Missouri Catch by Gray Helen

Author:Gray, Helen [Gray, Helen]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Forget Me Not Romances, a division of Winged Publications
Published: 2015-06-01T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

When Justin drove up a long circular drive and parked in front of a large ranch home, a man whose build and looks resembled him emerged through the front door. The woman Dale recognized as Justin’s sister, Holly, followed him down the sidewalk.

“That’s my brother, Kent, with Holly.”

Dale tried to relax, but her stomach tumbled as they got out of the truck to meet them. Justin clasped his brother’s hand and gave his sister a hug. Then he stepped back and introduced him to Dale.

Kent extended a hand. “Glad you could join us, Dale.”

Holly embraced her warmly. “I’m happy to see you again, and anxious to introduce you to the rest of the family.”

They entered a cheerful living room furnished with a floral sofa and a navy recliner. A baby walker sat in front of the white stone fireplace at one end of the room. Two women came from the next room. The younger one had long ash brown hair and carried an infant in her arms. The older woman looked to be in her late fifties or early sixties, but there was a sparkle in her blue eyes and a spring in her movements that belied her age. Both women wore broad smiles.

“This is my mother,” Justin said as the older woman grasped Dale’s hands.

“I’m Molly Whitaker. It’s good to have a friend of Justin’s visit us. I was delighted when he called and said he might bring someone.” Her voice was well modulated, her hair attractively done up in a mid-length style.

Justin chuckled. “Mom, Sis, meet Dale Denning. She teaches at Central High School.”

“Thank you for having me, Mrs. Whitaker.”

“Please call me Molly.”

“And call me Lynn.” The younger woman shifted the baby to her left arm and gave Dale a quick hug with her right.

“Henry, Mike and Jim are out back tending the grill,” Molly said. “Henry is my husband, and Jim is Lynn’s.”

There was a quality of motherhood about Mrs. Whitaker—support and love for those dear to her—that was totally unfamiliar to Dale. She surveyed the group. “Let me see if I have the connections right. Lynn and Jim live here. Holly and Mike live in Branson. What about you, Kent? Where do you live?”

He grinned. “In Springfield. And I work at the airport, in case you don’t know that.”

“He’s seeing a lot of a girl who’s also involved in aviation,” Holly interjected. “We’re expecting an announcement any time. Her name is Terri Erickson, and we just love her.”

“Lay off, little sister,” Kent snapped, but he looked secretly pleased.

Dale darted a glance at Justin, who seemed to be enjoying his brother’s discomfort.

A man stuck his head through the partially open patio door visible beyond the kitchen. “Hey, guys. The meat’s ready.”

“Yes, Dear,” Lynn responded. “We’ll be right out.”

His head disappeared.

Lynn spoke to Dale. “We’re going to eat out on the patio. Let Justin take you on out and we’ll be there in a minute.”

They were doing everything they could to put her at ease, but Dale was still tense.

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