“Would it work?”
She cocked her hip. “Never.”
“I thought as much. Well, you might feel differently after I share this with you. Nelle”—he nodded over his shoulder at the New Orleans–bred woman behind him—“she brought her homemade jambalaya. You do not want to miss out on this. I was just rushing off to get a bowl when I bumped into you. A happy accident it seems. Come on, we’ll find two.” He grabbed her hand,and she let him lead her to the kitchen. In a few seconds, they were on Nelle’s heels before she unsealed the lid on the container.
When Nelle picked up the ladle, Tucker had two bowls set out.
“Boy, you’ve got better manners than that,” she scolded him.
“I’m serving Sheila first,” he said, looking for approval. “She’s a guest.”
Nelle’s lips pulled into a thin line, and then with a hearty heap she filled the bowls. “Oh, well, that’s entirely different.”
“See,” he said to Sheila. “Nelle likes me. You will too.”
“We’ll see.” Sheila raised her brow.
He handed her one of the bowls. “Come on, let’s go sit on the front porch and enjoy this under the Christmas lights. Did I mention I was the one who hung those twenty thousand lights in the magnolia tree?”
“That sounds like a lot of lights. Are you always this helpful?”
“I try to be.”
She laughed, but he hadn’t meant for it to sound like a joke.
They stepped outside and Sheila immediately hunched her shoulders. “It’s freezing out here.”
“The temperature has dropped, hasn’t it.” He waved her to follow. “Come on. The jambalaya will warm you up.” He ushered Sheila to the rockers at the far end of the porch. “Sit.” Here the wind was blocked.
“Thanks.” Sheila took a bite. “Oh my gosh. I’m so glad you persuaded me to cut in line for this. I didn’t think I liked Cajun food, but this is really good, and perfect on a chilly night.”
“Nelle is an amazing cook. She takes over the lunch counter a few days a week in the back of the hardware store on Main Street.”
“In the hardware store?” She dropped the spoon in her bowl and pushed her hand into her pocket to keep it warm.
“Well, years ago it was the pharmacy and there was a soda fountain. Now it’s a hardware store. And Nelle’s lunch counter. She’s open for lunch—Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.”
“Nice schedule.”
“You should get Natalie to take you. I’m sure she’s been. It’s a local favorite.”
“I’ll do that. What do you suggest I order?”
“There’s no menu. Which is kind of the beauty of it. No choices to make.”
“There are days I wish I didn’t have to make one more choice.”
“I know. You’re having whatever Nelle is cooking. No one has ever complained about it once she started doing that.”
“Count me in.” She took another bite. “I can’t believe how many people are still coming and going. Oh my gosh. Look over there, those people are all wearing matching sweaters! It’s like a parade.”
“That’s the Mullaney family. Looks like all six kids and the cousins are with them.” Their sweaters were bright green, with a reindeer on the front and a blinking red nose bobbing from the center. Bells on the felt antler headbands jingled as they filed inside in a chorus of Merry Christmases. “Never a dull moment at this party. Are you enjoying it?”
“I am.”
Softly spoken, the words seemed sincere, and it was as if her green eyes were looking straight into his heart.
Dang, Nelle, is there some kind of Louisiana Cupid spell in this jambalaya?
