Mountain Man's Accidental Surprise - K.C. Crowne Page 0,23

“We keep trying to convince her to move here, but we’re not having any luck.”

His mother stopped him. “I have my life in Tennessee. My church, my sisters and brothers, everything is there. I’m too old to leave everything behind.”

Graham shrugged. “She’s as stubborn as the rest of us.”

“I can understand, though,” I offered. “I mean, I never wanted to leave Liberty. When a place feels like home to you, it’s hard to pack up and go.”

Lillian smiled at me and said, “See, now there’s someone who understands the concept of home. I knew I would like you, Emmy.”

Lillian passed around the meatloaf next. I hadn’t had meatloaf since I was a little girl, and as soon as the dish was in my hands, the scent of it made my stomach growl.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a real, home cooked meal,” I revealed.

“Oh, why’s that, dear?” Lillian asked.

“My dad raised me alone, and he’s too busy. Plus, he’s not much of a cook.”

I left out the part about us having a chef the last few years. The problem with him was he always tried to make the fanciest of dishes for us, most of them too fancy for my tastes. It often felt like going to a restaurant rather than eating at home. Until I was there, at a table with all of them, I didn’t even realize how much I missed this type of family meal. One made with love, and not simply to showcase your skills with exotic spices and new cooking techniques.

I took a bite of the meatloaf and my eyes nearly rolled back into my head. I didn’t even know what I’d been missing all these years; I’d always assumed meatloaf couldn’t possibly be that good.

“Like it?” Lillian asked from across the table.

“Oh my God, I love it,” I moaned.

“I’ll have to share the recipe with you,” Lillian said as she took a bite.

“I’d love that.”

“Ma, you don’t just give out family recipes,” Samuel said from beside her.

“I do when the person is worthy,” she said with a wink.

We shared a look, and it was almost like she somehow knew, but she couldn’t possibly know I was pregnant with her grandchild. But there was something in that look. She seemed to think I was with Graham.

I looked at him, wondering if I should say something, but he didn’t seem to notice. I decided to let the comment slide.

Mason and Samuel were talking about a shed they were building, while Eli was talking to his mother and making plans for her travel back to Tennessee. Everything just felt so perfect. This family loved each other, they looked out for each other. I hadn’t experienced anything like it since my mother died, and while I was happy to be part of it, I was sad that this was the closest I’d probably ever get to a normal family life.

I placed a hand on my belly without thinking, as if I could communicate with the child growing inside me. I made a mental promise to him or her that I would do everything in my power to give them this kind of life. It might just be the two of us, but we could be close. I’d take care of that baby, love him or her unconditionally and cook meatloaf and grilled cheese sandwiches, and we’d sit down to eat dinner together every night. Most of all, I’d be there for my child - to make sure he or she felt loved and would always come first to me.

“So, what do you do, Emmy?” Lillian asked, interrupting my thoughts.

“I’m a student,” I said softly, then corrected myself. “Well, I’m currently out of school, but I’m hoping to start a master’s program next fall.”

“What are you studying?” Mason asked.

“My undergraduate degree is in psychology, and I’m looking into programs to become a therapist,” I said.

“That’s very impressive, dear,” Lillian complimented, waving her fork playfully at me. “See, I knew you were smart the moment I laid eyes on you. You’re definitely more than a pretty face, and I can see why Graham likes you.”

My cheeks burned and I averted my gaze for a second. “Thank you.”

I didn’t want to break the news to her that I wasn’t dating her son. I glanced at Graham again, and our eyes met. He did like me; I could see it in his eyes. He stared at me with such admiration that I felt guilty for ever thinking he might be