“Happy birthday,” Grace said, placing a kiss on Kristine’s cheek as she slid a box of cookies onto the counter.
Kristine recognized the box and smiled. “Tell me there are some of those chocolate-dipped peanut butter cookies in there.”
“Of course,” she answered, slipping the knockoff Peekaboo bag from her shoulder and hanging it on the back of a chair.
“Unless you want Caemon digging through that, I’d hang it on one of the high hooks by the back door.”
Grace followed Kristine’s instructions. “Where is Mr. Mischief?”
“He’s doing puzzles with Granddad.”
“What can I do to help?” she asked, pushing up the sleeves of her black turtleneck.
“Steal Eliza from Gloria. I could put you to work chopping fruit, but I know holding a baby is more your speed.”
“Everyone is here to celebrate your birthday. Tell me what needs doing and go join the party.”
“Honestly, I don’t even know what I’m doing. Robyn told me to slice tomato and mozzarella.”
“Sounds like she wants bruschetta. Got it. She’s on her way?” Grace tried to ask casually.
Kristine leaned into Grace. “With a lasagna she made me for my birthday.”
“It really is too bad that woman doesn’t like me when I could so get used to her cooking.” And kissing, she thought to herself.
“There’s a filly you wouldn’t mind having in your barn?” Kristine asked, resting the backs of her elbows against the counter instead of leaving to join the party.
“Are you for real?”
“She is,” Gloria said, breezing through to grab a bottle of wine and a few glasses.
Kristine wiggled her eyebrows in response. “And taken,” she added as Gloria passed through the kitchen, planting a kiss on her and attempting to catch her in an embrace.
“Hands off! I’ve been sent in for drinks. I’ve got wine for my dad, but I told your brother and Dani you’d be out with their beers.”
“You bet.” After she pulled the drinks from the fridge, she returned to her original question. “Is it just her cooking, or could you really be interested in her?”
“I realize I don’t know her well,” Grace said, slicing the Roma tomatoes precisely. “But I would very much like to.”
“Why not ask her out?” Kristine asked. Bottle tops off, she held three beers, poised to join the party.
“Her tenant divulged that she’s only recently out of a long relationship. She’s not ready for me.”
Kristine laughed. “Would anyone ever be ready for you?”
Grace joined in the laughter. “Of course not! No one is ever ready for a fiery redhead.”
A cheer rose from the living room. “They’re not supposed to be having fun without me,” Kristine said. “I’m off to investigate.”
Moments later, Grace felt Robyn’s presence in the kitchen. The flit of butterflies in her stomach made her want to say something saucy, but she checked herself. “Would it be easier if I left the kitchen to you?” she asked, wanting to make Robyn’s life less complicated.
“No,” Robyn answered simply. “Kristine said you volunteered to help?”
“Happy to,” Grace answered cautiously, wondering if Kristine was working some mischief of her own.
The kitchen felt smaller than it had when she’d shared it with Kristine. Robyn wasn’t a lot taller or more muscular, but she carried none of Kristine’s zany energy. Robyn’s posture brought a cool formality that made Grace feel like she needed to take care. As they worked side by side, Grace was tempted to talk, her mind spinning on the information she had about Robyn’s breakup and her ex. She imagined sharing the dating fiasco she’d experienced with Meg. She ran several conversations in her head at the same time wondering if Robyn’s mind was equally busy.
For all of the caution she felt initially, the longer they stood without talking, the more Grace relaxed. She began to carry the sides out to the table, ignoring Kristine’s attempt to excuse her from the kitchen.
She’d assured Kristine that she was having a fine time, pleased to be able to free her from the party details. Returning to the kitchen, she said, “That lasagna smells divine. And you made that bread, didn’t you?” she asked.
“Kristine said they enjoyed the bread I brought when Eliza was first born.”
“Yes, I remember.” Grace saw Robyn’s hands pause at the task of slicing olives for the salad. She wanted to place her hand between those still shoulder blades. Touching people came naturally to her, yet while Robyn’s body called to her, she sensed the action would push her further into retreat.
She felt a ridiculous desire to protect Robyn from the praise she would obviously receive when they sat down to eat. “Surely you know that people love everything you make.”
Robyn’s light blue eyes flicked to her, and Grace could see that she didn’t know. She might hear the kind words people said, but she didn’t believe them in her heart. “Salad’s finished,” she said, carrying it out to the table.
Tucking away her newfound knowledge of Robyn’s modesty, Grace joined her at the decked out table, surprised when she sat next to her. Robyn chatted easily about her grandmother’s recipes and how she remembered working the same garden plots in her backyard with her grandparents during the summer. The guests at the table echoed her reverence for family, and Grace felt envious of how lucky Kristine was to be surrounded by such loving people, both relatives and friends. Caemon clearly adored his grandparents and was over-the-moon excited to see his Uncle Gabe. Kristine’s brother had driven from Quincy with his friends Hope and Dani.
Ironically, it was Robyn who engaged the couple, who had used Kristine’s birthday as an excuse to visit Eureka with their one-year-old daughter, Joy. Robyn and Hope talked gardening, Hope earning Caemon’s immediate respect when she admitted that she prepared her garden with a small tractor. Although Kristine had introduced Dani as the subject of the rodeo series she’d sent to the gallery in Houston, Grace had failed to use that tidbit to generate a conversation. Normally, it would have given her all she needed, yet she found herself drawing back from the group, observing rather than participating.
How many of her birthdays had she celebrated without her parents when they were still alive, believing that it didn’t matter since she’d see them the next holiday? Four birthdays had passed. She and Leah didn’t even call each other anymore, largely because of Grace’s refusal to give their brother another chance.
Eliza began to fuss in Gloria’s lap prompting her to push back from the table. Grace intercepted her. “I’ll change her. You enjoy your food hot.”
Gloria accepted, and Grace cradled the baby against her chest, carrying her back to the room the children shared. “I hope your brother is like your uncle Gabe,” she whispered as she changed Eliza’s diaper. “I’m guessing he’s why you and Caemon look so much like your mama, isn’t he?” She blinked back tears to finish her task, swooping the baby into her arms, applying her like a balm to the heartache that burned in her chest.
Even if she’d wanted children, she couldn’t ask her brother whose troubled past had shattered her trust in him. She dabbed at her tears. Another thing he had taken from her, whether she wanted it or not. Again, his choices affected others, and she knew he would never admit to it, would never own that if not for his needing to be bailed out yet again, their parents would still be alive.