see him for who he truly is.”
“Then I will pray for that, too.”
Dorrie sighed. “I see that you mean it. You really don’t care about him?”
“Not in the way you’re hoping. I’m sorry.” She kept her tone gentle as she lifted the stack of plates into the sink. “I will be happy to help you find the right woman for him. There’s someone for everyone. God didn’t make us to be alone.”
“No, He didn’t.” Dorrie sidled close, opened the dishwasher and tried to take over doing the dishes. “Tell me why you are all alone?”
“Sometimes love doesn’t work out.” Lucy held her ground at the sink.
“I’m sorry, dear. I really should do the dishes.”
“You cooked. The cook doesn’t clean. I have very strict rules about this.”
A crashing sound rang from the dining room. Ava’s “oops!” brought a round of laughter. Lucy ran a plate under the water. It was perfect timing for a subject change. “You had better go check on that, don’t you think?”
“I’m going to let you have your way, dear, because I like you.” Dorrie had the sweetest smile, exactly the one a loving mother should have. “But I warn you. I’m coming back.”
“I’m still not going to let you do the dishes.” Lucy slid the plate into the dishwasher rack. Merry conversations rang from the adjacent room. As she scraped another plate, she couldn’t help wondering what Spence was up to. Was he watching football in the living room with the other men? Or had he retreated outside again? And why was the back of her neck buzzing? Because Spence was standing in the archway, watching her with his X-ray vision.
The plate slipped out of her hand and landed with a sploosh. It was a good thing the drain had backed up or she would owe Katherine a china plate. Trying to pretend her hand wasn’t shaking at the possibility of that shattered plate and not because of Spence, she hit the garbage disposal switch and let the chugging sound fill the silence. With any luck, Spence would be gone when she turned it off.
He wasn’t. He was directly behind her. She knew because her nape was tingling again. She slid the plate carefully between the tines on the dishwasher rack and faced him. Water dripped off the tips of her fingers, but both the hand towel and the roll of paper towels were behind him on the opposing counter. Great.
Spence appeared disgusted with her. He whipped the hand towel off the oven handle and jabbed it toward her. “Here. Use this.”
“Thanks.” She grabbed for it, careful to avoid making the slightest contact with him.
“The state patrol is reporting that Blackhawk Hill Road is open and plowed. You can go home.” He was like one giant rock standing in the middle of Katherine’s kitchen—not a blink, not a breath, not the tiniest trace of a movement.
“Inside I’m sure you are overjoyed.”
“Inside I’m dancing a jig.”
“I didn’t think you approved of dancing.” She knelt to wipe up the few droplets she’d left on the floor.
“I don’t.” A muscle ticked in his granite jaw—just once. Then he went back to being stone.
You don’t like this guy, Lucy, she told herself. So why was she struggling not to laugh? She tossed the towel onto the counter. “Thanks for the news. I’ll finish helping out and be on my way.”
“How are you going to do that? Isn’t your car buried?”
“Minor technicality.” She went back to rinsing plates. “I’ll get a shovel.”
“What exactly are you going to do with a shovel?” He scowled.
“The obvious. I’m going to dig out my car so I can go home.”
“Do you know what wind does to snow?” He braced his feet.
“No, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll have to deal with it anyway.” She turned her back to him with firm intention, as if to end the discussion.
Didn’t she have a shred of common sense? He couldn’t understand why she was being this way. She sounded upset—maybe at him, maybe at the snow. More likely it was because of what
“Then I will pray for that, too.”
Dorrie sighed. “I see that you mean it. You really don’t care about him?”
“Not in the way you’re hoping. I’m sorry.” She kept her tone gentle as she lifted the stack of plates into the sink. “I will be happy to help you find the right woman for him. There’s someone for everyone. God didn’t make us to be alone.”
“No, He didn’t.” Dorrie sidled close, opened the dishwasher and tried to take over doing the dishes. “Tell me why you are all alone?”
“Sometimes love doesn’t work out.” Lucy held her ground at the sink.
“I’m sorry, dear. I really should do the dishes.”
“You cooked. The cook doesn’t clean. I have very strict rules about this.”
A crashing sound rang from the dining room. Ava’s “oops!” brought a round of laughter. Lucy ran a plate under the water. It was perfect timing for a subject change. “You had better go check on that, don’t you think?”
“I’m going to let you have your way, dear, because I like you.” Dorrie had the sweetest smile, exactly the one a loving mother should have. “But I warn you. I’m coming back.”
“I’m still not going to let you do the dishes.” Lucy slid the plate into the dishwasher rack. Merry conversations rang from the adjacent room. As she scraped another plate, she couldn’t help wondering what Spence was up to. Was he watching football in the living room with the other men? Or had he retreated outside again? And why was the back of her neck buzzing? Because Spence was standing in the archway, watching her with his X-ray vision.
The plate slipped out of her hand and landed with a sploosh. It was a good thing the drain had backed up or she would owe Katherine a china plate. Trying to pretend her hand wasn’t shaking at the possibility of that shattered plate and not because of Spence, she hit the garbage disposal switch and let the chugging sound fill the silence. With any luck, Spence would be gone when she turned it off.
He wasn’t. He was directly behind her. She knew because her nape was tingling again. She slid the plate carefully between the tines on the dishwasher rack and faced him. Water dripped off the tips of her fingers, but both the hand towel and the roll of paper towels were behind him on the opposing counter. Great.
Spence appeared disgusted with her. He whipped the hand towel off the oven handle and jabbed it toward her. “Here. Use this.”
“Thanks.” She grabbed for it, careful to avoid making the slightest contact with him.
“The state patrol is reporting that Blackhawk Hill Road is open and plowed. You can go home.” He was like one giant rock standing in the middle of Katherine’s kitchen—not a blink, not a breath, not the tiniest trace of a movement.
“Inside I’m sure you are overjoyed.”
“Inside I’m dancing a jig.”
“I didn’t think you approved of dancing.” She knelt to wipe up the few droplets she’d left on the floor.
“I don’t.” A muscle ticked in his granite jaw—just once. Then he went back to being stone.
You don’t like this guy, Lucy, she told herself. So why was she struggling not to laugh? She tossed the towel onto the counter. “Thanks for the news. I’ll finish helping out and be on my way.”
“How are you going to do that? Isn’t your car buried?”
“Minor technicality.” She went back to rinsing plates. “I’ll get a shovel.”
“What exactly are you going to do with a shovel?” He scowled.
“The obvious. I’m going to dig out my car so I can go home.”
“Do you know what wind does to snow?” He braced his feet.
“No, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll have to deal with it anyway.” She turned her back to him with firm intention, as if to end the discussion.
Didn’t she have a shred of common sense? He couldn’t understand why she was being this way. She sounded upset—maybe at him, maybe at the snow. More likely it was because of what
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