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The figs were her personal favorite. She loved their unique, sweet flavor and the way their softness contrasted with the cheese and crackers. She placed them on the board, their deep purple skins adding a pop of color and a hint of exotic flair.
To complete the array, she added some cured meats—thinly sliced prosciutto, spicy salami, and a few slices of smoked ham. Their savory scents mingled with the other elements, creating an inviting aroma.
Jo entered the kitchen just as Bridget carefully positioned the last of the meats on the tray.
“Pretty fancy. Not sure this crowd will appreciate it.” Jo folded a slice of prosciutto into her mouth, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Just regular cheese and crackers would be fine.”
Bridget shot her a wry smile, her fingers nimbly arranging a handful of cheddar cubes. “It’s fun. Besides, it’s the least I can do.” She didn’t elaborate on how much Jo’s support over the years and her sister letting her live here meant to her.
“Seen Pickles today?” Jo asked, peering through the window, her gaze trailing into the woods.
“Yep. He ate the food I left. Let me pet him, but I don’t think he liked smelling Major on me, though.”
“Major? The cat at the station?”
“I stopped by to see if you were in when I was in town getting the food. I hope you don’t mind.” The thought hadn’t occurred to her that Jo would mind, but maybe she did?
“Not at all! Sorry I wasn’t there.” Jo grabbed a cube of cheese then frowned. “Major lets you pet him?”
“Yeah. He’s sweet.” Bridget, relieved that Jo didn’t mind her stopping into the station, artfully arranged grapes on the board. “I met Kevin. He’s getting the hang of things, it seems.”
“Kevin’s been cleared for part-time work.” Jo’s tone was a mix of relief and concern. “But something doesn’t sit right. He puts on a brave face, but I can tell he’s struggling.”
Bridget kept her focus on the board, rearranging grapes to avoid Jo’s penetrating gaze. She’d noticed something off about Kevin, too, but decided to play it down.
The way he’d been looking at that filing cabinet told her he had no idea where to file things, and the way he’d pretended like he knew exactly where the files went told her that he was trying to hide that fact. But the reason he had memory issues was because of the coma he’d been in when saving Lucy from a bullet, so that made him a hero in her book. “I think he was acting fine. He was filing up a storm when I went in.”
Jo quirked an eyebrow, her worry easing slightly. “Really? That’s a relief.”
A sudden knock on their door stole their attention
“Hey, you guys in there?” Sam’s voice rang through the small cottage.
“Yes, come in!” Jo yelled.
Seconds later, Lucy burst into the kitchen, all tail wags and wiggles.
Bridget exhaled a sigh of relief. For now, she’d keep her observations about Kevin to herself. After all, everyone had their secrets. Even her.
* * *
Sam followedLucy into the kitchen, where Jo and Bridget were preparing food. He raised an eyebrow as he snagged a piece of cheese from the elaborate plate on the kitchen counter. “What’s all this? Looks pretty fancy.”
Jo chuckled and passed him his favorite Mooseneck beer. “You know, there’s a world beyond canned beans and hot dogs, Sam.”
“Hi, Sam.” Bridget gave Sam a hug, and he felt a beam of pride. He couldn’t really take credit for the way Bridget had cleaned up her addiction, but he liked to think he’d helped a little bit.
“I’ve been watching cooking shows and thought you guys might enjoy some of the finer things in life. There are figs, three kinds of cheeses, and prosciutto.” Bridget handed the tray to Sam. “Will you take it into the living room?”
With the beer and plate, Sam moved into the living room, Lucy following closely behind.
Sam eased into an armchair, his gaze roaming the room. The place had a touch of feminine charm that was a far cry from his rugged cabin, but it wasn’t frilly, so he didn’t feel out of place. It was clean, cozy. Filled with trinkets that gave it a lived-in feel. “Place is looking good, Jo.”
Across the room, Jo was arranging a few more logs in the fireplace, her back to him. “Yeah, I’m settling in now, and I’ve got a meeting with the landlord tomorrow. Try to make it permanent,” she said, her voice casual. Too casual.
Sam eyed her for a moment. She was trying to act casual about it, as if it didn’t matter, but she wasn’t fooling anyone. “Hope you’re not paying list price. You put enough work into this place. Brought it back to life.”
He took a swig from his beer, eyes flitting back to the fireplace.
