master of the Mason Ranch was behind the scenes, but right now, I’d just about reached my limit of his hard, emphatic Ben-ja-mins at every turn.
“It’s seven on the hour,” he said, as though that was of vital importance. “It’s time to announce—”
“That the food is out,” I said, giving a tight smile. “Yes, I know. You’ve mentioned it. Also, I’ve done this once or twice.”
“Not like this.”
Theodore gave me his standard disapproving look, the same one he’d worn since the day my uncle passed and all this glory was shoved into my hands. He never thought I was worthy or able to take those reins, and he was right. I was fifteen shades of green back then, and only cared about the unthinkable manipulation that had just twisted my life.
I liked to think that I’d done it justice. That I’d taken on a ranch I didn’t know how to run, a woman I was forced to marry, and the hatred of the one person that ever mattered with some amount of grace. Because in all the chaos, God dropped the sweetest little angel into my arms.
I was bucking the system tonight, however, and Theodore wasn’t happy about it. Setting out the food on the long dining table I hated, with the small serving plates my late wife called dessert plates. I figured that guests could serve themselves and continue walking around and talking while they ate. I sure as hell did it all the time. I rarely sat down to eat anymore, except for breakfast with Abigail every morning.
But using dessert plates for regular food evidently wasn’t done in social settings.
Well, it would be done now.
I couldn’t abide another insufferable sit-down with these people, all pretending interest, when we rarely spoke the other 364 days. It was ludicrous, and if I had to have all these damn hypocrites in my house, whispering about my singleness and ability to raise a little girl by myself, then they could be grown up enough to walk, talk, and eat at the same time. If they didn’t like it, they could leave. Hell, maybe I was on to something.
“The dessert alone is reason to sit down and savor it,” he said, looking physically pained by the thought of not obliging it. “Imported chocolate cake, Benjamin. It’s divine. And not something one stands up to eat.”
“Why on earth would you import cake, Theodore?” I asked.
“Your sweet wife and uncle would—”
“—say nothing, because they can’t,” I finished for him. “They’re dead. Please go make sure our guests’ coats are secure.”
Striding away before Theodore could puff up again, I snatched the silver handbell from the sideboard.
“Friends,” I said loudly as I rang it, clearing my throat as the word stuck in my throat. “Ladies,” I said, nodding to a dapper older woman with a tall, intricate hat. “Gentlemen. Welcome to my home.”
There were murmurs and smiles and the rustle of dresses as people turned to face me from all around the room and the parlor doorway.
“I’m honored that you could all be here tonight,” I lied. “I know the weather looks like it could be stirring up something soon, so thank you for braving it. Some of you are new to the event, while others have been coming since my uncle kicked off this shindig in—” I narrowed my eyes toward an elderly man in a topcoat. “What was it, Mr. Alford? Eighteen seventy-five?”
“Before that,” the old man rasped with a grin. “After the war. Back before your father left Texas and the Mason brothers would do anything for a party.”
I joined the room in amused laughter, in spite of the sour taste the mention of my father left in my mouth. I felt nothing for the man who’d sold me out.
“Well, I’m sure you would know,” I said, raising a glass of bourbon, to which the older man smiled among the chuckling with a shrug to his wife. “But seriously, to you all, we’re a small community here, and this is one night every year that Uncle Travis loved. Having you all in his home to break bread and mingle for the holiday.” The front door squeaked from the other room as the bustling sound of a late arrival reached my ears. I heard Theodore’s tone pitch oddly as he asked for a coat or wrap, and I wondered if it was another of my investors from the city. He despised anyone who openly talked about money. “I realize we still have a few days