I look around. “Where's everyone else?” Just as I say that, Bartlett and his wife Abby come through the door with Rueben and his little girl Plum. Introductions are made as Lemon and Graham come in too. Soon after, they're arguing about some speeding ticket Lemon got, and Graham, being the local cop, tells her if she doesn't want a speeding ticket she shouldn't go over the speed limit.
Prairie is quiet, listening, and I wrap my arm around her shoulder protectively.
I know Mom and Dad are watching every move we make.
But I'm not going to change how I treat Prairie to make them more comfortable. She's my priority now. She's going to be my wife.
Bartlett's wife Abby comes over to Prairie, introducing herself. “I'm so happy to meet you. I'm an outsider to the family too. I just married into this lot about a month ago. Lucky me.”
“Well, congratulations,” Prairie says. “Where did you get married?”
“In the barn here at the back of the property. It's a gorgeous place. I’ll have to show you sometime.” She gives Prairie a wink.
Bartlett gives me a long look.
Graham comes over and asks Prairie how she's holding up.
“I'm well, thanks. It's nice to see you out of uniform,” she says with a smile.
Plum comes over too. “Hi Prairie. My name is Plum. I'm the granddaughter. Theonlygranddaughter. What's your favorite kind of insect?”
Prairie smiles widely. “I would say a butterfly.”
Plum nods, taking this information in seriously. “Perfect choice. Mine too.” Plum laughs, skipping away.
Lemon takes her spot. “So how's it going, Prairie? You doing all right? I heard you've been up in the cabin with my brother all week.”
Prairie’s eyes widen, looking over at me for help, but before I can drag her away from an interrogation, Mom interrupts.
“Anyone hungry? Dinner is served!”
As we walk to the table, Prairie pauses at some family photos on the wall in the hallway.
“Who's that?” she asks.
Lemon is right behind her. “Oh, that's Uncle Luke. He was my dad's best friend. He died about a year ago. He was the most wonderful man in the world. Well, right next to my father. That's all of us out at Stout Lake. Our family has a lake house out there. It's about 90 minutes away.”
“Wow,” Prairie says. “Sounds nice.”
At the mention of Luke my body tenses, head to toe. I don’t want to think about him, think about what happened to him, right now.
“What's wrong?” Prairie asks, taking my hand.
I shake my head. “Nothing. Let's just go to dinner.”
We sitat the table and I force myself to forget about Luke's picture as I attempt to put on a smile.
“Why are you scowling?” Fig asks me.
Mac laughs. “Probably because Rye’s always in a bad mood.”
Prairie, though, looks over at me with a frown, not understanding their words.
I hold her hand protectively under the table.
Not wanting her to understand at all.
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