from his mother.”
“His mother,” she murmured.
No matter how many times she heard it from his lips, it still took her breath away. Ophelia had signed the proper papers and this man saw her, Josie —not her sister—as Nathan’s mother. The thought of it caused a rush of hope to flood her being and she said a quick prayer that the Lord would bring to pass legally what she and Adam knew in their hearts to be true.
Then she went back on the defensive. Where her son was concerned, she could not afford to let down her guard for anyone. And she had to make sure Adam knew that, knew just what kind of person he was dealing with. “I’m saying I may not be one of those worldly, sophisticated women you are accustomed to—”
“What women?” he asked around a mouthful of okra.
She did not stop to answer his question, but just plowed right on with her thought. “But don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m so naive I can’t understand what’s going on.”
“I can assure you, I don’t think of you that way at all.” Another swig of milk. His dark brows angled down, he leaned forward on his elbow. “That said, I just have to ask—what is going on, Josie?”
“I have no idea,” she admitted freely. “There. Now you know exactly who you are dealing with. A lunatic.”
He laughed, then helped himself to a thick slab of pie.
She conceded her humility with a soft chuckle, then she sat back in the chair. “But you’ve told me this trip home, the timing, your plans are not just about Nathan. If not specifically, then by the things you don’t say and the way you say them.”
He set his fork down and allowed what she had just said to sink in.
He made her nervous. “See? A lunatic. But not one that’s entirely off base on this. I know things are not what they seem on the surface. And I know that I would be foolish not to be wary about that. I also know that—”
“What I know is this is very good pie.”
“Don’t change the subject,” she warned, then watched him stuff down a whopping bite, she went all mushy inside and had to ask, “Do you really think so?”
“I do.” He laughed over her response and took another bite. “I’ve certainly tasted a lot of pastry products in my lifetime. Desserts and more than one person’s share of snack foods, but this…this is special. Old family recipe?”
“I don’t even have an old family.” She shook her head and hoped that hadn’t come off too pathetic. To try to counteract that, she scooted her seat in close and decided to share what she had discovered today, “I’ve got a secret ingredient that comes from an old family recipe, though.”
“I bet you have a lot of secrets, Josie.”
“No.” She sat back. “I’m pretty much an open book.”
“And me without my library card.” He touched her hand.
She blushed. “My grandmother taught me how to cook. I lived with her from the time I…”
Became a Christian. She wasn’t embarrassed to talk about her faith, but she didn’t know any way of doing that without bringing up how her mother and sister had rejected her. And in doing so remind him that she was not Nathan’s mother by birth. She wondered if that was a weakness of faith on her part? “From the time I moved to Mt. Knott in high school until she died a few years later, when I already had a job at the Crumble.”
“You worked at my family’s factory?”
“I told you that. Didn’t I tell you that?”
Neither of them seemed to recall. That should have sent up a red flag to Josie that either the man wasn’t listening to her or she wasn’t paying attention to what all she said to him. Or perhaps that when they were together they were too…sidetracked to bother with the small details of a conversation.
She stared at her hands, determined not to look into his eyes in hopes she would remember this exchange in detail. “I didn’t survive the first round of job cuts.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. But in a way it was a good
“His mother,” she murmured.
No matter how many times she heard it from his lips, it still took her breath away. Ophelia had signed the proper papers and this man saw her, Josie —not her sister—as Nathan’s mother. The thought of it caused a rush of hope to flood her being and she said a quick prayer that the Lord would bring to pass legally what she and Adam knew in their hearts to be true.
Then she went back on the defensive. Where her son was concerned, she could not afford to let down her guard for anyone. And she had to make sure Adam knew that, knew just what kind of person he was dealing with. “I’m saying I may not be one of those worldly, sophisticated women you are accustomed to—”
“What women?” he asked around a mouthful of okra.
She did not stop to answer his question, but just plowed right on with her thought. “But don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m so naive I can’t understand what’s going on.”
“I can assure you, I don’t think of you that way at all.” Another swig of milk. His dark brows angled down, he leaned forward on his elbow. “That said, I just have to ask—what is going on, Josie?”
“I have no idea,” she admitted freely. “There. Now you know exactly who you are dealing with. A lunatic.”
He laughed, then helped himself to a thick slab of pie.
She conceded her humility with a soft chuckle, then she sat back in the chair. “But you’ve told me this trip home, the timing, your plans are not just about Nathan. If not specifically, then by the things you don’t say and the way you say them.”
He set his fork down and allowed what she had just said to sink in.
He made her nervous. “See? A lunatic. But not one that’s entirely off base on this. I know things are not what they seem on the surface. And I know that I would be foolish not to be wary about that. I also know that—”
“What I know is this is very good pie.”
“Don’t change the subject,” she warned, then watched him stuff down a whopping bite, she went all mushy inside and had to ask, “Do you really think so?”
“I do.” He laughed over her response and took another bite. “I’ve certainly tasted a lot of pastry products in my lifetime. Desserts and more than one person’s share of snack foods, but this…this is special. Old family recipe?”
“I don’t even have an old family.” She shook her head and hoped that hadn’t come off too pathetic. To try to counteract that, she scooted her seat in close and decided to share what she had discovered today, “I’ve got a secret ingredient that comes from an old family recipe, though.”
“I bet you have a lot of secrets, Josie.”
“No.” She sat back. “I’m pretty much an open book.”
“And me without my library card.” He touched her hand.
She blushed. “My grandmother taught me how to cook. I lived with her from the time I…”
Became a Christian. She wasn’t embarrassed to talk about her faith, but she didn’t know any way of doing that without bringing up how her mother and sister had rejected her. And in doing so remind him that she was not Nathan’s mother by birth. She wondered if that was a weakness of faith on her part? “From the time I moved to Mt. Knott in high school until she died a few years later, when I already had a job at the Crumble.”
“You worked at my family’s factory?”
“I told you that. Didn’t I tell you that?”
Neither of them seemed to recall. That should have sent up a red flag to Josie that either the man wasn’t listening to her or she wasn’t paying attention to what all she said to him. Or perhaps that when they were together they were too…sidetracked to bother with the small details of a conversation.
She stared at her hands, determined not to look into his eyes in hopes she would remember this exchange in detail. “I didn’t survive the first round of job cuts.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. But in a way it was a good
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