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Rosie let out a long breath. “I’m going to have to marry him, aren’t I?”
That didn’t sound encouraging, either.
Sophie scooted her chair over next to Rosie’s and placed her hand over the older woman’s. “I guess I’m a little confused. Don’t you want to marry Lou?”
Rosie stared at where Sophie held her hand. “Of course I want to marry him. The big ole teddy bear loves me with all his heart and is just so sweet—usually. It’s just…”
“Just what?”
Sighing, Rosie grimaced a little. “You know I’ve already been married three times.”
Sophie nodded.
“Three times,” Rosie repeated, shaking her head a little as if she couldn’t quite believe the number. “All three of my husbands died, Sophie.” Closing her eyes, Rosie took a deep breath. “I just don’t think I could go through that again.”
“Oh, Rosie.” Sophie’s heart squeezed.
“That Maybelle would start calling me a Black Widow if it happened, and then I’d have to come up with a name to remind her how much older she is than me and worn out, to boot. Why, it would just ruin a perfectly good friendship.”
Sophie recognized Rosie’s comment for what it was: misdirection to distract from what she’d admitted. Rosie was scared to marry Lou for fear something would happen to him, the way it had to her other husbands.
“Don’t you think you should talk to Lou about this?”
Rosie huffed. “I have. He’s the one who told me I was being ridiculous.” Sophie didn’t say anything. “Don’t tell me you think he’s right?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t not say it, either.”
Sophie shrugged. “I think this is something you’re going to have to figure out for yourself. There are no guarantees in life, but I do know love when I see it. Lou loves you and you love him. It would be a shame for him to have to settle for stale bread after sampling your grandmother’s famous cinnamon bread.”
Rosie pouted a perfectly lipsticked lower lip. “That darn cinnamon bread is what got me into this predicament to begin with. I never should have made it for him when I know its power.”
Rosie’s grandmother’s cinnamon bread reportedly made men fall in love with the baker. Sophie wasn’t superstitious, but she knew that many a woman
around Pine Hill would love to get their hands on the recipe so perhaps there was something to it.
“Speaking of that cinnamon bread, do you need me to whip you up a batch in honor of your date to Sarah and Bodie’s little winter wonderland party this past weekend?”
Sophie’s cheeks heated. “It wasn’t a date. And I absolutely do not need you to make me any cinnamon bread.”
“No? You and Cole looked quite cozy riding on the sled together, and you know the way to a man’s heart is his stomach.”
Sophie thought back to the cookies she’d made Cole. His favorite type of cookies. They’d been good, too, as she knew because she’d had to sample a few, just to make sure they’d turned out right. But she hadn’t made them because she’d been trying to find the way to his heart. She’d just wanted to express her gratitude for his coming to her rescue.
“Sledding with Cole was no more a date than when Isabelle and I went down the hill on the same sled.” She felt dishonest saying it. Technically, it was true that she and her sister had ridden on the same sled just minutes before she’d taken the trip down the hill with Cole, but the ride with Isabelle hadn’t made her insides feel as light and fluffy as the snow that had been drifting down from the night sky.
Sophie was glad her sister could only see her and Rosie if she glanced at the security camera feed, and that even if she looked, she wouldn’t be able to hear this conversation.
Her sister had had more than enough to say about Cole already.
“You Butterflies shouldn’t have tried to get him to share a blanket with me, either. Poor Cole.”
“Poor Cole? Honey, haven’t you ever heard that the best way to warm up after some time out in the snow is to snuggle up next to someone? We were just trying to make sure you stayed warm.”
“Please don’t try matchmaking us. Cole is my toy drive partner, nothing more.”
Even if he felt like much more.
