Finally Home by Lois Greiman Read Free Book Online Page B

weakening. “I don’t want to mess up your experiment.”
    â€œHave a chair,” Emily chirped and hurried to the cupboard for additional crockery.
    Fetching mismatched bowls, she placed a cobbler in each and delivered them to the table.
    â€œThere you go. The topping’s fresh from Bodacious,” she said, referring to the goat she’d brought to the Lazy just a few months before. “I used honey from Colt’s mom and plums from that little tree out back.”
    â€œGeez, Em,” Colt said, settling into the chair next to Sophie, “if you grew your own cinnamon you’d never have to leave the farm.”
    She blinked. “Does cinnamon grow this far north? How would I plant it? Do you know anything about harvesting—”
    Colt chuckled. “Don’t go getting all riled up,” he said and sliced into his cobbler. “I was just kidding.”
    She fell silent as the four of them tasted their dessert in unison. “What do you think?” she asked, brow already beetled.
    â€œMan!” Sophie murmured and paused for a moment to stare at her cobbler.
    â€œWhat?” Emily said, unclasping her hands.
    â€œI just don’t understand it,” Casie said, ruminating slowly.
    â€œIs it good?” Em asked, but just then Bliss made a noise from the other room and she scooted out to fetch her. By the time she returned, cuddling the baby against her shoulder, the topic had not changed. Sometimes Emily’s experiments were gut-wrenching disasters, but when they worked, they worked.
    â€œIt’s just . . .” Casie tasted another spoonful. “I mean . . .” She shook her head. “ I can cook.”
    â€œReally?” Colt asked.
    â€œNo,” Sophie murmured, not lifting her gaze from the cobbler as she took another bite.
    The kitchen went quiet. Ty glanced from one woman to the next.
    â€œI made that oatmeal once,” Casie said.
    â€œOh yeah,” Sophie agreed, savoring another small spoonful. “That wasn’t bad.”
    Casie licked the back of her spoon, looking thoughtful. “And when Em was still laid up I made that pizza.”
    â€œIt was frozen,” Sophie reminded her.
    â€œWell, yes,” Casie agreed. “It was frozen before I started.”
    â€œAnd afterward it was burned.”
    â€œBut I did make it and . . .” Casie took another bite and closed her eyes to the sensations. “Holy cats, Em, I just don’t have any idea how you do this.”
    She sounded honestly upset, which, naturally, made Emily euphoric. “You really like it?” she asked and zipped her gaze from one to the other. Colt lifted his bowl. It was already empty.
    Still cuddling Bliss, she snatched the dish from his hand and hurried to the stove for a refill. A shade of pink showed through her mocha complexion. “You sure it’s not too tart?” she asked.
    â€œI’ll know more after my third or fourth helping,” Colt said.
    â€œYou’ve gotta be careful,” Emily said. “Or your cholesterol’s going to be higher than your dad’s.”
    He shrugged. “Mom’s got him on starvation rations. So it’s my duty to hold up the consumption standards of the Dickenson men. It’s a tough job,” Colt said.
    Emily rolled her eyes but her smile spoke volumes.
    Ty let the soft sounds of domesticity seep into his soul, spilling like mulled cider into his system, relaxing his gut and tilting his world toward perfect.
    The remainder of dessert was consumed while a half dozen topics were discussed. In a matter of minutes, Sophie was mixing up milk replacer for the lamb, Emily was gathering up the dishes with one hand, and Ty was running hot water into the sink. Steam curled up like morning mist. The water felt heavenly as he dunked the first dishes inside.
    â€œI can wash,” Casie offered, but Colt shook his head.
    â€œLet the boy do it,” he said.