For the Love of Ivy - Cindy Kirk Page 0,14

chair. “Is your microwave broken?”

“Works fine.” He stopped scooping cocoa into two Christmas mugs and looked up. “Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering why you’re heating the water on the stove instead of in the microwave.” Lauren forced herself to sound as nonjudgmental as possible. “I don’t know anyone who uses teakettles anymore.”

Seth’s gaze shifted to the stove and a look she couldn’t decipher crossed his face.

“Jan always used one. She loved the way they whistled. She said it was such a happy sound. Even when she was dying, if I put on the teakettle, she—” Seth stopped and cleared his throat. “I use it in the winter because the house gets dry. It does a good job of putting humidity back into the air.”

Anna had mentioned her sister-in-law had died from an aggressive form of breast cancer. That was the extent of what Lauren knew about the woman.

“Jan was your wife.” Lauren said it as a statement of fact rather than a question. “Anna mentions her from time to time.”

Seth nodded, but was saved from saying more when the kettle began to whistle.

“I can help.” Lauren rose from her seat at the kitchen table as she spoke.

Seth waved her back down. “Under control.”

Lauren waited until he’d taken his seat, the mugs before them filled with rich hot chocolate topped with several fluffy marshmallows, before she returned to the topic. ‘Tell me about your wife,” she urged in a soft, low voice that encouraged confidences. “Tell me about Jan.”

Seth took a sip of cocoa, his gaze watchful. “What do you want to know?”

“I didn’t have the pleasure of meeting her,” Lauren inclined her head. “I’d like you to share things that will help me get to know her.”

“Why are you interested?” he asked, his tone more curious than resistant.

“You and Ivy are my friends.” Lauren spoke as if the answer was obvious. “If I do end up caring for your daughter, knowing something about her mother would be beneficial.”

“Makes sense,” Seth grudgingly agreed. He took a sip of cocoa then placed his mug on the table. “Jan grew up on a ranch, just outside Sweet River. I knew her my whole life. She was a homebody. She loved to cook, sew and quilt. In fact, she was making a quilt for Ivy when she died. She thought she’d get it finished but—”

He pushed back his chair with a clatter and jerked to his feet. “I forgot the cookies.”

The last thing Lauren wanted was more food but she let him go, pretending she hadn’t seen the tears in his eyes. She leaned back in her chair, sipping her hot cocoa while he grabbed the plastic container of cookies from the counter. His bootheels clacked on the hardwood as he returned to the table and plopped the container between them.

“Have one.” He dropped into a chair and shoved the container closer. The eyes that met hers were clear and very blue.

Though she knew he’d used the cookies as a distraction, Lauren’s mouth began to water as she gazed at all the varieties. She took a cookie...just to be polite. As she downed a clumsily decorated—yet still delicious— Nutter-Butter-Santa, she waited for Seth to continue his story. She waited. And waited. And waited.

Lauren didn’t relish playing twenty questions but it appeared she had no choice. She wanted to learn more about Seth’s wife. Not because she was nosy, but because losing a mother at such a young age was hard on a child. Understanding the dynamics of the family relationship would help her better meet Ivy’s needs. Okay, and maybe assuage her curiosity at the same time.

“Did you two go to the same college?” Anna had told her Seth had graduated from Central Montana University in Bozeman.

“Jan didn’t attend college,” he replied.

Lauren quirked a brow.

“Higher education wasn’t her thing.” Seth shrugged. “She was smart, but it was things around the house that interested her.”

There were lots of arguments Lauren could have used, even the simple “education for the sake of education,” but she stifled the urge. Why Jan had chosen not to pursue a degree was none of Lauren’s business. “If she didn’t go to college, what did she do after high school?”

“She worked at Millsteads’ dude ranch.” Seth’s eyes took on a distant glow. “Jan was quite the history buff. She made meals for the tourists the old-fashioned way, in those big cast-iron skillets. Taught them how to make bread and soap the way the settlers did in the 1870s.”

Lauren heard the pride