She looked at Harry. “Are you nuts? It’s not safe.”
“I’m on duty tonight,” he said, as if that was sufficient reason to try.
She raised her chin and gave him a glare as cold as the great outdoors. “And we certainly know how you take your duty seriously.”
John looked at him, puzzled. “What does she mean?”
Harry ignored his friend, his eyes never leaving Melissa. So she’d thought about that night at the steak house and bar, too?
Not that it mattered, he reminded himself quickly. Nothing could ever happen between them.
He went to the phone and called Mike, who, as he’d suspected, told him to stay put. The roads were a mess and the day shift deputies were pulling double duty.
“What did Mike say?” John asked as he came to the table.
Harry frowned. “I guess I’m staying, if y’all don’t mind putting me up.”
Melissa answered before her brother could. “Of course we don’t. It’d be pretty rude of us to refuse when you helped move the herd.” She put bowls of hot soup in front of them.
“What’s this?” John asked.
“French onion soup.”
He frowned. “You made us French food? Dad said he almost starved to death before he got home.”
“Oh, just try it, John,” Melissa said, losing her patience. “It’s hardly French. It’s onion soup with melted cheese.” She muttered, “If you want French, try eating snails.”
John looked about ready to pass on dinner.
Harry tried the soup. “Hey, this is good. Did you make it?” he asked Melissa.
“Yes. And thank you.” She gave him a smile.
The smile warmed him as much as the hot soup.
They ate silently until the phone rang, shattering the quiet.
John jumped up to answer it. “Hello? Oh, hi, Dad. How’s Mom?”
Immediately, Melissa’s attention was focused on her brother. Harry watched her, seeing the anxiety she was feeling. It must’ve been hard to come out with them instead of going to the hospital with her mom.
When Melissa realized he was staring at her, she stiffened and turned to eat the rest of her soup.
“You should’ve gone with your mom instead of helping us,” Harry said softly.
“I wanted to, but Dad needed to be alone with her tonight. He didn’t have time to prepare for any separation or the threat of a serious illness.”
“They’re that close?”
Melissa looked at him in surprise. “Yes. Aren’t your parents?”
He gave her a wry look. “Not for a long time. They divorced ten years ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay. It’s not a sensitive subject for me. They’re much happier since they split up.”
“Are you an only child?”
“No, I have a younger sister. She had a harder time with the divorce. She was just fourteen. She’s married now and I don’t see her that often. I don’t much like her husband.”
“How old were you when your folks divorced?”
“Eighteen. That makes me twenty-eight now.”
Melissa flashed an embarrassed smile. “I guess I wasn’t subtle enough.”
“So how old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
“You moved to France when you were twenty? Was your dad crazy?”
Her spine stiffened. “He wasn’t crazy at all. He and Mom realized what a great experience it would be for me.”
John, who had just hung up the phone, entered the conversation, “You mean, Mom decided it would be a great experience for you, and forced Dad into agreeing.”
“How did she do that?” Harry asked.
John rolled his eyes, but Melissa said, “She stopped speaking to him until he gave in.”
Harry looked at John, “How long did that take?”
“A couple of days,” Melissa stated. Suddenly she noticed John smiling and Harry looking at him, nodding.
“What?”
Her brother shrugged. “I didn’t say anything.”
She turned to stare at Harry. “Why were you nodding?”
“I was just acknowledging what you said,” he replied. He certainly didn’t want to tell Melissa that her mother might have withheld more than her conversation. Sleeping on a lonely sofa could convince a man quickly.
“Is this soup all we’re having, sis?” John interjected. Harry recognized the subject change.
“Oh! I forgot the steak.” Melissa jumped up and headed into the kitchen.
“Good save,” Harry whispered.
“I see you thought what I thought. I didn’t ask Dad, but I figured if she wasn’t speaking to him, even Dad wasn’t going to try anything.”
Harry laughed.
When John went to help with the steak, declining Harry’s offer of assistance, Harry thought about the conversation. Clearly, Melissa’s parents had a good marriage. They still loved each other and their children. He wondered how a marriage like that would feel. And if he’d ever find out.
“Here we go,” Melissa announced, setting a thick steak down in front of Harry, steam rising from it.
John had followed her to the table, carrying his own plate.
“This looks great. Thanks. I’m just afraid I’ll fall asleep before I can finish. Have you noticed that when you warm up after being out in the cold it makes you sleepy?”
“Yes,” Melissa said with a chuckle. “Mom used to let us play outside in winter just before lunch. Then she’d feed us and put us to bed at once. We never even complained about naps.”
“Sometimes I wish I was still that young,” John said with a sigh.
Melissa frowned. “Why, John? Is something wrong?”
“No, not really. It’s just…Dad wants me to take over running the ranch, but I can feel him staring over my shoulder all the time.”
“Have you told him how you feel?”
Harry cleared his throat. “That would be a little difficult, Melissa.”
“Why?” she asked, turning to gaze at him.
Harry sought for words. “It would be like you taking over the cooking. Even if your mother ate what you fixed, you probably would think she was criticizing your cooking in her head.”
“No, I wouldn’t think that.”
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