reach their children.
“Not long enough.”
“Remember that next time.”
Toby dug his heels in, refusing to enter the lodge. “I already told Raven I was sorry.”
“Not sincerely.” Grant took the boy’s arm and practically towed him through the doorway. “You owe your mom and the others apologies, too.”
“I got to tell everybody I’m sorry?” The boy acted like he was being forced into a torture chamber instead of the lodge kitchen where the heavenly scent of cinnamon and apples greeted them.
“What do you think?”
“All right,” Toby finally agreed as they drew closer to the dining room entry.
“Toby,” Homer called, halting them as he shuffled up from the kitchen table. “How about a game of checkers?”
“Sure,” Toby whooped. He glanced up at Grant to add, “After I ask Mom.”
“Ask your mamma if you can eat your dessert in here with Homer,” Becca suggested, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “It’s Apple Betty.”
“What? No Apple Becca?” Grant quipped, drawing a scowl from Becca, confusion from Toby, and a chuckle from Homer.
“I’ll ask my mom,” Toby said, hesitant. “But I’m not sure she’ll let me. She’s kind of mad.”
“Apologize first, then ask,” Grant recommended, remembering Jami’s fiery temper and his own experience being on the wrong side of her anger.
“Good man-to-man advice,” Homer seconded, waiting at the arched entry as Grant and Toby crossed through to the dining room table where Jami sat with the Hammersmith sisters and the professor.
“I’m sorry everybody,” Toby offered in a shy voice as he stared down at the floor. “It was bad to bring the frog to supper and scare Mrs. McGuire.”
“Apologies accepted, young man.” Professor Tolaski leaned back in his chair to peer thoughtfully at Toby.
“Livened up dinnertime,” Dottie responded with a cheery smile, her wise eyes twinkling.
“Raven must learn frogs are an important part of our ecology and nothing to be squeamish about,” Doris contributed, acting no more bothered than the other two as she nibbled away.
“Honey, you still must apologize properly to Raven.” Jami pushed away her dessert dish as she watched her truculent, ruddy-faced boy.
“I promise I will tomorrow. Don’t make me go to her room to say I’m sorry.” Toby sprang to his mother’s side, clutching her shirt sleeve. “Please, Mom. I think she’s a witch and might try to cook me like in that story.”
“‘Hansel and Gretel?’” Jami exclaimed in surprise. Toby wasn’t fond of the widow, but a witch? Now Raven certainly had acted—ah, witchy at times.
“Don’t be silly, Toby,” Dottie said, crumpling her napkin and tossing it next to her plate. “There’s no place to cook anything in our rooms.”
“That woman is a bit frightening, though,” Doris sympathized, folding her napkin into a neat square and carefully positioning it by her plate.
“Raven puts me in mind of another bird,” the professor stated in monotone fashion. “A far deadlier bird than the raven—a cassowary. The cassowary can kill or cripple a person with one swift kick of its razor-sharp claw.”
“Oh, my!” Dottie’s hand flew to her mouth. “I think we saw a cassowary once. Naturally we kept our distance.”
“We did?” Doris asked with a puzzled expression.
“You went birding in Australia and New Guinea?” Professor Tolaski queried with obvious doubt and strong sarcasm. “That is the natural habitat of cassowary.”
“Actually, no,” Doris said, appearing very uncomfortable. “Maybe we saw the cassowary at the zoo.”
“Yes, at the zoo,” Dottie quickly conceded.
Grant stood watching the exchange with a smile curving his lips. Jami caught his gaze to return his smile, then she spotted Toby shuffling his feet in a nervous manner that warned her the child wanted something. “What is it, Toby?”
“Can I eat my apple stuff in the kitchen with Homer? He wants to beat me at checkers again.”
“Okay. If you promise to apologize to Raven tomorrow.” Jami kissed his cheek. “Maybe you’ll win at checkers this time.”
“Not unless Grant helps me. Homer’s real smart.”
“So are you, partner. You don’t need my help, just some practice.” Grant patted Toby’s head and gazed at him so affectionately that Jami’s breath caught in her throat.
She bit her lip, tasting her berry lip gloss now flecked with cinnamon from dessert. Her son was bonding with Grant Carrington, and she had no idea how to stop it. Or prevent the heartache such a futile attachment would bring.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Grant requested, his gaze shifting from Jami and Toby to encompass the others. “I have things to attend to, so I’ll skip dessert.”
The professor nodded and Dottie and Doris waved him off. Only Jami appeared disappointed. Maybe he