper plates she’d bought. “I don’t trust any of the old man’s dishes until I wash them.”

He wouldn’t either. “I can’t stay, have to finish my route, but Mom said to tell you hi.”

Axel’s voice interrupted them. “If you two ever stop yapping, I’m hungry out here.”

“You haven’t gotten out of bed yet?” Keagan called.

“Don’t be daft. Had to use the bathroom, didn’t I? Then I got a bottle of Ensure.”

Karli rolled her eyes. “Tell your mom thanks. I appreciate the food.”

With a nod, Keagan left and returned to his truck. For the rest of his route, though, he thought about the casserole. And Karli. She was one cute girl, and she didn’t put up with any flack. A good thing, or Axel would run over her.

He thought of the house and felt sorry for her. She was one determined woman to stay in a place in shambles with an old man who was mean as spit. He didn’t think she had a prayer of convincing Axel to go to a nursing center, but she might be able to come up with something else. He wished her luck.