The door opened just as he went into a sneezing fit, and as he achoo’ed once, twice, three times, Edith asked, “Finn? What are you doing here?”

He felt way too much spittle leaving his mouth, and he ducked his head and turned away from the gorgeous blonde he wanted to see every single day. “Sorry,” he said after his mini-sneezing fit. “Something’s—” He cut off as he started sneezing again. He had these rapid-fire fits sometimes, usually around black pepper, and that was when he smelled it.

“Alex is making hash for dinner,” Edith said. “He always puts in too much black pepper.” She grinned as she stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind her. “Your daddy is driving away.”

Finn twisted and watched the big white truck disappear around the corner. “Yeah, uh.” He faced Edith again and found both of her eyebrows cocked up in a silent challenge. “I want to talk to you and Alex about something.”

“Edee,” Alex called from inside the house, and Edith turned as her eyebrows went down.

“Sounds intriguing,” Edith said. “You wanna come in?”

“Yeah.” Finn wiped his hands on his slacks as he followed Edith into the farmhouse. She hadn’t changed out of her dress yet, and it flowed around her in pale blue fabric with silver stripes down the length of the skirt. The upper half fit her like a glove, and wide straps went over her shoulders, leaving her arms bare and tan and muscled.

“How did the writing go last night?” he asked

“Good.” Edith turned back to him and walked backward for a couple of steps. “I finished the scene with the fireworks, and I’ve got the horse where I need him now.”

Finn grinned at her enthusiasm for her fiction writing. “That’s great, Edith.”

She smiled too. “Alex, Finn’s coming for lunch.”

“Fine,” Alex said over the sizzling of bacon and more on the stove. “Howdy, Finn.”

“Alex,” he said, and he kept working in the kitchen by pulling down plates and setting them on the counter.

“Can I help?” Finn asked when Edith sat at the big oval table in the kitchen.

“Oh, no,” Edith said. “Alex gets spiny if I get in his way.”

“Spiny.” Finn chuckled and sat next to her. “So you don’t cook?”

“I do,” she said. “From time to time. Lunch, especially. But Alex thinks cooking is a release from the other type of work he has to do, so when he gets in his chefy moods, I just let him go for it.” She brushed her hair off her face and smiled at her brother in the kitchen.

She turned back to him. “What about you, Pork Chop? Do you cook?”

“I can,” he said, grinning at her nickname. “Enough, at least.” He leaned forward to brush his lips along her cheek. “You’re gorgeous, Edith.”

“That’s why you had your daddy drive you out here?” she asked.

“No.” Finn shook his head. “No, but it’s still true.”

She didn’t look away from him, and Finn swallowed as he shifted in his seat. “Edith, there are nine sinkholes here on the ranch.”

Her smile fell. She blinked a couple of times. “Yes,” she said. “There are.”

“I wanted—” Finn looked over to Alex, now stirring something in a big pan on the stove. “I wanted to talk to you and Alex about—well—about—uh?—”

Edith leaned closer, her smile reappearing. “You’re cute when you’re nervous.”

Finn exhaled in a puff of air, his laugh following. “I want to come work for you guys.”

“You want….” She trailed off, her smile disappearing and her eyes widening as she blinked. Blink-blinked.

“We’re ready to eat,” Alex said as he put a plate piled high with bacon and sausage on the table between Edith and Finn. “Edee, you wanna grab the juice?”

“Yes, sir.” She got up, her eyes flitting away from Finn. They both returned to the kitchen, and Edith brought over a carton of orange juice and the stack of plates while Alex tossed a potholder down and put the big pan of hash on it. The crispy potatoes, onions, and cheese made Finn’s mouth water, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever get a bite down before he got the go-ahead to come work with Alex and Edith.

They both sat down, and everyone looked around at one another. The tension in the air felt too high to Finn. This was an easy Sunday afternoon lunch, after a Sabbath-day sermon.