got so much harder. When I bake with Maxie and eat at your table, I remember those times the social worker gave me supplemental protein drinks so I’d have enough calories for the pregnancy and I… I just never thought I’d have this kind of life—picking food from the garden, baking in a warm kitchen, sitting with my children at a table filled with such happiness and laughter… .”
He found himself stroking the hair over her ear. He had an unwelcome flash of Darla in her expensive boots, picking at her meal, taking it all for granted. He reminded himself that Darla shouldn’t be ridiculed for making something of herself. And she’d certainly had her own heartache.
“When Chad left me in this town, even though I didn’t know how we would survive, I was so relieved that he was gone, that I was in a place not so terrifying, and… If it hadn’t been for Noah…”
Tom wrapped his hand around her upper arm. “Did he hurt you?”
“Noah?” she asked, incredulous. “Of course not! Noah helped, but I didn’t make it easy for him. It’s so hard for me to trust anyone.”
He smiled at her. “But you trust Maxie?”
“Yes,” she said with a sniff and a smile. “I love Maxie.”
“And Adie?”
“Adie would never hurt a fly,” she said.
“Martha?”
“Martha is strong. So good, so responsible. I love her independence.”
“Jed?” he asked.
“It’s coming. I get more sure of him every week. He’s been so good to me. I’m going to let Maxie have a crack at him. If she trusts him…”
“Maxie has a sixth sense about things like that. I don’t know where she got it. Living life, I guess. And… me?” he asked. “You trust me?”
She gave him a shy smile. “I think so, yes,” she said.
“What do you think of stuffed grape leaves?” he asked.
A short burst of laughter escaped her. “I have absolutely no idea.”
“I bet you’d like them. And kabobs—you’d like them, too.”
“Tom, sometimes you confuse me.”
“Are you better now? As in, done crying?”
“I’ve done more crying since I met you than I’ve done in the past couple of years, and the past few years were definitely cry-worthy. I don’t think you bring out my best. I get so vulnerable around you. I tell you things I never tell anyone.”
“I think that’s okay. It means you think of me as a friend. Now here’s what we have to do, Nora. You have to dry your tears and go with me back in the kitchen. You don’t want the women to worry about you.”
“Right,” she agreed, wiping her eyes.
“Dinner’s ready,” he said. He held her beer toward her. “Want a sip?”
“Thanks,” she said, fitting her lips to the bottle. She tilted it up and took a swallow. She stood and gave him his jacket back. “This turned out to be so much more than a job, Tom,” she said. “I want you to know how much I appreciate it.”
“I know. Let’s get some dinner. I’m starving.”
“Me, too. Even though I sampled all day long.”
Dinner was some of Maxie’s best stew, a salad thrown together by Adie and bread baked by Nora—her bread debut. For her efforts, she took home a batch of cinnamon rolls and promised to be back bright and early to pick apples.
After Nora, the children and Adie had been loaded up, Tom said to Maxie, “Once the festival weekends are behind us, would you be willing to babysit one evening? I think I’d like to take Nora over to Arcata for dinner.”
She lifted her brows. “Really? Why?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “Because her gratitude for every little thing, even the things she has to work hardest for, is so damn charming.”
“But what about Miss Picky Pants?”
“Maxie,” he warned.
“I slip sometimes,” she said with a shrug.
“Right… .”
“I think those little girls are divine,” she said. “I’d be happy to babysit while you take their mother out. I bet she hasn’t had a date in forever.”
“We’re just friends,” he pointed out.
“I bet she hasn’t had dinner out with a friend in forever. I’m going to run over to the coast and hit Costco for some movies—like Disney DVDs or something.” Then she smiled very approvingly.
* * *
Jack drove out to the Riordans’ house and parked right in front. As luck would