up here and we’re playing.
Her body had settled down, the sizzling, prickling sensations receding from her skin. She sank to the ground, knees drawn up, waiting for the storm clouds to move away completely. Rubin didn’t get up, he just remained lying on his back, his hands locked behind his head. Diego came to them. He went to his brother first, digging through his backpack to get Rubin a bottle of water and a packet of something that looked like energy bars. Then he came to her. He gave her the same things before going around the open field collecting the targets Rubin had placed.
Some were lying flat on the ground. Some were standing a mere foot off the ground. One was about two feet high. All were made of different components. Diego collected each one using tongs and inserted them in what looked like hazardous material bags. He wrote on each one separately before putting the target into the bag. The one with the multiple strikes he took some time collecting. She wanted to see what he had written. Those strikes had mostly been directed to the flat targets on the ground.
Rubin took about half an hour to recover and then he was up as if nothing had happened. “That was impressive, Jonquille. You really are my lightning bug. You don’t get to get snippy when I call you that.”
She gave him a chin lift and narrowed her eyes at him, but she took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. “I never get snippy.” That was a lie, but she considered it a small one.
Diego was back, and he gave a snort of derision, reaching down to snag his brother’s pack. Rubin’s hand got there first.
“You could carry my pack,” Jonquille offered and tried batting her eyelashes at Diego.
He rolled his eyes. “You’re going to have to work on that. Carry your own pack. If we’re going to make Mama Patricia’s, we’ve got to get a move on. I want to watch the sunset from her porch.”
“You’re not very nice,” Jonquille said. “At all. If you ever get a girlfriend, I’m telling her to dump you fast.”
“I kiss like sin. It makes up for a lot, or so you tell me.” He kept walking.
“You’d better do a lot more than kiss like sin,” she muttered under her breath.
“I have excellent hearing,” Rubin reminded. “You can think about all the things I can do better than kissing like sin, but not him. In fact, don’t think about him at all.”
Jonquille burst out laughing. The two brothers really were a little crazy.
The Sawyers’ home had a large porch that ran the length of the house. There were two rocking chairs, a stool, a long chest and a stump placed on the porch for company to sit on. Patricia Sawyer sat in one of the rocking chairs, but when Diego, Rubin and Jonquille approached, she stood, wrapping her hand around the post holding up the roof overhead. She smiled a welcome, but her gaze was on Jonquille, watching warily.
Rubin strode right up to her. “Mama Patricia,” he greeted and kissed her cheek. “How have you been?”
Diego did the same. Neither man hesitated, although Patricia Sawyer blushed and looked as if she drew back just a little.
Rubin reached for Jonquille, pulling her right beneath his shoulder, very proprietorial. “This is Jonquille. My woman. Jonquille, Patricia Sawyer. The best of the best here on the mountain. She’s always treated Diego and me like family.”
Jonquille smiled shyly. “I’m so pleased to meet you. Rubin and Diego talk so much about you and your daughter and sons, I looked forward to meeting you.”
Patricia raised her gaze from Jonquille to Rubin and then back. “You have a very pretty name, Jonquille. Rubin’s mother was reputed to love Easter lilies, did you know that? I wonder what she would think of you.”
“Since she’s nearly better on a game trail than I am,” Diego said, “I’d say she’d be all for Rubin taking her for his wife. She’s also good at making a berry cobbler. Great, Mama Patricia,” he corrected himself. “Almost, but not quite, rivals yours.”
Patricia was really studying Jonquille now. “Nearly as good as you on a game trail is high praise, Diego. Why do I think you might be selling her a little short?”
“I’m a man, ma’am. I’ve got an ego,” he said without repentance.
“Are you as good?” Patricia asked.
“No. I’m close. I don’t have his experience, but I’m very close,” Jonquille