In Strange Woods - Claire Cray Page 0,78
pinned back from her temples with two finely beaded barrettes. Though she was older now, James would have recognized her from the photo without an introduction. She was staring at him now in shock, and after a moment, her face flooded with emotion.
“Hi, Deenie,” James said, and was strangely unsurprised when she rushed forward to give him a hug.
“Honey, I’m so sorry,” Deenie whispered fiercely, holding him tight. “I’m so sorry about Grace.”
“Thank you,” James said, hugging her back a little awkwardly.
“You must think I’m bonkers.” Deenie slowly pulled away, holding him by the shoulders to look at him, her eyes shining with tears. “God, I just can’t believe any of this. But I’m so glad to see you here, sweetheart. It’s been so long.”
“I don’t know what to say,” James said, and then his mind stuttered. “Been so long? Been so long since…”
“Since you I last saw you, when you were just a little baby.”
“I don’t know,” James said in hushed dismay, and a weary tremble went through him. “I don’t know anything. She didn’t tell me anything.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Deenie breathed again, hugging him briefly again before patting his back and turning him toward the kitchen. “Let’s get dinner ready while we wait for your brother.”
“You know?” James looked at her desperately as she steered him through the archway and around the corner into a large, rustic kitchen and dining area. “That he’s my brother?”
“I’d be a fool to deny it now that I've seen you in person.” Deenie sat him down in a chair. “Hunter, will you come drain these taters while I take out the salmon?”
Hunter followed them into the kitchen, slipping James an encouraging little smile before pushing up his sleeves and picking up a giant silver stock pot from the stove. James’s eyes automatically followed the flexing of his forearms, although he was too overwhelmed at the moment to fully appreciate them.
The distant sound of a four-wheeler made him look quickly toward the rear of the house. “Is that Beau?” he asked hopefully.
“Better be.” Deenie said, pulling a roasting pan out of the oven and setting it on the stove. The scent of baked salmon, lemon and butter filled the air. “I sent Fawn out to get him.”
James stood up from his chair, restless. “Can I help?”
“You can get us some drinks out of the fridge there, and help yourself. I’ll take one of them Rainiers.”
“Same for me,” Hunter said.
James took out three tall cans and set them on the tabletop, taking in the atmosphere as he popped them open one by one. The retro cabin kitchen was all gleaming wood and warm light, the kind of place that begged for easygoing, laughter-filled gatherings that went late into the night. The window over the sink looked out on the dark woods outside, faintly illuminated by the indoor lights.
A door opened somewhere in the house, and Beau’s voice rang out cheerfully over the joyful barking of Ivy and Chewy outside. “Sweet baby Ja-ames!”
Feeling a rush of relief, James moved toward the sound and nearly collided with Beau on the threshold of the kitchen. Beau swept him up in a hug, laughing and spinning him around before grabbing his head and kissing both cheeks. His face was so full of life James was surprised it didn’t zap him.
“You look spectacular,” Beau crooned, and turned them both to face Hunter and Deenie. “Well, if it isn’t Hunter Quaid.”
Hunter looked at him with as much surprise as James. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
“No, but I know your name. You’re well thought of in these parts.”
“Glad to hear it,” Hunter said, disarmed. “And good to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Beau kept his arm slung around James’s neck as he addressed Deenie. “Aw, Deenie, I knew you had to be wrapped up in this somehow.”
Deenie was standing by the stove staring at them both with a hand on her cheek, eyes glistening. “I never let myself believe it, Beau.”
“No idea what you mean,” Beau said casually, like there was nothing particularly extraordinary about any of this. “But you’d better tell us soon, or James might lose it.”
“Well, dinner’s almost ready,” Deenie said with a sniff, whipping out a bandana to dab her eyes as she turned back to the oven. “You can set the table. Hunter, grab a masher and get to mashing those. James, would you get the rolls out of that bag over there?”
James dutifully joined the crew, lining up some store-bought dinner rolls on a baking sheet