“Not very well, if you want to know the truth.”
“Have you always had problems sleeping?”
“No, I haven’t.” Not until Hannah passed and he’d spent the next couple months tracking down Big Bill Cassidy with a determination that made most of his friends doubt his sanity. Hell, he’d doubted his own sanity more than once.
“Maybe a glass of warm milk before bed instead of coffee.” She laughed softly as she hooked the strings of her drawstring purse over the spindle of the chair and dropped a bundle of clothes on that same chair. “My father always had a glass of whiskey before he went to sleep, even after his stroke. He always said it helped him. Brett?—”
“Your late husband?”
“Yes.” A hint of sadness flashed in her eyes but disappeared just as quickly. “He preferred brandy. I do, as well, on occasion, though not very often.” She glanced at the papers spread before him and gave him a questioning look. “Are those…Wanted posters?”
“They are.”
“Avery shouldn’t see those.” She glanced at the clock over the sink. “She’ll be getting up soon.”
“She’s seen them before. She knows what I do. She always said she wants to be a lawman like me.” He laughed but rolled the posters back into a tube and tied them with the string, then leaned them against the wall behind his chair. “I’ll put them away before she gets up.”
“Thank you. Even though Avery wants to be a lawman like you, she’s far too young to know how bad some people can be. Those lessons will come soon enough.”
“Hannah always said the same thing.”
“Hannah was right.” She turned away to take a cup from the cabinet and poured herself some coffee. She didn’t sit down to enjoy it though. She added a bit of cream and sugar, took a sip then got right to work, taking down a bowl from the cabinet and utensils from the drawer and bringing everything to the kitchentable. “I know you haven’t even had breakfast yet, but what would you like for dinner?”
He laughed. “Whatever you make will be fine—you’re a great cook. I even like your green beans.”
Her cheeks blossomed with color as a blush stole over her face. “Thank you!”
He watched her, fascinated with how the deepening redness on her cheeks made her eyes seem darker than the pansies that grew in the town square. A sudden suspicion settled over him—was she paying for the items she was bringing into his home? She hadn’t asked him for money, nor did she seem like she would do so but he didn’t want anything to come out of her own paycheck. “Are you paying for everything out of your own pocket?”
She looked at him like he had three heads. “No, of course not. You have a tab with Goldwater’s, the butcher, and the ice man.” She gathered eggs, vanilla, cinnamon, and milk as she spoke. “You settle up at the end of the month when you get your bill. Did Lucy not tell you that?”
He shook his head. If Lucy had told him that, he’d forgotten. So much had happened on the day he met Lucy and received the key to this house. He’d met Tresia for the first time…and she had proven to be a godsend in more ways than one. Avery was thriving…and he, to some extent, was as well.
“It’s the same with your milk delivery.” She cracked two eggs, one in each hand, against the side of the bowl and let the contents slide out, never losing her train of thought. “Mr. Shaeffer will leave a bill with the last delivery of the month.”
He was relieved but before he could say anything, she spoke again.
“If you’d like, I can take care of it if you leave me the money.”
She cracked two more eggs, using the same method, which fascinated him. He didn’t recall anyone ever doing that. Nothis mother, not his sister, not Hannah, and certainly not his mother-in-law who, he didn’t believe, even knew where the kitchen was in her big house.
She added a little milk to the bowl, some cinnamon and finally a dash of vanilla then whisked it all together, creating a frothy concoction.
“What are you making?”
“I thought we’d have French toast this morning.”
He nodded in agreement. “That sounds good. I haven’t had French toast in a long time.” He studied her as she worked. “Do you need some help?”
She glanced at him, surprised, then smiled. “Thank you for the offer, but I have everything under control.”
And she did. It was a pleasure to watch her as she cut thick slices of bread and piled them up on a plate then turned away to pull the cast-iron skillet from where it hung on the wall and place it on the stove. Her movements were economical as well as graceful.
“Should I wake Avery?”
Tresia glanced at the clock then shook her head. “Let’s give her a few more minutes. It won’t take long to cook now that I have everything ready.” She took another sip of her coffee and slid into her seat. His gaze swept over her face, noticing, not for the first time, how beautiful she was. His focus stopped on her eyes, which seemed to sparkle with good humor then lowered to her mouth, which was spread into a wide smile. And suddenly, he was tongue-tied. They’d been having such a comfortable conversation…a rather mundane conversation, but comfortable nonetheless, very much like the ones he’d had with Hannah, but now, he didn’t know what to say.
He cleared his throat as he searched for another topic of conversation. “Do you know where I can mail a letter?”
