Summertime on the Ranch by Carolyn Brown (leveled readers txt) 📗

“Sure thing,” Greta said. “My Seamus always got cleaned up in the kitchen sink. Brings back good memories.”

Dalton washed his hands all the way to the elbows and then turned to look for a towel. Becca was standing right behind him, towel in hand. He took it from her and started drying the water from his arms.

“My turn.” She hip butted him to one side. “Can’t be tearin’ up the lettuce with the smell of dog on me either. Plates are right there. We’ll need salad bowls, too, and you might as well get dessert dishes down. Grammie made a pecan pie for dessert.”

“I’ve died and gone to heaven,” Dalton groaned. “Pecan pie is my favorite, right next to apple, cherry, and peach cobbler, and banana cream.”

“In other words, you like pie?” Becca finished washing her hands.

Dalton gave her the towel and took down the plates. Thank God, Nana had raised him by the goose and gander law. She always said what was good for the goose was good for the gander and insisted he learn a little about cooking and keeping house as well as how to work cattle and build a barn. “I love pie of any kind, cake of any kind, and ice cream and homemade fudge, and I could go on and on. I have a sweet tooth that is never satisfied.”

Becca giggled. “That sounds like a pickup line.”

Greta laughed with her. “And the next thing you should say is ‘And you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen,’ right?”

“I’ll have to remember that.” Dalton grinned as he set plates and cutlery in the proper places.

When everything was ready, Greta told Dalton to sit at the head of the table and she sat to his left, leaving the place to his right for Becca. “I’ll say grace,” she said, and gave a twenty-second grace for the food. “Eli already blessed everything in the whole bloody county, so that’s enough even if it is Sunday.” She passed the platter with the pot roast, potatoes, and carrots over to Dalton.

“This is one fine meal,” he said as he heaped his plate and handed the platter to Becca. “Thank you so much for inviting me.”

“You’re very welcome. It’s nice to have a man at the table.” Greta took out a good portion of meat and vegetables when Becca was finished. “Us McKays are not a bit bashful when it comes to eating. We like our food, and we’re not ashamed to take seconds, so don’t hold back, Dalton, but do remember that we have pecan pie for dessert.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He tried to eat slowly so he could spend more time with Becca, but he was so danged hungry that he’d finished off his plate in record time.

“After dinner, me and my friends are going down to the casino to see if we can turn twenty dollars into a hundred,” Greta said as she reached for a second helping. “There’s movies in the entertainment center. You kids can pick out one and watch it while I’m gone, unless you’ve got somewhere you need to be, Dalton.”

“No, ma’am.” He grinned and picked up a second hot roll. “I’d love to settle in and watch a movie with Becca.”

“Just don’t fall asleep.” Greta grinned. “My granddaughter can be a real practical joker.”

“Oh, really?” He arched an eyebrow toward Becca.

She shrugged. “Fall asleep and find out.”

Chapter 3

Grammie was a sneaky one.

Becca was not going to watch a movie with Dalton that afternoon. She intended to curl up on the porch swing and read one of the romance novels her mother had given her last weekend. Or she might go down to Ringgold, saddle up her horse, and go for a ride across her folks’ ranch. She had fended off all the real cowboys, wannabe cowboys, and cowboy singers in Nashville, but she had to admit she was attracted to Dalton. The chemistry between them was way too strong to spend a whole afternoon alone with him.

Or is it? She pondered.

Dalton Wilson could be like chocolate. If she had too much of it and got downright sick of the taste, she might not want to ever look at it again. If she spent some time with the man, she might possibly find all kinds of things about him that she didn’t like.

Grammie was also more than a little controlling.

“I’ve got the perfect movie for y’all to watch this afternoon,” Grammie said as she rifled through the drawers in her entertainment center. “Here it is. It’s an old one, probably popular when y’all were just kids.”

“What’s the title?” Becca set a glass of sweet tea on the end table and then plopped down on the sofa.

“It’s got Patrick Dempsey in it, and it’s…” She held up the movie to show them that it was Lucky 7, “…and Kimberly Williams, and it’s all about a girl who thinks…” She stopped and smiled. “Y’all just watch it. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. It won’t take us long to lose twenty bucks at the casino.” She picked up her purse from the coffee table and left the house when the sound of a car horn blasted out in the front yard.

“You ever watched this?” Dalton sat down on the other end of the sofa.

“Nope.” Becca said. “Grammie loves chick-flick movies, so you can bet your bottom dollar this is not an action film. You can sneak away if you want to.”

“Naw,” Dalton grinned and put the disk she handed him into the player. “I don’t reckon one love movie will hurt me.”

Becca picked up the remote, hit the play button, and then read the back of the container that held the movie. Oh, yes, sir, Grammie was playing matchmaker for sure.

“Mind if I take off my boots?” Dalton asked.

“Not one bit.” Becca propped her bare feet up on the coffee table. “Grammie says this is what a coffee table should be for, not for doilies and fancy