of her stomach churned as Grant’s hand enclosed Raven’s talons.
Toby scooted next to Grant, staring up at this new adult as if she’d stepped out of a storybook.
“What a cute boy,” Raven simpered, not taking her eyes off the man to spare a glance for the child. “Is he yours?”
“Definitely not.”
“Good,” Raven retorted, with a pleased smile on those red-violet lips.
Jami and Toby glanced from Raven to Grant and back again, mother and son wearing matching scowls on their faces. “Let’s go sit down,” Jami whispered, leading Toby to a chair beside a stern-looking gentleman with a brown beard and thinning hair. The older man watched through thick-lensed, horn-rimmed glasses as Toby scooted into the chair, and Jami sat next to her son.
“Hello,” the gentleman rasped in a rusty sounding voice. “I’m Doctor Wilbur Tolaski, Professor of Ornithology at Boston University.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jami responded with a smile over the top of Toby’s head. “I’m Jami Rhodes and this is my son, Toby.”
“I’m Dottie Hammersmith,” piped one older woman down the table. Where dimples had once indented her cheeks, years had carved twin grooves. Otherwise Dottie’s round face and rounded features fit her plump, matronly body. With her gun-metal gray hair worn ultra-short, and dressed in a splashy Hawaiian mumu, she appeared to be a mirror image of the woman next to her.
“I’m Dottie’s sister, Doris Hammersmith,” the mirror image informed them. “We’re retired schoolteachers from Denver, here for nature walks.”
“Of course, we aren’t experts like the professor,” Dottie added evasively.
“I’m on a bird-watching expedition,” Professor Tolaski informed them with a matter-of-fact air. “I intend to study species unique to the Rocky Mountains and unavailable in Massachusetts.”
“How interesting,” Jami stammered, not sure of what to say. Congratulations? Good viewing? Did you clean your field glasses? She bit back her inane responses and tried to ignore Grant as he held the chair for Raven McGuire. He took the empty chair next to Raven, confirming Jami’s womanizer theory and adding to her vexation.
“Why are you here?” Dottie asked, leaning forward as if whatever Jami said would be fodder for gossip.
“I was overdue for a vacation, and my son and I had never been to the Rockies,” Jami answered in a rush, too embarrassed to mention the Cupid trip, especially since her computer-selected Mr. Right seemed captivated by Raven with the violet eyes.
“And what about the attractive young couple who just joined us?” Doris queried as all heads swiveled toward Grant and Raven.
“They’re not a couple,” Becca matter-of-factly announced, swinging back into the dining room while balancing a huge platter piled with steaming barbecued chicken.
“We just met,” Grant clarified to Jami’s satisfaction as she noticed annoyance flash through Raven McGuire. “I’m Grant Carrington, from Houston. I come to Frost Lake every year.”
Jami noticed that he hadn’t said a word about their Cupid vacation, either. It annoyed her that Grant had not, regardless of her own omission.
The mouth-watering aroma of the barbecued chicken reminded Jami of her hunger, since she had hardly touched their picnic lunch, having lost her appetite after she and Grant had argued over her business habits.
Becca winked as she offered Jami first choice of a wicker basket full of fresh-from-the-oven buttermilk biscuits. The table already held a combination vegetable and relish tray plus a bowl of perfectly steamed dark green asparagus spears.
“Well, then, Miss, who are you?” Dottie demanded of Raven as her sister added, “You don’t seem the type to frequent country bed and breakfast inns to me.”
“I am Raven McGuire,” Raven answered loftily, gazing down her regal nose at the Hammersmith sisters. “My dear departed husband, Kyle, left me a B & B in Aspen. Before I decide whether to sell or keep it, I thought I’d scope out regional competition.” The young widow smiled smugly as Dottie and Doris whispered to each other, before she haughtily added, “First I stayed at a cozy inn at Park City, now here. Sun Valley is next on my list.”
Raven’s fellow guests appeared unimpressed, everyone suddenly concentrating on their meal.
“You have my condolences.” Grant watched the young widow, remembering how the shock of loss had hit his mother when Dad passed away. Now his mother was a whirlwind again, but it had taken over a year of deep mourning to reclaim her spirit. His heart went out to anyone who’d lost a loved one. To this day, he still missed his father. “I’m so sorry about your husband.”
“Don’t be,” Raven replied in a sultry voice. “It was a blessing. The