Rorie did her best to smile.
Skip must have noticed how miserable she was because he added, “The salad was real good though. What kind of dressing was that?”
“Vinaigrette.”
“Really? It tasted fruity.”
“It was raspberry flavored.”
Skip’s eyes widened. “I’ve never heard of that kind of vinegar. Did you buy it here in Nightingale?”
“Not exactly. I got the ingredients while Kate and I were out the other day and mixed it up last night.”
“That tasted real good.” Which was Skip’s less-than-subtle method of telling her nothing else had. He’d barely touched the main course. Clay had made a show of asking for seconds, but Rorie was all too aware that his display of enthusiasm had been an effort to salve her injured ego.
Rorie wasn’t fooled—no one had enjoyed her special dinner. Even old Blue had turned his nose up at it when she’d offered him a taste of the leftovers.
Clay and Skip did hard physical work; they didn’t sit in an office all day like Dan and the other men she knew. She should have realized that Clay and his brother required a more substantial meal than noodles swimming in a creamy sauce. Rorie wished she’d discussed her menu with either Mary or Kate. A tiny voice inside her suggested that Kate might have said something to warn her…
“Anyone else for more pie?” Kate was asking.
Clay nodded and cast a guilty glance in Rorie’s direction. “I could go for a second piece myself.”
“The pie was delicious,” Rorie told Kate, meaning it. She was willing to admit Kate’s dessert had been the highlight of the meal.
“Kate’s one of the best cooks in the entire country,” Skip announced, licking the back of his fork. “Her lemon pie won a blue ribbon at the county fair last year.” He leaned forward, planting his elbows on the table. “She’s got a barbecue sauce so tangy and good that when she cooks up spareribs I just can’t stop eating ’em.” His face fell as though he was thinking about those ribs now and would have gladly traded all of Rorie’s fancy city food for a plateful.
“I’d like the fettuccine recipe if you’d give it to me,” Kate told Rorie, obviously attempting to change the subject and spare Rorie’s feelings. Perhaps she felt a little guilty, too, for not giving her any helpful suggestions.
Skip stared at Kate as if she’d volunteered to muck out the stalls.
“I’ll write it down before I leave.”
“Since Rorie and Kate put so much time and effort into the meal, I think Skip and I could be convinced to do our part and wash the dishes.”
“We could?” Skip protested.
“It’s the least we can do,” Clay returned flatly, frowning at his younger brother.
Rorie was all too aware of Clay’s ploy. He wanted to get into the kitchen so they could find something else to eat without being conspicuous about it. Something plain and basic, no doubt, like roast-beef sandwiches.
“Listen, you guys,” Rorie said brightly. “I’m sorry about dinner. I can see everyone’s still hungry. You’re all going out of your way to reassure me, but it isn’t necessary.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Rorie. Dinner was excellent,” Clay said, patting his stomach.
Rorie nearly laughed out loud. “Why don’t we call for a pizza?” she said, pleased with her solution. “I bungled dinner, so that’s the least I can do to make it up to you.”
Three faces stared at her blankly.
“Rorie,” Clay said gently. “The closest pizza parlour is thirty miles from here.”
“Oh.”
Undeterred, Skip leaped to his feet. “No problem… You phone in the order and I’ll go get it.”
Empty pizza boxes littered the living-room floor, along with several abandoned soft-drink cans.
Skip lay on his back staring up at the ceiling. “Anyone for a little music?” he asked lazily.
“Sure.” Kate got to her feet and sat down at the piano. As her nimble fingers ran over the keyboard, the rich sounds echoed against the walls. “Some Lee Greenwood?”
“All right,” Skip called out with a yell, punching his fist into the air. He thrust two fingers in his mouth and gave a shrill whistle.
“Who?” Rorie asked once the commotion had died down.
“He’s a country singer,” Clay explained. Blue ambled to his side, settling down at his feet. Clay gently stroked his back.