Lila puffed out a breath and sped off.
Seth made his way to the back booth. His brother looked up and raised a hand in recognition then swiveled in his seat, seeming to check for an empty chair.
Seth shook his head, pointed toward the back and Zeke nodded.
On reaching Rory’s booth, Seth said, “Hi, sport. I stopped by to eat, but the place is full up. Your mom suggested maybe I could sit with you.”
The boy stopped toying with the fork stuck in a Cobb salad. “Sure.” He sat straighter. “Hey, if you want, you can have my dinner. I haven’t licked the fork or anything.”
Smiling, Seth slid onto the bench seat across from Rory, venturing a guess that the kid disliked lettuce. From the size of the mound left in his bowl, Seth judged the whole of it remained untouched. “It looks good,” Seth said. “I may order the same thing. You know, you’ll need all of that protein if you’re going to play ball.”
“Really?” Rory dug his fork under the egg and slices of ham, but kept scowling. “I don’t like vegetables, but Mom says I gotta eat ’em.”
“You should listen to her. Veggies build strong joints, which you need to swing a bat hard enough to hit a home run.”
The kid appeared to still be mulling that over when his mother rushed up, order pad in hand. “Seth, do you need a menu?” She happened to glance down at her son’s bowl. “Rory Jenkins, you’ve hardly taken a bite. Tonight’s dessert is your favorite chocolate pudding. But if you don’t make a substantial dent in your dinner, you aren’t getting sweets. Sorry, Seth.” A short sigh escaped her. “What can I bring you?”
“I told Rory that salad looks good. I’ll have one, too. And coffee, black.”
Lila stood a moment with her pencil poised over her pad. “Uh, I’ll go turn in your order.” She gestured toward the kitchen, still not moving, as if she expected him to change his mind.
He flashed a smile. “Great. I’m starved. It’ll be a race to the finish to see if Rory beats me to that chocolate pudding.”
“You are so full of it,” Lila murmured, bending nearer to Seth so only he heard before she whisked away, stopping at a table where four ranchers hailed her.
Satisfaction rippled through Seth when the boy pulled his bowl close to his chest and said, “I’m starting now. I bet I can beat you.”
“Hmm, okay, but chew it well so you don’t choke.”
Seth watched the egg disappear, followed by the cheese. And for perhaps the first time he wondered what he’d be like as a dad. His own father had encouraged and guided him and Zeke, patiently answering scores of sometimes dumb questions. He’d taught them by example, too. Seth couldn’t recall a time he’d ever heard his father raise his voice to his boys or their mother, or to anyone at their games as some dads were prone to do. He’d want to be a husband and dad like that.
Stuck on the subject of family, he realized he was almost at the age now that his folks were when they’d had him and his brother. Now that Zeke was married, Seth wondered how long they’d wait to have a kid. Maybe not long. So he’d be an uncle.
Maybe it was time to find his life partner. But, as he’d told Zeke before coming to visit, with his nomadic life the few women he’d found interesting didn’t consider him a good long-term prospect.
He couldn’t blame them. Sooner or later he always succumbed to the lure of a possible mother lode. It was his career, after all. So was it surprising some women accused him of being more passionate about chasing new gems than he was about them? Spending a minute examining past relationships, he gave an inward wince.
What did that say about him? What would Lila Jenkins think?
He cracked the knuckles on his left hand. It was a restless habit.
Rory paused in his eating. “My teacher says not to do that...crack your knuckles. It’ll make ’em fat so they won’t bend when you get older.” The boy’s forehead wrinkled. “But you’re old and your fingers still bend.”
“Hey, I’m not that old.” Seth laughed, but flexed his fingers several times.
“That’s a cool ring,” Rory noted. “Is it a snake?”
Seth spread his right hand open on the table. “Yes, I had a silversmith in Italy make it. The snake’s eyes are chips from emeralds I found in Thailand.”
“Huh. Me ’n Kemper found a snake in his mom’s garden once. He had yellow eyes.”
Seth shrugged. “I guess I could have had his eyes made from citrine—that’s a yellow stone. But I was stoked from finding a nice cache of emeralds that I sold at the Vicenza gem fair.”
For a second the boy’s expression went totally blank, then he picked up his fork and began eating again.
Obviously emeralds didn’t impress the kid. Seth had encountered that dismissive look before in some adults who learned what he did. Usually not from women who wanted him to give them expensive jewelry. Perhaps that’s what he hoped to find in a woman—someone genuinely interested in him, not the gems he unearthed.
Seth saw Lila on her way toward him, juggling what were most probably his empty mug and two coffeepots. As she made her way between tables, she paused to refill cups, including for the table of ranchers who’d waylaid her after she’d taken his order. She had a ready smile that Seth liked. In fact, he found a lot about her to like—very attractive, hardworking, patient, a good mom.
Finally reaching their booth, she set the mug in front of him. “You didn’t specify leaded or unleaded. I brought both.”
“I’ll take regular so I have enough energy to go for a run after I get back to the ranch.”
She poured from the pot with the brown top. “Do you run every evening?”
“When I can.” He caught her studying his torso. “I’m blessed with good genes. But much of my work requires climbing mountains, which demands that I stay in good shape.”
“I know you’re a gem hunter. I saw Myra’s wedding band. She told us you found the stones, had them cut and set with diamonds. The colored stones are pretty. Blue at times. Purple at others.”
“Tanzanite. They’re only found in Tanzania and are becoming quite rare.”
“Do they just lie around on the ground?” Lila shifted the coffeepots.
Seth laughed. “Most quality gems are dug out of pockets in mountainsides. Rough-cut stones look very different from the finished product you see set in rings or necklaces.”
“Oh.” The bell announcing an order up dinged a couple of times, causing Lila to turn her head. “Your salad’s ready. Would you like a roll and butter with that?”
“No, thanks. I’m probably going to lose the race to Rory. He’s been shoveling his in while we’ve been talking.”
Lila shifted her gaze to her son’s side of the table and her eyebrows rose in surprise. “He is. Shocking. It’s always a battle to get him to eat vegetables, especially green ones. How’d you get him to listen to you?”
Rory answered. “Seth said I need to eat vegetables if I want to hit a home run. And he knows, ’cause don’t you remember me telling you Mr. Zeke said Seth got trophies for playing baseball?”
Lila bobbed her head, but before the conversation advanced further she was called away to replenish coffee at another table. She soon scurried back with Seth’s salad and was off again.
Seth had decided to let Rory win their eating contest if need be—to help his ego, and so that maybe he’d be happier to eat vegetables in the future. But then wondered if letting a kid win was like throwing a game?
Had