Page 30 of Boston
Boston dished himself pork, potatoes, and a healthy scoop of the Cookie Monster salad, joining her with his plate and two bowls as well.
The silence settled between them, but Boston didn’t find it uncomfortable. A little tense, maybe, as he waited for her to say something. When she didn’t, he reached up and swiped his cowboy hat from his head.
“Should I say grace?”
Cora looked like he’d flicked ice water in her face, but she recovered quickly and nodded. He caught her pressing her lips together as she ducked her head, and Boston assumed that he would be praying over their meal that night.
For him, all of his earlier anxiety returned, because praying with someone felt intimate and personal, and he didn’t even know if Cora was religious.
Still, Boston clung to his hopes and his beliefs and his knowledge that God would provide every good thing for anyone who loved Him. And he opened his mouth, fully expecting the Lord to provide the perfect prayer.
CHAPTER
TEN
“Dear Lord,” Boston said, and all of Cora’s qualms about saying grace disappeared.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d prayed aloud, and she determined that she would test out those two words tonight before she went to bed.
Dear Lord.
Boston said them so easily, and he seemed to know exactly what to follow them with as well.
“We’re really grateful to be gathered here tonight for this dinner date,” he said. “I’m so thankful that Cora spent her time, money, and energy to make this food. Please bless that it will be delicious and keep us both healthy and strong and able to continue working around the lodge and resort. Bless Cora with anything that she needs as she continues to settle in to her fresh start here in Coral Canyon, and bless my family—wherever they are—that they will have the things that they stand in need of that Thou seest fit to give them.”
He hesitated for just a beat and added, “I’m a little worried about this cookie salad, Lord, so if you can make sure I don’t get sick from it, that would be all I ask for today.”
Cora grinned, completely caught off guard by such a small, intimate detail in the prayer. She was used to bigger things likebless my family, bless this food, help us to stay safe,and the like.
Perhaps this was how people prayed all the time, and she’d just never heard it. Perhaps she’d simply gotten too far away from talking to God to know.
“Are you okay?” Boston asked.
Cora’s eyes flew open, and she looked up. “Yes,” she said. “I didn’t—I guess?—”
“You weren’t even listening.” He grinned at her. “I said amen, like an hour ago.”
She burst out laughing as pure amusement danced through her.
He picked up his bowl of Cookie Monster salad and sniffed it. “Are there oranges in this?”
“Mandarin oranges,” she said. “It’s literally just whipped cream and fruit and cookies. It’s not going to poison you.”
He looked at her with those dancing eyes that followed her in her dreams and took his first bite. A moan came out of his mouth too, but Cora didn’t think that it was faked the way hers had been.
“This is really good,” he said.
“Here’s a tip.” She shredded off a bite of her pork. “When a woman cooks for you, don’t sound surprised when it’s good.”
Boston chuckled and shook his head. “No, ma’am. I didn’t mean to.”
And she knew he hadn’t, and that he understood she was also flirting with him.
“So tell me about the hunting expedition,” she said.
Boston waved his spoon and then scooped up another bite—this one with just a mandarin orange and a blob of whipped cream.
“It was fine,” he said. “The dad got a deer, which he really enjoyed telling his sons about, and everyone made it back alive.”
