interest.
“So how did you two meet?” his mother asked, her gaze moving from Dan to Beth, a knowing grin on her face.
He blinked and stepped back.
Oh, no.
No.
Surely his mother wasn’t going to go down that road. “Docs Rogers’s house. I offered to take Beth to Gunbarrel, but the storm derailed us.” He looked at his mom. “When did you say Joe was getting back?”
His mother chuckled, reading his mind as usual. “You’re out of luck, Danny boy.”
Maybe bringing Beth to the house wasn’t such a good idea, after all. His mother was a matchmaker. And she was good. Really good. She’d orchestrated his sisters’ romances straight to the altar.
Dan held his own when Joe was around. Joe was the oldest and he protected his little brother. He shook his head. The odds were distinctly not in his favor.
Beth stood in the hallway, biting her lip in concentration as she attempted to sort out the dynamics. Good luck with that. He chuckled. The Gallagher house was always a little eccentric and the hormone-charged atmosphere changed as quickly as the Colorado weather.
He observed Beth for a moment. Any other lifetime and he’d be tripping over himself to get to know someone like her. Smart, beautiful and brave. Obviously not without some issues of her own, but seemingly capable of handling them with humor and grace. Yet, for today at least, the bottom line remained the same. Elizabeth Rogers was a woman passing through Paradise. A city girl to boot.
Like Amy’s momma.
He and his mother were going to have to have a little chat, because he sure wasn’t going to step into the same cow patty twice in one lifetime.
Beth was alert the moment Dan’s large hand gently touched her elbow. That worried her. She didn’t like that she looked forward to the touch of a man she’d only just met.
“Careful. That floor is slick,” he murmured.
She nodded, looking down at her stocking feet as she padded across the polished wood to the kitchen.
The closer they got, the stronger the enticing aromas grew. Yeasty warm bread and some sort of stew.
They entered the room and it was everything Beth would have imagined a farm kitchen should be. A humongous oval table with a cheery cotton tablecloth dominated the space. It was a table where a big family could gather and share meals, laughter and love.
The stove was modern, a stainless steel professional grade, and the double-door, brushed stainless steel refrigerator looked new. A braided rug in tones of burgundy and green covered the floor beneath the table and drew the colors of the room together.
Elsie pulled out a chair. “Have a seat, dear. You must be starving. It’s been a long time since breakfast.”
“GG, I want to sit next to Dr. Beth,” Amy said.
“GG?” Beth asked.
“Oh, that’s what Amy calls me. Grandma Gallagher is a mouthful, so she came up with that as soon as she learned the alphabet.”
“GG and Pumpkin,” Dan said.
Amy shot her father a tolerant glance.
“I’m saving this seat for you, Amy,” Elsie said. She turned to Beth. “Coffee or tea? Or maybe hot cocoa?”
“Coffee would be lovely. Black. What can I do to help?”
“Sit, sit,” Elsie said. “Everything is ready. You, too, Dan.”
When he grabbed a chair at the other end of the table, his mother stopped him. “I’m sitting there. Do you mind? You can sit next to your guest.”
The corners of Dan’s mouth pulled upward slightly.
“Amy, you want to set the table?” Elsie asked as she slid steaming mugs of coffee in front of Beth and Dan.
“Sure, GG.”
Elsie handed Amy burgundy quilted place mats and cloth napkins, along with silverware. Then she placed matching pottery plates and bowls in a stack on the table.
Amy concentrated on setting the table, a determined set to her little mouth.
“Nice job, Pumpkin,” Dan said when she was done. He looked at Beth and winked. “Our Amy is the best table setter in the valley.”
His daughter beamed at his praise. Dan was obviously a devoted father.
A father’s love was instrumental in forming a young girl’s sense of self-worth. Beth had learned that bit of information from a college psych class and she’d never forgotten the professor’s words. It explained a lot, since in her case all she could remember were a couple of foster fathers who’d looked right through her with disinterest.
Elsie sat and gave a nod. Amy placed her tiny hand in Beth’s left one and Dan took Beth’s right hand in his large one. They all bowed their heads and Beth followed their motions.
Beth hadn’t prayed over a meal since she’d been a senior in high school, living with Ben and his family. Yet this seemed so natural, so right. How could that be?
“Daniel, please lead us in prayer,” Elsie said.
“Dear Lord, we thank You for the safety of this home. We ask You to take care of everyone out in the weather. We are thankful for this meal and ask You to bless this food to our bodies. Amen.”
“Amen,” Beth murmured.
Elsie jumped up after the prayer and ladled out the stew. When she offered Beth the basket of bread, Beth lifted her arm to reach for it, and grimaced.
“We need to check that shoulder,” Dan said.
“It’s not a big deal,” she replied as she smoothed her napkin on her lap. “Hardly hurts at all now.”
He raised a brow.
“Really. Besides, I heal extremely fast.”
He laughed. “I bet you do. But you still need some ibuprofen and ice, Wonder Woman.”
Beth arched a brow. She’d known the man four hours and already he knew how to push her buttons.
“Is Dr. Beth really Wonder Woman?” Amy asked, eyes wide.
“Daddy is kidding,” Elsie answered, her lips twitching. “Right, Daddy?”
“Right.”
“What happened to your shoulder?” Elsie asked.
“She fell,” Dan explained.
“It’s nothing,” Beth insisted.
Dan raised his eyes from his meal to meet hers in a silent challenge.
“You really should have that checked, dear,” Elsie admonished. “I’ll get you an ice pack and some ibuprofen after we eat.”
“Did I mention that Dr. Mom trumps a medical degree?” Dan said.
Beth suppressed a laugh.
“How’s your stew?” Elsie asked.
“Delicious, thank you.” Beth took another bite. It was good, savory and filling. Real food, not from a can, as was her usual fare.
“You’re welcome. The beef is from our own ranch.” Elsie looked at her. “Are you from Colorado?”
“I was born here, and I’m licensed in Colorado, but I haven’t lived here in a very long time.”
“And you’re on your way to Gunbarrel,” Elsie mused, as she buttered her bread and placed