a great idea.”
“I cooked your favorite dinner, too.”
She took a deep breath and inhaled the spicy scent of his secret tomato sauce recipe. “I thought I could smell lasagna, but I assumed it was coming from the neighbor’s house. My tummy’s rumbling already.”
John grinned and kissed her smiling lips. “In that case, let’s eat.”
While they took the dinner John had prepared out of the container, Shelley sighed. “I didn’t think the open-plan kitchen and living area would look so good.”
“Neither did I.” Considering they’d started with water-damaged ceilings and walls, rats’ nests, and years of dirt and grime everywhere, it was a miracle the cottage looked so charming.
Patrick and his team had worked hard. Like the entryway, the walls in the living area were painted a soft shade of white. Somehow, they’d rescued the ornate ceiling rose and found a fiberglass company who could replicate the original coving. With the wide skirting boards and heavy wooden doors, the room felt like an upmarket residential development instead of a once derelict house.
Shelley sniffed the homemade loaf of garlic bread John gave her. “This smells delicious.”
“I taught my students how to make bread in the hospitality class today.”
“Is there anything you aren’t good at?”
John grinned. “If you want a manicure, I’m the worst person to ask. But apart from that, I’m almost perfect.”
She laughed. “And modest, too. Can I do anything to help with dinner?”
Carefully, he scooped the lasagna onto their plates, then added some salad. “The only thing I need is the wine. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Shelley frowned as he opened the new French doors and disappeared outside.
Before Patrick and his team had left, he’d buried a bottle of white wine in a mound of snow. Hopefully, it hadn’t frozen solid. As he cautiously stepped across the old wooden deck, a bright light shone toward him. Shelley had turned on the flashlight on her cell phone.
“Thanks. It’s more slippery out here than I thought.”
“What are you doing?”
“I covered the wine in snow to chill—” A high-pitched meow came from beside the cottage. Shelley swung her cell phone to the right and a dirty tabby cat stared up at John.
“Don’t move,” Shelley whispered. Leaving her phone leaning against a wooden post, she went inside. A few seconds later, she was tiptoeing across the deck with a plate in her hands. “Here, kitty, kitty.”
It didn’t take long for John to work out what she was doing. In the middle of the plate was a small portion of the lasagna. “Do you feed all the stray cats?”
Shelley slid the plate close to the cat. “It could be the kittens’ mom,” she whispered.
The cat ran forward, devouring the lasagna in three hungry mouthfuls. Before Shelley could entice it closer, the cat wrapped itself around her legs.
John didn’t have to hear Shelley’s soft sigh to know their romantic dinner for two had just gone in another direction.
Slowly, she lowered her hand and stroked the stray tabby. A few seconds later, she picked up the cat and held it close to her chest. The cat was purring like an out of tune trumpet.
John took the bottle of wine out of the snow and picked up Shelley’s cell phone. “Let’s go inside. I’ll call the animal shelter and see if the kittens are still there.”
“If the shelter’s closed, call Mabel. She knows the person who organizes the volunteers.”
As he held open the door, John looked at the LED candles flickering in their glass containers and sighed. Dinner was now officially postponed.
An hour later, Shelley opened the door to her sister’s cottage.
Mila rushed across the room to meet her. “Bailey told me about the cat you found. Was it the kittens’ mommy?”
She hugged her niece-to-be. Steven and Mila were having dinner with Bailey—which was a lot more than she’d managed to do with John. “The lady at the animal shelter said she’s almost certain the cat is their mom.”
John closed the door behind her and carried a box of food into the kitchen. “Hi, Mila.”
“Hi, Pastor John.” Mila followed John. “Did you bring the cat home with you?”
John smiled at Bailey and Steven before unpacking their dinner. “We left her with the kittens at the animal shelter. The volunteers will look after the cats until they find a forever home.”
“What does the mommy cat look like, Shelley?”
“She has bright blue eyes and a little pink nose. Her fur is white, orange, and brown—just like one of the kittens.”
Steven turned on the coffeepot. “It sounds as though you