"There you two are. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about your supper. I’ve planned something special." Grace practically pulled Cord and Josie into her kitchen.
Cord frowned. Grace always made too much of a fuss. And this wedding didn’t need fussing over. "Grace, you didn’t need--"
"Oh, you hush, Cordell. And wipe that scowl off your face. A person would think somebody died."
"Can I help you with anything?" Josie grabbed an apron and pulled it over her head.
She always did that. She always tried to busy herself when she was nervous. Cord folded his arms across his chest, for lack of something better to do with them. Now she was making him nervous, dammit.
Why should Josie be uncomfortable? She had everything she wanted now. She had a roof over her head, and didn’t have to worry for anything. She had a wardrobe of clothes. She’d even gotten Cord to marry her. Wasn’t that everything she’d been after when she’d come into the store that day?
Oh, she’d never said as much, and even gone as far as saying she wanted nothing from him.
I don’t want anything from any man, Mr. Williams.
Wasn’t that what she’d said? But since she’d lied about everything else, why wouldn’t that be a lie too? She’d used his vulnerability--his children--to get what she wanted. She’d almost had him as well. Almost.
"Annie Josie!" Lacy skipped across the kitchen and wrapped her arms around Josie’s neck. "Guess what? Me an’ Matthew made you a surprise! It’s a--"
"Lacy!" Matt gave his sister an urgent look as he wiped dough-covered hands on an apron that nearly grazed his shoes.
Lacy’s eyes widened. "Oh, I almost said it," she cried, and covered her mouth with a sticky hand.
"A surprise? For me?" Josie laughed.
Cord watched her joke with his children. He hadn’t heard Josie’s laugh in what seemed like ages. He drank the sound in, then scowled at himself.
"For you an’ Daddy," Lacy said. "C’mon, you hafta sit at your table now." She grabbed Cord’s hand and pulled the two of them toward the door to the dining room.
"You two go get seated, and I’ll bring out your supper," Grace called after them.
Cord steeled himself as they followed Lacy into the dining room. He wasn’t ready to be in public with Josie, not as his wife. He didn’t want well-wishes or congratulations. Hell, he wouldn’t mind if they got the damn disapproving stares, but he couldn’t pretend he was happy about this marriage. He’d had no other choice. He knew it was best, because his children needed a mother, and needed to be with him, but he still didn’t like it.
Cord breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the nearly empty dining room. The Muckle Brothers’ sawmill didn’t pay out until Friday, like the shipyard. It would be busy then. He avoided the eyes of the few patrons who filled tables.
Lacy led them to a corner table. "I picked the flowers myself," she said proudly, pointing to the small vase of daisies.
"They’re beautiful, Lacy," Josie said.
Matt pulled out her chair and gestured to it with a flourish.
"Why, thank you, sir."
Lacy pulled out Cord’s chair with some effort. "Sit down, Daddy," she giggled.
"Thanks, Sweetpea."
Matt pulled himself up to his full height and cleared his throat. "You want somethin’ to drink?"
"Matthew! You’re s’posta say it fancy," Lacy whispered loudly.
"I forgot how," he whispered back, pushing her. "Shut up."
"You can have coffee, an’ milk, an’ lemonade," Lacy said.
"Coffee is fine, Sweetpea," Cord said. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his mouth. The pair rarely cooperated, and were trying so hard to act grown up.
"Annie Gracie hasta get the coffee," Lacy said, disappointment weighing her words.
"I’d like a..." Josie started, then abruptly stopped.
He looked across the table at her. She chewed on her lip and eyed him warily, as if waiting for him to say it was all right to talk. Cord sighed. Hell, he wasn’t a cruel man. The only reason he’d tried to distance Josie from the kids was because he hadn’t planned on letting her stay. Or on marrying her. But now she was their mother, like it or not.
"How ‘bout a lemonade?" he said to her.
Josie nodded. What might have been the beginning of a smile touched the corner of her mouth. "Sounds good."
"Coffee and lemonade, Miss Lacy," Cord said.
"We’ll be right back!" Lacy cried, and skipped off to the kitchen. Matt followed, grumbling at his sister to slow down.
"I wonder what their surprise is?" Josie said, running the tip of her finger along the petal of a daisy.
Cord turned his gaze from her soft caressing of the flower. "I don’t know, but they’re having an awful lot of fun."
"Maybe you could smile then, so they think you are, too," she said softly.
Cord scrubbed a hand down his chin. He had to remember they were newlyweds in public. "I wonder what we’re eating."
As if on cue, Grace emerged from the kitchen, balancing two plates of food.
"Looks like we’re about to find out," said Josie.
"Well, I hope you two are hungry," Grace said as she approached, "because I made you my specialty--steak and pepper gravy with mashed potatoes." She set plates mounded with food in front of them. "Save some room for dessert, now."
One thing about Grace, she never let a body go hungry. Cord tucked into his meal, savoring the aroma of meat, garlic and pepper. He bit into a slice of steak, closing his eyes as its juices ran across his tongue, filling his mouth with pleasure. Perfectly cooked, just the way he liked it. Grace could wave a steak across the grill like no other. Between chews he noticed Josie wasn’t eating. She sat staring at her plate.
"Somethin’ wrong with yours?" He caught the small flinch she made and frowned. He hadn’t meant to sound so gruff.
"No, it’s...fine. It smells wonderful," she said. "I’ve just never..."
"Never what?" he said, shoving another forkful of meat into his mouth.
"I’ve never had an actual steak before. I’ve never seen this much meat on one plate. Am I supposed to eat all of this?"
"You’ve never had steak before? Ever?" He watched her with curiosity as she gingerly pierced the meat with her fork and sliced off a tiny piece. Her eyes widened when the luscious juices ran out onto her plate.
"Is it supposed to bleed like that?"
Cord nodded. "Best way to eat it. Sop some up with your bread, too."
He supposed she could be telling the truth. She’d come from a poor family, and probably hadn’t been taken good care of later. He watched her put the tender meat into her mouth. Watching her, he almost felt like he was the one tasting the steak for the first time. She chewed it slowly, savoring, tasting, relishing. She looked up at him, surprise on her features.
"It’s very good," she said. "Not at all tough or spicy. Not like what they used to feed us at--" She stopped and looked down at the plate. "Well, it’s very good anyway," she said quietly. She sliced another piece and chewed it with enthusiasm.
Cord tucked into his own meal and tried to ignore the soft sounds of pleasure she made as she devoured her steak. He’d never seen her eat with such gusto. He’d seen kids at the foundling home eat like that, kids off the orphan trains who hadn’t been adopted and hadn’t had a decent meal in days. He almost choked on a bite when he realized he’d envisioned Josie as one of those orphans.
Maybe her life hadn’t been easy, but she’d chosen it. Those orphans hadn’t.
"One lemonade," Lacy said, setting a half-full glass next to Josie.
"Here’s the rest," Matt said, holding another glass. "Lacy spills stuff, so Grace only let her carry half."
"I do not!"
"You do too, Lacy."
"I didn’t spill any." Lacy stuck her little fists on her hips. Cord fought back a grin.
"That’s because it was half full, stupid."
"All right, you two," Grace said, bustling over with a pot of coffee. "Get back in that kitchen. You’re shift isn’t over yet."
Lacy stood on tip toe and leaned toward Cord’s ear. "You better eat your carrots, Daddy," she whispered. "Matt says if you don’ eat ‘em, then he won’t eat his."
Cord smiled and winked at her. He speared a chunk of carrot and stuck it in his mouth. "Mmm-mm. Love carrots," he said, grinning and chewing.
Matt gave his sister an irritated glare. "C’mon, Lacy."
The kids fled back into the kitchen as Grace set down a cup and filled it with steaming, fragrant coffee. "How’s that? You two enjoying the meal?"
Cord sipped the hot coffee and gave her a wide smile. "You’re the best, Gracie. Can’t deny it."
"Well, the two of you could use some fattening up. Don’t forget to save room for dessert." Grace whisked off to fill cups at the occupied tables across the dining room.
"I can’t believe I ate so much," Josie said, sighing. "And I haven’t touched my carrots either."
"Better have some, or Matt will have an excuse not to eat his."
She smiled briefly and ducked her head, poking at her plate with her fork. "Well, I’m afraid we’ve got a few rows in the garden. I don’t think when he planted them he thought about actually having to eat them."
Cord stuffed another bite of the delicious steak into his mouth. He’d regret it probably when he tried to get up from his chair, but he couldn’t help clearing his plate.
"Honey," she said.
Cord looked across the table at Josie, startled. He hastily swallowed the mouthful of potatoes he was working on.
"She glazed the carrots with honey," Josie continued. "I hadn’t thought of that. They’re already sweet, but the honey adds a layer of flavor. I’ll have to try it."
Cord grunted a reply and pushed his empty plate away. He should be relieved that it hadn’t been an endearment, but he was almost disappointed.
"I hope you two left room for dessert." Grace bustled to them with her coffee pot. Lacy and Matt emerged from behind her, carrying a huge pie.
"Look, Daddy, we made a pie! Jus’ for you an’ Annie Josie."
One look at the patched, misshapen top of the pie told him the children had indeed made it.
"It’s more beautiful than any I’ve ever made, you two," Josie said. "What kind is it?"
"Well, we had a bit of argument over what kind to make," Grace said.
"That figures." Cord held his cup while Grace filled it with more coffee.
"It’s got strawberries, raspberries, an’ blueberries," Matt explained, a proud smile on his face.
"With some rhubarb for good measure," added Grace.
"I put the top on, Daddy."
"I can see that, Sweetpea. Can’t wait to try it."
"We’ll leave you alone now." Grace winked and grabbed their dinner plates, shooing the children back into the kitchen.
Josie cut him a wide slice and a smaller one for herself. They ate in silence for a time, watching out the window as the light slowly faded and turned into dusk.
"It’s very good," Josie said, dabbing at the corner of her mouth with a napkin. She missed a small spot of juice on her chin. Cord tried to ignore it and took another bite.
"This was really very sweet of Grace. It meant a lot to the kids," she said.
Cord fixed his gaze on his plate to avoid staring at the glistening drop of purple juice below her lip. "Yeah. Better finish that, or they’ll think you didn’t like it."
She smiled briefly, poking at her plate with her fork. "I’m afraid I’m completely full. You’ll have to roll me out of here. But I think I can just manage to finish this piece."
Cord watched her slip another bite into her mouth. That damn drip on her chin was beginning to get to him. Right below that bottom lip of hers, so full and inviting. He remembered tasting that lip. What would it taste like with purple pie juice on it? The thought sent blood rushing to his groin.
He couldn’t stand it any longer. "Look, you’ve got a bit of something here," he said, pointing to his own chin.
"Oh, thank you." She dabbed at her chin.
"No, you missed it. Here," he said, pointing again.
She wiped the side of her mouth and got part of it. Cord took his napkin and leaned over the table. "Here, let me," he said, gently wiping her chin.
She fixed her blue eyes on him. Surprise and wariness shone in them. "Thank you."
Cord cleared his throat and tossed his napkin on the table. "Guess we better head home. Let’s go say goodnight."
They said their goodbyes to Grace and the children, lingering in the kitchen until Grace practically shoved them out the door. Neither wanted to go back to that empty house.
Outside, Cord drank in the breeze blowing off the river, though it didn’t offer much relief from the humidity.
Beside him, Josie groaned. "I ate too much."
Cord smiled. "Grace knows how to feed folks, that’s for sure."
"I need to walk some of this off."
Cord suppressed a groan of his own. He either needed to walk off dinner himself, or undo his top pants button. A walk seemed the best choice. "Let’s cross to the river side." He took Josie’s elbow and guided her across the street to the wooden sidewalk. The music of water lapping at the rocky shore met his ears. A tall schooner lay in dry dock past the Muckle Brothers’ mill. Fresh sawdust scented the air around them. Cord strolled to the Old Oak and stopped.
"Shouldn’t go much farther. Not the best part of town," he said, leaning against the tree’s rough bark.
Josie stood in the fading evening light, gazing off at the river as if she could see down into the dark depths of the water. The sunset glowed in her hair and lit her smooth skin. Cord tore his gaze away from her sad profile and looked off across the river at the dark shoreline of Washington State.
"Why is this tree here?" she asked. "It’s the only one. Seems odd, so close to the sawmill."
"It’s special. Lewis and Clark camped under it on their expedition. So the town built a sidewalk around it."
Josie ran her slim fingers along the rough surface of the bark, slowly, almost reverently. He knew the feel of those fingers. And for the first time in his life, he was jealous of a damn tree. Cord scowled at himself. He took in a deep breath of pine-scented air, willing his body to stop its betrayal. She was his wife only because he needed her to be, not because he wanted her. He had to remember that. Their marriage wasn’t real.
"We better head back home," he said, pushing himself off the tree.