“Oh, but you did, my love. You stomped around and slammed things and said words I had never heard before. Your performance nearly turned my hair gray.”
He turned toward her with the widest, goofiest grin ever recorded. The others, fully expecting a firecracker response, as usual, or at least a small eruption, watched in amazement as he looped an arm around her shoulder and exacted a rich, deep kiss as payment for her teasing.
“It’s just a cryin’ shame, Mrs. Forrester, how you exaggerate the facts. But I reckon I’ll have to forgive you, considerin’.” His voice had dropped into its lowest register, and his green eyes had darkened into viridian.
“I reckon you will.”
“The store?” Practical Hannah dragged them back to the original subject.
“Ah, yes.” After he and his wife had exchanged a long, slow look that excluded everyone else in the room, Ben took a sip of coffee and began to describe the location and layout of the store. “Got all the shelves in line, counters constructed, pot belly stove put together, and so on. Gonna start sendin’ some of my shipments on over there, now that I’ve got a couple people hired and things are ready to be up and runnin’.”
“Sounds like you need to plan a date for your Grand Openin’,” Gabe pointed out.
Brightening even more, Ben considered. “Now that’s a fine idea. Cam and I will work on it and let you know. Y’all should come down and help us celebrate.”
“Depends,” said Gabriel, scooping up another spoo
nful of turnip from its rich pool of gravy. “What kinda hotel accommodations are gonna be available there?”
Camellia, meanwhile, was handing around the plate of muffins and halfway chuckling to herself. “Ask him the name of his new store.”
Dutifully, there was a chorus of, “What’s the name?”
Ben, chewing busily, mumbled something and ignored any follow-up.
With a wink and a wicked smile, she confided, “Forrester’s Mercantile.”
“Such a fascinatin’ show of originality,” commented the doctor. “Say, I’ll have some more of them potatoes, if nobody else has got a hankerin’ for ’em.”
“And you’ll differentiate how?” Paul looked up from the murmurings with his bride-to-be to ask.
“Number One and Number Two?”
“Don’t be an ass. It’s just gonna be Turnabout and Manifest. How hard is that?”
Despite all the banter that was being circulated, Paul had nothing but admiration for his friend. “This is quite the empire you’re buildin’ up, son. You got plans to expand more in the future? Maybe Winhaven. Or even Dallas?”
“Dunno.” Ben paused in the middle of spearing a cooked carrot to send that same goofy grin to his wife. “Lotsa possibilities.”
“How often do you think you’ll need to go there to make sure everything is being done as you want?” Letitia, attempting to get in the spirit of the conversation, asked politely.
“Not sure yet. Forty miles ain’t that far, considerin’, so I could be down and back inside of a couplea days. We just took longer this trip because—well...” The tips of Ben’s ears were beginning to flame, a sure sign of embarrassment. “Cam and I spent some time together, just the two of us, goin’ off to do...”
“Some canoodln’,” Gabe hooted in laughter. “Spell it right out for us, Ben. No wonder you’ve been wearin’ that off-the-top grin since we walked in the door.”
“Yeah,” Paul chimed in, chuckling. “You seem mighty happy about how things are goin’.”
Silence for a long moment, during which the coffeepot burbled to remind the diners of its presence. A few moths determined to get at the lamps committed suicide by slamming their velvety bodies against the window glass, and the low-burning fire sent a sudden cascade of sparks up the chimney.
The doctor paused in his non-stop consumption of victuals to peer curiously from one Forrester to the other. Deliberately he put down his fork, cocking his head to one side like some hungry robin eyeing a worm. “Unless there’s somethin’ else.”
With a tender movement, Ben took his wife’s hand in his own to hold tightly and possessively. “Whatdya think, darlin’?”
Her face held all the luminosity of an oil painting. “I think it’s time, Ben, dear.” Her glance went around the table, touching upon each and every one of her relatives and guests. “We’re going to have a baby.”
Letting out a shriek to wake the dead, Molly almost jack-knifed out of her chair in a rush to reach her sister for an expansive hug. “Oh, Camellia, Camellia! Oh, that’s splendid news!”
For a few delightful moments all was chaotic. The sisters joined together with an excited embrace, and the men were exhorting congratulations and best wishes. There were a few tears, fluttery confusion of words with one talking over the other, and some fervent back-slapping for Ben, who appeared slightly sheepish and yet proud, at the same time.