The other woman looked startled.“If you’d like to learn.”
She would.Pie-making had seemed important to Jayce.
She leaped out of bed.“When can we start?”
Chapter Eight
Malika
Mavis pulled ahandwoven willow basket lined with white cotton cloth from a kitchen cupboard.She handed Malika the basket.
“We eat whatever’s in season,” Mavis said.“Serviceberries are ripening right now, and they make excellent pies.You’ll have to pick them first, though.There’s a patch in a clearing not far from the creek.”
Malika began to have doubts as to the success of this pie-making venture.She hadn’t anticipated so many steps.She stared into the empty basket, which seemed destined to remain in that state.
“How will I recognize these serviceberries?”
“Jayce knows what they are and where you can find them.”
Malika’s faith in pie-making returned.This was excellent news.She hadn’t seen him since the night before last, at the lodge, and was beginning to worry that their kiss hadn’t been pleasurable for him—although she couldn’t imagine how that could be.She’d found it magnificent.The intriguing bulge she’d felt against her thigh, and the way he’d watched her from the shadows the night prior, indicated a clear show of interest.
Perhaps she was rushing him, and he preferred to take charge.One of her sisters’ husbands was like that.She claimed he preferred to take the lead in the bedroom, and that he enjoyed it most when she pretended to protest.He’d even given her a word to say if she felt unsafe.
The possibility was worth exploring.They would go berry picking together.Alone.Near a creek, which she believed was a small river.What an excellent place for flirtation and ruin.
Except when Jayce walked into the kitchen, he wasn’t alone.The cute, curly-haired, blond-headed Tilly, and the adorable, pony-tailed, blond-headed Linda, were with him.Malika reproached him with her eyes.He lobbed innocence at her in return.
Tilly and Linda also both carried baskets.Tilly’s basket was covered by red checkered cloth.
Linda vibrated with joy.“My daddy packed us a picnic.”
Her joy was infectious.A picnic.Malika had been on many such excursions when she was a child.Her two oldest sisters and the three mothers would round up the children, load everyone into a caravan of vehicles, and they would drive for several hours to the coast, where servants had food and games waiting for them.She’d played in the waves and there were caves to explore.Today’s picnic involved labor—but berry picking led to pie-making and making pies led to Jayce.
She stepped onto Mavis’s small porch, where she’d witnessed a spectacular sunset last night.This morning, the mountains sparkled with dew.Birds blustered noisily above as they walked a small path cut through the trees.Her lungs filled with fresh, tangy air when she breathed in.Her empty basket swung happily from her arm.To think she’d have an entire summer to enjoy this.
“How goes the war of the ferrets?”Tilly asked Jayce.
They walked ahead of Malika and Linda.He carried a rifle instead of a basket, and he adjusted the strap, so the barrel was aimed at the sky.
“My mother is winning,” he said shortly.
Tilly laughed.
It was impossible for Malika not to like Tilly, despite the easy friendship she and Jayce seemed to have—a friendship that did not involve flirting, Malika was happy to see, although she found it hard to believe.How could any woman not flirt with Jayce, despite his occasional bouts of ill-humor?The man was so beautiful.
Linda trudged along next to Malika.
“Are you really going to marry an old man who’s already married?”Linda asked.
Jayce’s back stiffened.One foot broke stride with the other.Tilly paused and half turned, as if ready to intervene in case Malika required help with an answer.
Which she did not.Malika was familiar with bold children.She used to be one, herself.
“He’ll have to catch up with me first,” she said.“My brother killed the man I loved and now we’re both on the run.”
Linda’s small face reflected seven-year-old wisdom.“Your brother should have killed the old man.”
“That’s what I told him,” Malika said.
