Honeysuckle Season Page 19

“I have. Helped Miss Olivia raise Elaine when her folks died. Met my husband here and raised my kids on this property.” Margaret spoke with pride. She was as much a part of this place, maybe more so, than the Carter family.

The woman’s entire life had been spent in such a small area. Was this what the rest of Libby’s life was going to look like? “That’s amazing.”

Margaret peered in the pot. “Good, the water is boiling. I must admit this stove works a good deal faster than my old one.”

“What are you making?”

“Noodles for the boys. They’d starve without them. I’ve roasted a chicken for us along with potatoes and a salad.”

“Terrific. Can I help you with anything?”

“You can help me set the table. It would have been done by now if I hadn’t had this stove to tangle with.”

“Sure.”

Sipping her wine, Libby crossed to the long mahogany table and set down her glass. She smoothed her hand over the polished wood, which smelled faintly of lemons. The dishes were Wedgwood china. They were ivory with faint blue flowers ringing a silver edge. The glass was crystal. “Putting out the finest, I see.”

From the refrigerator Margaret removed a glass pitcher filled with ice tea and sliced lemons.

“Elaine wanted to use the best. Though I’m giving Sam and Jeff plastic cups no matter what Elaine says.”

Libby set the seven plates out carefully and placed the silverware. Glass went just above the knife and spoon. She folded each green linen napkin on several diagonals, creating seven pyramid shapes.

“Well, look at you,” Margaret said.

“Hard to work in the wedding business and not know how to fold a napkin.”

“I thought you took pictures.”

“I’ve spent plenty of time in the catering kitchens eating a quick meal and helping the staff in a pinch. I not only can fold napkins and turn on stoves, but I also can cut a wedding cake in even slices and sew up torn or ripped wedding dresses,” she said with a laugh.

“Torn dresses?”

“Amazing how many grooms and fathers of the bride step on dress trains.”

The sound of barking and young boys’ laughter had her turning to the window to see Colton and his two sons walking toward the house with Sarge and Kelce. The boys were throwing a ball, but only Kelce chased it. Sarge yawned.

Colton had changed into a light-blue shirt and clean jeans. His hair was brushed off his face, and he had shaved. The boys were also dressed in clean jeans and T-shirts. And like their father, each boy had his damp hair brushed back, showing a few freckles from the sun.

“The world is about to stop turning,” Margaret exclaimed while smiling at the boys. “It was hard enough getting those boys cleaned up for the wedding, and now they’re cleaned up again! Tonight must be for your benefit, Libby.”

“I didn’t realize I was such a big deal,” Libby said.

“Oh, you’re all right. Elaine has been a nervous Nellie since she invited you to the property this morning. Is the house clean enough? What food will she like? What should I wear? What will we do? Endless fretting.”

“Why fuss over me?”

Margaret shrugged. “You’ll have to ask her.”

The side door opened, and Colton, keeping Kelce and Sarge outside, hustled his two young sons into the kitchen. His gaze swept briefly over Libby, and she had the vague sense he liked what he saw.

Desire had once burned in Jeremy’s gaze, but the fires had dimmed with each miscarriage. Their sex had become mechanical as they had focused on making a baby, and when that had failed, his desire had turned to something that was less. It was as if he no longer saw her as a person, a woman, and he pitied her on some level. That pity was what drove her out of the house.

There was no sympathy in Colton’s gaze, and for a brief moment she remembered that it had been two years since she had been intimate.

“The dinner smells good,” he said, striding toward the stove. He kissed Margaret on the cheek. “Hope there’s enough to feed an army.”

“You and your two privates are the closest thing,” Margaret said.

The boys lingered close to their father, both staring up at Libby. The youngest boy was a replica of his father and had dark hair and thoughtful brown eyes. The older one was a shade fairer and had more freckles over the bridge of his nose.

“Libby, I’d like you to meet my boys,” Colton said. “Jeff is the older of the two, but Sam is only a year behind him.”

“I remember you two from the wedding,” she said, smiling. “You boys looked very handsome in your suits.” Like their father, they had worn dark-blue suits, white shirts, and no ties.

Colton coaxed Jeff forward with a gentle nudge. The boy extended his hand to Libby. “I’m Jeff. I’m seven.”

“He’s six,” Sam said.

Jeff shot his brother an angry look. “I’ll be seven in two weeks. Close enough.”

“You’re still six.”

She took Jeff’s hand, surprised by the strength of his grip. “I’m Libby McKenzie. Pleased to meet you.”

The younger boy, not to be ignored, elbowed his way past his brother. He put out his hand, waiting for Libby to shift her focus from his brother to him.

When she did, he grinned. “I’m Sam. I’m really five, and I’m in kindergarten.”

“Wow, that’s pretty big,” Libby said.

Jeff rolled his eyes. “I’m almost in second grade. That’s bigger.”

“It is not!” Sam said.

“It is too, dummy,” Jeff retorted.

“Watch the language,” Colton warned.

“Well, kindergarten is not bigger than second grade,” Jeff said.

Libby felt her nerves ease. “I think you both are very big for your ages. I would have thought you both were much older. Maybe fourth or fifth grade.”

The boys looked at each other. Jeff looked pleased. Sam scrunched his face as if to say, “There!”

“Libby brought wine,” Margaret said. “And there’s beer in the refrigerator.”

“I’ll grab a beer.” Colton moved to the new refrigerator. “Mom, how do you like all the fancy new equipment?”

“We’re still getting acquainted. So far, it’s giving me fits.”

He handed two sodas to the boys, allowing Jeff to open his own and try to open Sam’s. The little boy protested, insisting he could do it himself. Colton waited patiently, watching him struggle with the tab. When he tried to help, Sam refused. Colton left the boy to figure out the can and filled a bowl of water, which he set outside for the dogs. As he grabbed a beer from the refrigerator for himself, Sam held out the can to him.

“Dad, it’s broken,” Sam moaned.

Colton set down his beer and popped the top on the soda and then his beer. “Here, buddy.” He turned to Libby. “Mom has been fighting the old kitchen for years. The burners always needed repair, the old freezer was temperamental, and it’s a miracle the house didn’t burn down. It was a love-hate relationship.”

“Well, I’m not ashamed to say I miss what I now don’t have. She was a fine kitchen who served this family for years.” Margaret set out a plate of crackers and cheese on the table. Both boys grabbed several chunks of cheese.

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