Free Every Little Thing About You (Yellow Rose Trilogy 1) by Lori Wick Page B

Baskets, pots, bowls, and platters
    had been laid out. Towels were lifted and the contents
    displayed. Plates in hand, the congregation lined up to
    make their choices. A few mothers had to coax children
    from the water's edge, but most of the younger set were
    ready. \
    "If s time to eat," Liberty told Laura and Zach.
    "Do you think they catch fish in here?" Zach asked, his
    eyes on the creek bed and the minnows that swam near the
    bank.
    'Til bet they do. You should ask Mr. Miller if you can
    fish here sometime."
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    "I could too," Laura put in. "I won't poke anyone with
    the hook."
    "Papa won't let you fish yet, Laura/' Zach said, his
    voice regretful. "You might get hurt"
    Laura looked stubborn over this until she caught her
    brother's look. It was impossible to get mad at him when
    he wanted her to fish.
    "We could ask," she said in a quiet voice, all stubbornness
    gone. "You could ask, Zach...you could."
    Zach contemplated this. His father wouldn't get angry,
    but if he said no, Laura would be disappointed. Zach's soft
    heart could hardly handle the thought. He wished she
    hadn't even asked.
    "Are you ready to eat?" Duffy called as he came toward
    them. Liberty had come off the quilt she had laid out and
    was holding the plates, but she didn't answer for the children.
    She was too busy trying not to watch Slater. He was
    surrounded by a group of women.
    Zach stood staring up at his father until Duffy lowered
    his brow in puzzlement Laura was pulling on her
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    brother's sleeve.
    "Papa," Zach began, "could Laura come fishing with
    us sometime?"
    "Sure, Zach. I think thaf s a great idea. You were very
    kind to think of her."
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    There was no missing the little boy's sigh. He grinned
    at his sister, who grinned right back, and then smiled up at
    his father in a way that always melted the hearts of those
    who loved him.
    "Lef s eat," Duffy said softly, and the four proceeded
    across the grass. Liberty had a plate for Slater, but she suddenly
    felt awkward. She approached the food tables, fully
    expecting him to already have a plate in hand. She hadn't
    counted on Laura.
    "Here," Laura said, as they neared the group that Slater
    was a part of and she took a dinner plate from her sister.
    Her family watched as she stepped right into the midst and
    handed it to Slater.
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    "Here's your plate, Slater. Are you going to come to our
    quilt?"
    "I am. Thank you, Laura. I'll just come and stand in line
    with you right now. Excuse me, ladies."
    Liberty could have sunk into the grass. She hadn't put
    Laura up to anything, but the looks on the female faces that
    watched Slater leave the circle were certainly speculative,
    or were they just fascinated with this new man?
    "I hope I didn't hold you up," Slater said as they gathered
    at the rear of the line.
    "Not at all," Duff put in before Liberty could speak.
    "We hope we didn't interrupt your conversation."
    Slater didn't answer, but Liberty could have hugged
    her stepfather. He must have seen her strained, surprised
    look when Laura took things into her own hands. Indeed,
    her stepfather was bending over to speak to Laura right
    then. It wasn't hard to guess that she was being reprimanded
    over interrupting.
    "Did Griffin happen to tell you how long he would
    be?" Slater asked Liberty.
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    "I didn't talk to him at all. Did he have to stay at the
    jail?"
    "Yes. It was a busy night last night. He didn't get in
    until quite late."
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    Liberty nodded.
    "Do you never work on Saturday nights?" Slater asked,
    no longer able to squelch his curiosity over the arrangement.
    "Not usually, but that's why I go in on Monday and
    Tuesday mornings, so he can do a little catching up on his
    rest."
    It was on the tip of Slater's tongue to ask how long she
    had been at this, along with a dozen other questions, but he
    felt he'd asked enough. Pastor Caron had taken most of the
    service that morning to tell them what a prayer warrior
    Nehemiah had been.