Page 46 of Deacon

By the time I see two trucks coming up the drive, there’s enough food to feed a dozen men. I pile it on the table as Aiden comes downstairs. He’s showered, his hair still wet, and he’s got a good shirt on.

These men must be important.

I take off my apron and head to the hall, intending to make myself scarce. He clears his throat, and I freeze.

“You stay for dinner,” he says.

“I don’t want to get in the way,” I whisper.

He points two fingers at me and then at the table. “You’ll sit and be quiet for the meal. No backtalk.”

I nod, throat tight. “Can I get cleaned up first?”

He jerks his head at the stairs. “Hurry up.”

Eyes down, I go upstairs and get in the shower. I used the little money I have to make mine pretty. The bathroom has two soft towels and a scented soap bar, but it’s not anywhere near as big and fine as Deacon’s house or the bathroom adjoining his bedroom with a tub so big, I could have sunk to my chin in warm water.

I scrub up and put on a dress. My hair is braided and wrapped in a knot at the nape of my neck. I’m trying to look modest because I don’t know these men and I don’t want them looking at me like vultures.

Downstairs, there are three new men in the dining room. Two are young, maybe early thirties, and the last is older, streaks of gray in his hair.

They’re at the table, talking. Their voices are loud, punctuated by laughter. I go to the kitchen and start bringing out the food. One young man, with brown hair that just reaches his shoulders, looks me up and down as I set the platter of chicken down.

“Who’s this?” he drawls.

Aiden glances up. “My stepdaughter, Freya.”

The man holds out his hand. Confused, I shake it. “Kasey McClaine. Pleasure to meet you, sweetheart.”

I don’t like that he’s using the same word Deacon used. It makes my eye twitch.

“Pleasure,” I say, voice cracking.

Kasey points to my other side. The other man, who looks pretty similar sits there, watching us. His hair is buzzed, and he has a tattoo of a skull on his forearm with a big scar through it.

“That’s my brother, Elijah,” he says.

Elijah leans over and shakes my hand too. I’m not sure why I’m getting so much attention, but it’s making me uncomfortable.

“Pleasure to meet you,” I say politely, knowing one wrong move could upset Aiden. “Let me just go get the food, and y’all can get to eating.”

Kasey gives me a smile that feels patronizing. Skin crawling, I go to the kitchen and bring back the mashed potatoes, broccoli greens, and bread I whipped up last minute.

Then, I awkwardly take the last seat beside Aiden, and everybody fills their plates.

I don’t know why I’m here, but it’s like being put on display. I’m painfully aware that it’s impossible to hide my curves in this dress. I wonder if Aiden is using me somehow. My cheeks are hot the entire dinner. Kasey keeps looking at me like he’s got every right to stare.

I keep my mouth shut and play dumb. The men eat, and I listen to them, piecing together what they’re doing.

The McClaines own the land above Ryder Ranch. Their property and my stepfather’s new land are separated only by the furthermost corner. I’m unsure what a lot of the words they use mean, but it sounds a bit like they’re making a deal with a builder or a company for the land on the other side of Ryder Ranch.

I wonder if Deacon knows. It doesn’t sound like something he’d like.

They wind down. Silently, I make the empty plates disappear and bring out drinks. Aiden has cigarillos in a wooden box; I set those on the table, even though I hate the smell. Pretty soon, the dining room is hazy and the conversation is loud. I clean the kitchen, relieved Aiden isn’t making me stay.

Around ten, the men get up. I’m still wiping the countertops as they go down the hall. My neck prickles, and I turn. Kasey walks in, giving me that look that says he’s hungry, but not for what I just made.

He opens his mouth to speak. Mentally, I cringe back. Out of nowhere, Aiden appears at his elbow. He’s boozed up but cognizant. A vein pumps in his flushed neck.

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