Home for the Holidays by Rochelle Alers

Author:Rochelle Alers
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2014-12-01T16:00:00+00:00

1 cup milk

1 cup self-rising flour

¼ teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon ground black pepper

¼ teaspoon sage

6-7 sausage patties

Place sausage patties in cast-iron skillet, and use a wooden spoon to crumble as they cook. Turn heat to medium low. Stir until sausage cooks through and drippings appear. Add seasonings. Add one cup of self-rising flour. Mix well until there is no dry flour or lumps left. Pour milk into skillet and continue to stir until you reach the desired texture.

Collier walked into the kitchen, stopping short when he saw Tracy sitting at the breakfast nook, sipping coffee, while flipping the pages of a magazine. He thought she would’ve slept in because schools were closed.

Her head came around when he moved closer. “What are you doing up so early?” she asked, smiling.

Reaching into an overhead cabinet, Collier took down a coffee mug. “I could ask you the same thing.” He filled the mug with coffee from the carafe on the countertop.

Tracy pushed several twists off her forehead, her eyes narrowing behind the lenses of her glasses. “You know I’m a creature of habit. I tried to force myself to stay in bed, but once the sun came up, I decided to get up.”

Slipping on the bench seat opposite his sister, he peered at her over the rim of the mug. “The girls were still up giggling when I got in last night,” he said, then took a sip of the steaming brew. “What’s up with girls that they have to giggle so much?”

“You’ll know the answer once you have a daughter. And don’t look at me like that, Scrappy, because I ain’t scared of you.”

Collier struggled not to laugh. “You just can’t let Scrappy rest in peace, can you?”

Tracy stuck out the tip of her tongue at him. “Nope, because underneath the spit shine and polish Master Sergeant Ward you’ll always be Scrappy.” She paused. “What time did you get in last night?”

He lifted broad shoulders under his faded sweatshirt. “It wasn’t late, maybe around ten.”

“Did you ask Iris if she would go out with you?”

“What’s this, sis? An inquisition?”

She pushed up the glasses that had slipped down the bridge of her nose. “No.”

Collier drained the mug, rinsed it, and placed it in the dishwasher. Then he walked to Tracy, leaned down, and kissed her hair. “Yes, I did ask her,” he whispered. “And she said she would.” He stood straight. “I’m going out.”

“Where are you going?” Tracy asked, grinning.

Turning on the heels of his running shoes, Collier waved to her as he walked out of the kitchen. “See you later, Tracy,” he drawled. He didn’t need her monitoring his whereabouts. But then he had to remember that Tracy was always in mother mode and a tad overprotective when it came to him and Layla. If he’d managed to survive serving in two war zones, then he had nothing to worry about while on his home turf.

Opening the front door, he stepped out onto the porch. The rain had stopped and the warmth had returned.

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