“Yes. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Bradshaw.”
“Please, Jesse.”
She eyed the man dressed in an impeccable black suit, even though it was nearly summer and the dinner was a casual affair. Boswell fit the bill perfectly for a proper English butler with a rich accent, she thought, and she decided her grandfather would have competition for Susan’s interest. That might shake things up a bit tonight—not to mention Clint sending her dagger looks every time she glanced his way.
“Mom. I can’t find Bingo.” Her son came to a screeching halt in the hallway.
“Everyone, I’d like you to meet my son. Nate, this is Cindy, her father, Mr. Blackburn, and Mr. Boswell.”
“Just Boswell, madam.”
Barking followed by honking permeated the sudden silence. “I think Bingo is out back.”
“He knows to stay away from Fred and Ethel.” Nate hurried toward the kitchen.
“Please have a seat in the living room. I’d better check on Bingo,” Jesse murmured, following her son.
Before she took two steps into the kitchen, the dog shot through the doggie door and raced past her as if monsters were on his tail. She heard one of her geese’s familiar honking and realized the dog had narrowly escaped—again.
“I thought he learned his lesson the last time,” Jesse muttered as her son rushed after his pet.
“I only have to have one confrontation with those…geese to know not to get within a hundred yards of them.”
Jesse jumped, surprised at the sound of Nick’s voice behind her. He had come into the kitchen through the dining room and stood framed in the entrance, looking wonderfully handsome in denim jeans and a casual light-blue knit shirt.
“Then you’re smarter than Bingo.”
“What a relief.” He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorjamb, a crooked grin on his face. “Can I help you with anything?”
“With Boswell in your employ, I don’t see you asking to help out in the kitchen much.”
“I know my way around. I can fend for myself if the need ever arises. Remember, I served you tea yesterday.” Nick threw a glance over his shoulder and lowered his voice, “Besides, things are heating up in the living room and I thought I would give—the man and woman some privacy.”
“Oh, you must mean Tara and Clint.” She’d almost forgotten about them as though Nick’s appearance had wiped her mind blank. “Where’s Boswell and Cindy?”
“Cindy ran after Bingo and Boswell ran after Cindy.”
“They’re probably all in Nate’s room by now trying to coax the dog out from under the bed. That’s where he goes to hide from Fred and Ethel.”
“Not a bad idea. Smart dog.”
“I’ve got everything under control.”
Nick’s brows shot upward.
“The dinner, I mean.”
“Are you sure?” He gestured toward the stove.
Jesse whirled about, the scent of burning cookies mocking her words. If she hadn’t been so preoccupied with her new neighbor, her senses totally focused on him, she might have remembered she’d had them in the oven or at least smelled something was wrong before it was too late. He had a way of dominating her thoughts. Scary. She was definitely glad he was only going to be here a few months.
Rushing forward, she yanked open the door, smoke billowing out into the kitchen. She coughed, the blast of heat hitting her. Grabbing the hot pads, she pulled out the baking sheet with fifteen toasty, dark-brown chocolate chip cookies on it.
She dumped them in the kitchen sink along with the baking sheet, then turned to find Nick not two feet behind her. Heat scored her cheeks, and she attributed it to the oven temperature bathing her face not seconds before, not to the fact he was so near that she actually could smell his clean, fresh scent with a hint of lime. It vied with the scent of scorched cookies and definitely was a much more pleasant aroma.
“Thankfully that’s only one batch of the cookies. Dessert isn’t completely ruined.” She fought a strong urge to fan herself and instead flipped on the exhaust fan over the stove.
He scanned the kitchen which was neat and clean with little evidence of any meal preparation having taken place. “What are we having tonight?”
“Aren’t cookies enough? Granted, I don’t have as many as I wanted, but I think each person will have at least three of them.”
“A virtual feast. You’ll get no protest from Cindy.”
“And you?”
He shifted and leaned against the counter, taking his weight off his right leg. “I may need a bit more nourishment.”
“Well, in that case, I have a potato salad, hamburgers and baked beans. I thought that would suit the children better. Now that the cookies are done, I’ll put the beans in the oven and start the grill.” She moved toward the refrigerator and took a casserole dish out.
“Grill them? Out back?”
Jesse peered at him as she placed the beans on the rack in the oven. “Yes.”
“With those mon—geese?”
“The grill is on the deck. I thought we would eat out there, too. The evening is lovely. Fred and Ethel won’t bother us.”
“Weren’t they just out on the deck chasing Bingo?”
“No, they always stop short of coming up the steps.”
“You couldn’t tell from the racket they were making.”
“When night comes, they settle down.”
“Night isn’t for a few more hours.”
She straightened, looking him directly in the eyes. “Trust me. You’ll be fine.”
“I’m not worried about myself, but Cindy was very upset yesterday morning.”
“I know, but I want her to feel comfortable over here. Fred and Ethel will stay by the lake and their nest. I promise.” She sensed the little girl needed a woman’s influence right now in her life. She could never turn her back on a child in need. She intended to befriend Cindy while she was here. “If you want to help, you can bring the tray in the refrigerator out onto the deck while I check to make sure Tara and Clint are all right.”
Nick pushed away from the counter. “I haven’t heard any sounds from the living room in the past five minutes.”
“No, and that has me worried. They were engaged and Clint called it off the other day, just weeks before they were to be married. Claimed he wasn’t ready for marriage.”
“Smart guy.”
Jesse halted at the entrance into the dining room. She remembered Cindy’s words about wishing she had a mother. “You don’t believe in marriage?”
“It’s fine for some people, but I’m not one of them.”
The bitterness in his voice caused her heart to ache for the pain he must have endured. What had made him so against marriage? His late wife? Her death? She recalled her own anger after her husband had died. But she was definitely over that. She had been lucky to have one good marriage. The Lord had been good to her and she wanted to share the bounty. She wanted others to have what she’d had.
She escaped into the dining room, warily approaching the living room. She didn’t hear any voices. Had they done