* * *
The sizzle of chicken frying filled the whole kitchen.
Essie cut out biscuits and put them into a big round cast-iron skillet. Ada slid them into the oven and checked the potatoes. They would be ready to mash at the same time the biscuits finished cooking. Green beans with bacon simmered on the back of the stove and a loaf of freshly baked pumpkin bread cooled on the cabinet.
“I’ll set the table while you fix up a fruit salad,” Essie said.
Ada nodded.
The day before, she had made up her mind. She was giving Creed back his escrow money and backing out of the deal. She’d hire him to stay on at the ranch and even clean out the bunkhouse for him, but she couldn’t leave the canyon. Now she wasn’t so sure that was the right decision.
She looked at the Christmas tree and then at Essie. Surely to God, something would give her a sign. Anything to point her in the right direction. She liked living in Pennsylvania and she would love it when summer came and it wasn’t hot as hell. She loved bantering with Essie and remembering the old times. But she missed Sage.
“Can’t have your cake and eat it too,” Essie said.
“You talkin’ to me?”
“I am. I know it’s been botherin’ you these past few days and I kept my mouth shut. I don’t want you to ever regret leaving, Ada. You know where I stand, but time is getting pretty damn short. You’ve got to make up your mind and not look back.”
Ada swallowed twice, but the lump in her throat refused to budge.
I’ve relied on my Indian sense all these years. Don’t fail me now. Give me a sign. All I want is one little sign to show me how to make this decision. A star floating over the fried chicken with a long banner trailing behind it would be nice. Or writing on the wall. I don’t even care if it’s in orange Crayola.
The back door flew open with such force that Essie grabbed her heart.
Sage’s butt popped up in the air above Creed’s shoulder. Her words came out one at a time between giggles and gasps. “You cheated. Now I don’t get to see you make supper in the…”
He quickly swung her around and her face popped up. She gulped twice and said, “In the kitchen.”
Ada Presley had her sign.
* * *
“Grand, you are early! And you talked Aunt Essie into coming with you!” Sage hurried across the room and grabbed them both in a three-way hug.
“Surprise,” Essie said. “But I don’t know who got the real surprise. Girl, y’all about scared the bejesus right out of me. You’re supposed to come in gentle-like, not like a tornado blowin’ the door down.”
“When did you get here? Or better yet, how did you get here?” Sage asked.
“We flew into Amarillo and got a taxi to bring us home,” Ada said.
“We would have come and got you, Miz Ada,” Creed said.
“Hello, Creed, I’m Essie, Ada’s sister. She’s told me all about you. We didn’t mean to be rude and not include you in this homecoming surprise.”
Creed stuck out his hand, but Essie bypassed it and hugged him.
“Aunt Essie, you said y’all instead of you’ens.” Sage laughed.
“You scared seventy years off of me and I reverted back to my Okie days,” she said. “Now go get washed up. Supper will be ready in ten minutes.”
“Grand, a taxi must’ve cost a fortune. Why on earth didn’t you call us?” Sage asked.
“Wanted to surprise you, and besides, money ain’t nothing but dirty paper with dead presidents on it. The look on your face when Creed hauled you in here like a sack of feed was worth every dime. Do I want to know why you got carried in that way?” Ada asked.
“We were racing. Loser had to cook supper,” Creed answered. “It looked like I was going to lose so I evened the odds. That is one long-legged granddaughter you got, Miz Ada.”
“From the smell of this kitchen, I’d say we both won, and neither of us has to cook,” Sage said.
“We been here an hour and thought we’d go on with the supper. Place looks nice all decorated up,” Ada said. “You didn’t even forget the nativity on the credenza.”
Heat popped out on Sage’s face and neck like a red-hot sunburn. “No, ma’am, I did not.”
“I like it better there than on the mantel. Creed, did she tell you the story of that credenza?” Ada asked and went on before he could answer. “It belonged to my mother’s grandmother. Started out as one of those old washstands that folks put in their bedrooms. There was a bow on the back with a rod across the two ends to hang a towel on. And the washbowl and pitcher set on the top. The doors underneath opened up for a chamber pot.”
“Grand!”
“Well, they did. Momma said that when she inherited it she set it on the screened-in porch and opened the doors for a whole summer just to air it out. She gave it to me for a wedding present, and it has set right there ever since Tom brought me down into this canyon. He laughed when he brought it in and said we was uptown now because we had a credenza.”
“Well, it’s a nice piece of furniture. Good and sturdy,” Creed said.
Essie gave Sage a push toward the living room. “Stop talkin’ about old furniture and go wash up. We can talk over supper.”
Creed held it in until they reached the bathroom and then he chuckled.
She unzipped her coveralls and let them fall down to her waist, pushed up the sleeves of her knit shirt, and turned on the water. “Lord, if you hadn’t turned me around when you did I’d have embarrassed the tee-total hell out of us both.”
“Credenza?”
She looked in the mirror at his reflection and grinned. “I know. She’s psychic, I swear she
