“If you’d knocked I would have tried to open it for you.”
“Which is why I didn’t knock,” Rance said. He set the tray down on the chair he’d been sitting in and helped Gwen sit up higher so she could eat. Once she was comfortable, he lifted the tray and placed it across her thighs. “I checked on the boys, too. They’re both out cold, one of them snoring.”
She smiled. “Thank you for checking on my babies.”
“You’re welcome.”
“This looks so good,” she said.
“Hope so,” he said, tucking a paper towel in the collar of her shirt so if she dripped food it would land on the paper towel and not the shirt she was wearing. “I wasn’t sure what to give you to drink, but then I found chamomile tea and it’s good for digestion and for relaxation.” He didn’t even grin when he delivered his newfound knowledge, acting like he’d known it all along.
“I don’t know how I can ever thank you for taking such good care of me like this,” she said as she took her first bite of scrambled eggs.
“Please don’t thank me anymore. Every time I help you with anything, you say thank you, like it’s the most unlikely thing to have me help you. I enjoy helping you. It is a demand from my soul that I make sure you’re safe and secure and happy. And each time you say thank you, you remind me that I’m nothing more than a stranger to you. And while I know that’s not completely the truth, and I know you’re just being kind and recognizing all I’m doing, it’s not necessary. I’m taking care of you because I want to, not because I want recognition. And that makes me sound like an asshole, but that’s not how I meant it.”
“I know what you meant.”
“Do you? You understand what I mean?”
“I do. But what I really want to know is how did you get these eggs so soft? Mine never come out like this unless they’re runny and I don’t eat runny eggs.”
Rance leaned closer to her like he was sharing some deep dark secret. “My momma used to make them like this. A tablespoon of ricotta cheese for every two eggs you're scrambling. Mix it in with the raw eggs and scramble it all together. You can’t tell it’s there and the eggs stay fluffy and soft.”
“They’re delicious,” she said, reaching for the tea and taking a sip. “You’re full of surprises,” she said as she set her cup down and reached for her toast.
“Don’t tell anybody. They think I’m big and bad and rough around the edges, barely able to tolerate shaving and wearing clothes because I’m so wild.”
Gwen laughed, her hand going to her side again. “Oh! Oh, stop that! You’re making me laugh and it hurts.”
He laughed, too, as she took a bite of her toast, and he reached for her spoon and started feeding her grits without even noticing he was doing it.
She didn’t stop him, though she did meet his gaze every time he gave her a bite.
“I’m glad it’s you taking care of me,” she said softly.
“Me, too.”
Chapter 14
“I like this house!” Griffin exclaimed after sliding down the old, naturally polished by all the hands that ran up and down it over the decades, banister for the third time.
“That makes me very happy. It’s been a long time since it had laughter and excitement in it,” Alison said.
“Why? Is it a sad house?” Griffin asked as he trekked up to the second floor landing to slide down the banister once more.
“I think it’s just quiet,” Alison said.
“You need some kids. Kids will make it so it’s not quiet,” Griffin said.
Alison smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “That’d be nice one day.”
“Griff? Honey, what are you doing?” Maeve asked as she walked out of the bathroom, leaving a steam trail behind her. Her hair was wrapped in a towel and she was wearing a heavy terry-cloth bathrobe Alison had given her.
“Watch, Mom!” he exclaimed then hopped up on the banister and slid, shrieking happily all the way down.
“Griffin!” she said, her mom voice in full force.
“No! It’s okay, I used to do it all the time. I’m glad someone else can enjoy it, too. Unless you don’t want him, to. But don’t stop him on my account,” Alison said.
