“I can pour the coffee for both of us,” he said, reaching for the cabinet that held the mugs. “And I’m delighted you started breakfast. I haven’t had such a nice treat in years.”
Diane brought the plate of scrambled eggs to the table and sat down. Jeff’s statement that he hadn’t had breakfast prepared for him in years had startled her.
Around their house, no one left without some sort of morning meal. After eighteen years of a good breakfast, Diane had continued to eat breakfast through her college years. A good thing, too, since she put in long days.
Jeff seemed to be enjoying his food. He looked up and caught her watching. “I had no idea you could cook. I thought you were a lawyer.”
“I am a lawyer…or will be when I pass the bar. But that doesn’t mean I don’t eat.”
“I eat, too, but it’s usually at a restaurant…or at your sister’s shop. Her sausage rolls are good.”
“Yes, they are.”
A knock on the door startled them. Before Diane could move, Jeff jumped up from his chair. “That’s probably for me. Go ahead and eat.”
She supposed he was used to being on call, but it seemed strange that someone would come to his house rather than use the phone. When Diane turned she saw Katie enter the door, carrying a pan.
“Your sister brought some of those sausage rolls we were just talking about,” Jeff explained, grinning as he followed Katie into the kitchen. “I guess she didn’t know you could cook, either.”
“I thought I’d save you the trouble,” Katie said, bending down to kiss Diane’s cheek. “How’s Paul this morning?”
“He’s still asleep,” Diane said. “He took a pain pill last night.”
“He did? He must’ve really been hurting.” Katie looked at Jeff. “You said it was minor.”
Jeff pulled out a chair for Katie and gestured for her to sit while he poured her a cup of coffee and brought it to the table. Then he resettled in his chair. “A burn is a shock to the body. While he’ll recover, it will take a while. I don’t want him doing much with that arm.”
“Poor Paul. He has a lot of plans for the summer. He needs to stay in shape. Can he exercise?” Katie asked.
Jeff shook his head. “Not at once.”
“So he’ll have to rest a lot?” Diane asked, wondering how he would do that when they didn’t even have a place to live. She started making a mental list of people they might call.
“A few days,” Jeff said.
Katie was ahead of Diane. “We’ll have to find somewhere for the two of you to stay. Will you be able to take care of him, Diane? You don’t have much planned except studying for the next few weeks, do you? Mom will worry about—”
Katie’s words reminded Diane of her decision yesterday. “The children!” she said, interrupting her sister’s question.
She could tell from the expression on Jeff’s face that he realized her problem, too.
“What children?” Katie asked.
“I was going to take care of the two children from the wreck while their mother recovers. Now I don’t have anywhere to care for them. How long before the house is livable?”
“I don’t know,” Katie confessed. “We were trying to convince Mom and Jack to rebuild instead of fixing it. The wiring is outdated and dangerous—obviously. We don’t want to go through that again.”
“No, of course not,” Diane agreed, but she was worried. If they decided to rebuild, she would have nowhere to live all summer. “I’ll start looking for something to rent.”
Jeff’s quiet voice interrupted her panic. “Until you find somewhere, you can bring the children here. While you’re watching Paul, you can watch them, too.”
Diane was stunned by his generosity and started to say something.
Jeff assured them both that it wouldn’t be a problem for him. “I’m not here that much. It will be nice to have company, especially company who cooks like Diane.”
“It was only breakfast,” she protested, embarrassed by his excessive praise.
“Are you sure, Jeff, because we can ask around. Some of the older people in town have empty rooms. We could pay them some rent and—” Katie began.
“I won’t hear of it. Besides, it will save me time by housing two of my patients. I can check the boy and Paul before I go to the office.”
Katie seemed satisfied with Jeff’s explanation, but Diane wasn’t. The man made her too…nervous. She didn’t want to spend half her summer in his house. When Katie asked to see Paul before she left, Diane offered to show her to his room while Jeff finished breakfast.
On the stairs, Diane whispered to her sister, “See if you can find a place for us, Katie. I don’t feel right staying here.”
“You don’t like Jeff?” Katie asked in surprise.
“He’s fine, but—he’s used to living alone. I don’t think he’ll enjoy having a full house.”
“I think he’ll like it,” Katie said, a smile on her lips. “I’ve been wondering what we could do for him. He seems lonely to me.”
“Katie Dawson! What are you thinking?” Diane demanded, suspicion filling her.
“Why, absolutely nothing, sis. I’m just trying to be sure everyone’s covered. I’ll ask Mabel or Florence if they have room for you, okay?”
Her promise didn’t exactly satisfy Diane. Mabel Baxter and Florence Greenfield, mother of Cal Baxter and wife of George Greenfield respectively, were known for their matchmaking. In fact, it was Florence’s bet with her friends that resulted in their sons marrying. Doc, as George Greenfield was known, had enthusiastically fallen into the trap and married Florence, too. And then there was Tuck and Spence, their friends, who’d also fallen prey to the bet.
Since then, Cactus had become a hotbed of marriages. Marriage was fine for others, but Diane had no intention of losing her independence now that she was going to finally be earning a salary that would allow her to travel.
“Katie, you tell them no matchmaking. Do you hear me?”
“I certainly do.” She opened the door Diane had stopped in front of and hurried to Paul’s bedside.
“Paul, how are you?” she asked gently.
At that moment he rolled onto his injured arm and the pain was visible on his face. “Damn!” he muttered, then immediately apologized. “I didn’t know it would hurt this much,” he said with a gasp.
“I’ll go bring you some breakfast,” Diane assured him as she left the room.
Jeff was still sitting at the table, sipping his coffee when she entered.
“How’s he doing?” he said.
“He’s in a lot of pain. Can he take another pain pill?”
“Of course. Do you have the second one from last night?” Jeff asked, getting to his feet.
“Yes. I’m taking him some breakfast. Do you have a tray?”
He found one for her. “Don’t give him coffee. I think there’s some orange juice. Try that. I’ll go up and check on him.”
She dished up the scrambled eggs, along with a few sausage rolls and the last of the bacon. Then she poured a glass of juice. After adding napkins and the pain pill she’d left in the kitchen last night, she carried the tray up the stairs.
“But I don’t