Hungry Heart: Konigsburg, Texas, Book 8 (33 page)

Andy frowned. “Don’t we need to go? I thought we were meeting the King and Darcy.”

“They’re back at my place. They’ll wait.” He sat on her couch, pulling her down beside him. “I’ve got something to show you first.”

“Show me?” She frowned. “What?”

He reached into his pocket, fumbling about as much as he was afraid he would, and pulled out the velvet box. Beside him, Andy seemed to go very still. He handed it to her wordlessly, mainly because he couldn’t think of any words to say.

She opened the box slowly, staring down at the ring inside. Three diamonds marched down the center of the setting, the two smaller pear-shaped ones framing the large round one. Sapphire chips nestled on either side of the center diamonds. The white gold setting was carved in delicate filigree around the gems.

Andy blinked, still staring.

He took a quick breath. “According to my mom, it belonged to my Great Aunt Evangelina, who brought it with her to San Antonio when she and her husband took off about three steps ahead of Porfirio Diaz and his army. I never knew her.”

He really hoped Andy would say something soon because he was running out of things to say himself. But she stayed silent.

“You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to. Like I say, I never knew Evangelina. We could go looking for something else next week, maybe in Austin.” All of a sudden he wished he’d shown the ring to Clem first. Or maybe Deirdre. Maybe this was a huge mistake.

“It’s so beautiful,” Andy said softly. “I’ve never… It’s just so beautiful.” She blinked fast and he saw the shimmer of tears.

Oh shit.
He could deal with almost any situation except for a crying woman. That he not only couldn’t deal with, he didn’t want to try.

He took the ring out of the box, balancing it in his suddenly clumsy fingers, then slid it carefully onto her left hand. “A little loose.”

Andy shook her head, taking another deep breath. “It’s fine. It’s perfect.” She turned toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her face against his chest. “Thank you. Thank you so much. It’s just right.”

“Okay.” He stroked his hand along her hair, her shoulder, her back. In another five minutes they’d be flat on the couch.

And they had things to do.

He kissed the top of her head. “Hold the thought. For now, we need to go cook some barbecue.”

She caught her breath in a kind of shaky laugh, then smiled up at him. “Yes, we do. Let’s go kick Lew’s butt.”

He grinned again. God, he loved this woman. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Harris rolled his smoker into place at their assigned spot in the county fairgrounds. Chico had already set up his own smoker nearby, and he and Andy were assembling the rest of the booth, the makeshift counter where they’d put the plates to sell and the canopy overhead that would protect them from sunstroke. A row of empty coolers lined the back of the booth, probably more contributions from the Burnside family, who seemed to be taking a proprietary interest in their team.

Their team.
Harris frowned. All around them teams wore matching T-shirts and ball caps. Most had signs and banners hanging over their booths. He hadn’t even thought about a name for their team, let alone matching outfits.

“Hey, Chico,” he called, piling wood chunks into the chimney lighter.

Chico half turned, giving him one of those blood-chilling looks that were actually his normal expression. “What?”

“Do we have a name? What did you enter us as?”

Chico shrugged. “We’re Barbecue Royale. All I could think of at the last minute when I had to turn in the paperwork. I forgot to ask before that. Sorry.”

Barbecue Royale?
Harris couldn’t decide whether he felt embarrassed or smug.
Royal Barbecue with the King. Yeah, baby!

He grinned as he applied a match to the rolled-up newspaper in the bottom of the chimney. “Thanks.”

“No problem. My cousin Tito made us a sign. Where’s Darcy?”

And just like that, Harris’s mood soured. He’d left Darcy in the kitchen at Chico’s duplex, chopping up cabbage and apples and ignoring him. She hadn’t been ready to drive to the fairgrounds yet she said. She had to make her goddamned slaw.

Not that she’d called it that. But he did, or at least he did to himself. Outwardly, he’d given her a tight smile and headed out the door.

“She’s back at the duplex,” he said, trying to unclench his jaw. “Making slaw.”

Andy shook her head. “I’ll go pick her up. She shouldn’t miss this.”

Which would save him from having to drive back there to talk her out of spending her evening chopping cabbage. As an alternative to spending the evening with him. Hell, he was coming in second to sauerkraut.

He folded his arms and watched the wood chunks smolder in the chimney. Sooner or later he was going to have to figure out what was going on with him and Darcy. Or not going on, as the case might be. He had no idea what would happen when the cook-off was over. Clearly, she didn’t need to apprentice with him anymore. She’d already learned the basics. That, plus her own cooking savvy, put her way ahead of most of the people here, although they’d probably never admit it.

So would she take a walk once the contest was over? The possibility didn’t exactly delight him.

On the other hand, she’d invited him to stay with her, possibly indefinitely. Of course, he’d sort of bobbled his answer, largely because he was so surprised that she’d invited him in the first place.

Unfortunately, he had a feeling Darcy wasn’t somebody who gave out a lot of second chances. You grabbed the first one or you lost. And he hadn’t grabbed it fast enough. He had to figure out a way to change her mind about that. Of course, that meant figuring out where he wanted them to go. And where they might end up.

Chico regarded the stack of logs at the side of the booth with narrowed eyes. “You think we got enough wood?”

Harris shrugged. “Yeah, enough to get through the night anyway. We can bring over more tomorrow from the logs I’ve got stacked in your backyard.”

“What happened to that stuff we threw up on the hillside? Did it make it through the flood?”

Harris grimaced. He hadn’t brought the wood back down from the hillside yet. He’d been too involved with the insurance adjustor to think about anything else. “Some of it. Most of it’s still up there. I’ll have to get everything cleaned up after we finish this cook-off.”

Chico shrugged. “Make it a Sunday and I’ll come out too. I can bring part of the family. Most of the time they’re a pain in the ass, but they’re good at taking care of disasters. Having a small army can help.”

For a moment, Harris wondered what it would be like to have a huge family that kicked in when you got knocked around in a flood. As opposed to using that flood as a handy source of blackmail. These days, it pretty much went without saying that the Temples wouldn’t spit on him if he was on fire. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Chico picked up his own chimney starter, packing it with wood chunks. “No problem. Want a beer? We’ve got all night.”

“Sure.”
All night.
He wondered how much luck he’d have getting Darcy to stay with him during his shift. Maybe he should just tell her he loved her and be done with it.

Except he had a feeling that would scare her off faster than anything else he could say.

Andy opened the door of the duplex, calling “Darcy, are you still here?” even though she’d already seen the SUV in the driveway. She figured it was a good idea to announce herself rather than startle a woman with a knife in her hand.

Darcy appeared in the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on a towel. “Yeah, I’m here. What do you need?”

“You. You’re missing everything at the fairgrounds. I came to pick you up.”

“Oh.” She shrugged. “Maybe later.”

Andy narrowed her eyes. “Try to keep that enthusiasm under control. You’re liable to freak everybody out.”

Darcy shook her head, turning back to the kitchen. “I’m just not in the mood, okay? I may get there, but I’m not feeling it right now.”

“Which is why you need to come out to the fairgrounds with me. It’s one big party over there.” Andy followed her into the kitchen. “What smells so great? Is that the cobbler?”

“Yeah, which is why I can’t go anywhere at the moment. I’ve got a bunch of cobblers in the oven.” She leaned back against the counter, folding her arms. “I’ll drive myself over sometime tonight.”

Andy pulled out a chair from the kitchen table. “I can wait. Right now they’re just getting the fires set up anyway. The party will start later, when the meat’s on and cooking. People go visiting back and forth. It’s really a lot of fun.” Actually, as she recalled, it was the only part of the whole process that she enjoyed, although Lew’s snootiness with the other contestants sometimes put a damper on it.

Darcy shrugged. “Okay. You don’t have to wait, though. I can get over there on my own.”

Andy frowned slightly. “What’s up, Darcy? You have a fight with the King?”

She sighed, shaking her head, then slumped back against the counter again. “What’s going to happen with you and Chico when this is all over? Have you talked about it?”

Andy’s frown deepened. They hadn’t really told anybody yet, except for Chico’s mother. And Eddie and Lorraine. And Lew. And probably most of the Burnside family knew by now. The hell with it. “We’re getting married.”

Darcy blinked. “Are you? That’s great.” Her expression shifted out of disgruntled for the first time since Andy had entered the kitchen. “When?”

Andy blew out a breath. “I’m not exactly sure. Maybe next week when things settle down a little.” She held out her left hand a little shyly. She’d thought about wearing the ring on a chain around her neck until the cook-off was over, but she couldn’t bear to take it off.

Darcy stepped forward, taking her hand so that she could see the ring more clearly. She whistled softly. “That’s some rock.”

Andy’s cheeks flushed warm. “It’s a family ring. From his great aunt.”

Darcy grinned. “Cool. You guys are good together.” Her smile dimmed slightly.

“So what’s up with you and the King?” Andy asked before she could pull all the way back into her shell.

Darcy shrugged. “Got me. Something, I guess. But I’m not sure what. I’m not used to this.”

Andy frowned. “Used to what?”

“I don’t know…
Relationships
, I guess.” Darcy drew quote signs in the air. “I’m not used to long-term.”

“And this is long-term?” Andy asked carefully.

“Maybe. It could be, I guess. Potentially.” Darcy grimaced. “Like I said, I’m no good with this.”

Andy pushed herself to her feet. “Come on to the fairgrounds. Have a few beers. Maybe everything will seem clearer if you do.”

“Maybe.” She shrugged again. “I suppose it can’t hurt. Let’s get the cobblers out of the oven. Then I’ll be good to go.”

Darcy stared around the county fairgrounds in wonder. The open field had been transformed into a small city of booths, some with brightly colored canopies and flags, most with printed signs across the front.
Barbecue Raiders, BBQ Bombers, Original Banzai Barbecue, Bone Merchants, Hog Heaven, Pig Stickers.
The names went on and on, each row of booths a small street of barbecue brag.

She followed Andy down one of the rows, feeling a quick burst of adrenaline.
Competition
. Yeah, she could do this. She did this all the time.

Chico and Harris were sprawled on a couple of patio lounges behind their counter. A three-foot-long purple-and-gold banner was draped across the front:
Barbecue Royale.

Darcy frowned. “When did we get a name?”

“His idea.” Harris nodded in Chico’s general direction. “Like it?”

“Sure. Why not?”

Andy pulled up a folding chair, smiling at Chico. “I think it’s great. Not too obnoxious, not too demure.”

Chico snorted. “Nobody has ever called me demure in my entire life, Ms. Wells.”

Somewhere a few booths down from them, a radio blared salsa. A man in an apron and a chef’s hat began to dance energetically in the aisle with a woman in cutoffs and a halter top. They were joined almost immediately by other couples from other booths.

“Hey, y’all want to try this?” someone called. A man stepped up in front of the booth with an aluminum pitcher. “Best damn margaritas in the place.”

“Watch it there, Hoffman. I’ll match mine against yours any day.” A man in a Hawaiian shirt a couple of booths over brandished a ladle above a plastic food container.

“Texas tea, baby,” somebody yelled. “Beats your poor-ass margaritas all to hell.”

“Fightin’ words, Sandoz.” The first man shook his head. “Now y’all are going to have to put your tea where your mouth is. Or your mouth where your tea is.”

Laughter sounded up and down the row. Darcy raised an eyebrow as the margarita purveyor moved on. “Somebody started early.”

Chico shrugged. “Party time. Probably best to stick to beer, though, and keep some limits on that. There’s a long night ahead of us.”