mother had supposedly drowned, and then to military school. Even during the summers, he was often away at camp or anywhere else Caine could think to send him. But even so, the times he had been home had been enough to show him his father cared nothing for religion, unless you counted the worship of money and power.
“Jack, do you want to start the meat loaf?”
Beth’s question drew his attention back to the meal, and Jack shook off the remembrance of his lonely boyhood. He picked up the platter of meat loaf, helped himself, then passed it on.
As they ate, several things struck him. Although Jack hadn’t been around many children and so didn’t have much with which to compare them, he felt the Johnson kids were remarkably well behaved. They didn’t argue and they didn’t complain about the food. They ate enthusiastically, and when their mother spoke to them, they answered politely.
The other thing that amazed him was how comfortable he felt. These three were virtual strangers, and Jack wasn’t exactly sociable, yet he felt at home. As he ate the plain but tasty food, he tried to figure out why he was at ease, finally deciding it was because Beth and her children were different from most of the people he knew. Despite their troubles, they counted their blessings, a concept unknown to most of the people Jack knew.
“Would you like more mashed potatoes?”
Jack accepted the bowl from Beth and helped himself to seconds. “The food’s great.”
She shrugged. “It’s nothing much. Just simple country food.” The pleased expression on her face belied her offhand comment.
“Well, I like it.”
Now she smiled. “Good. Because it’s what you’re going to get from now on. Although I do promise not to serve you meat loaf more than once a week. That is,” she added quickly, “if you stay.”
Jack thought about their agreement of a week’s trial. When he’d suggested it, he’d hoped to have his answer about the supposed swindle perpetrated by his great-grandfather before the week was up, after which he’d be on his way, but now he found himself saying, “I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”
After a moment, she nodded. Then, in an obvious attempt to change the subject, she turned to Matthew and said brightly, “Matthew, honey, did Mrs. Ford give you any homework?”
“Only spelling words.”
“After supper we’ll work on them, okay?”
“Okay.”
“We didn’t even think about homework last night, the storm was so bad,” she explained to Jack.
“Where were you when the tornado hit? Here in the house?”
Beth grimaced. “Yes. There wasn’t anywhere safer to go. We just huddled inside the hall closet and prayed.”
“It was scary!” Amy said, eyes big as silver dollars.
“Yeah,” said Matthew. “It made this big roaring sound, just like a train.”
“I know. I saw a tornado once,” Jack said. Then he immediately wished he hadn’t, because where he’d seen it had been a small African country in the middle of a rebellion.
“You did?” Matthew asked.
“Yes, and you’re right, Amy, they are scary.”
“We were very lucky,” Beth said, “even though, this morning, when I saw all the damage to the greenhouses and equipment, I wasn’t thinking about being lucky. Now I’m ashamed of myself. Things can be replaced. People can’t.” Reaching out, she squeezed a hand of each of her children.
Although her eyes were downcast, Jack could swear he’d seen the glint of tears.
After a moment, she sighed deeply. “Well now, that’s enough emotion for one day. Who wants dessert?”
“Me!” shouted Matthew.
“Me!” squealed Amy.
“Me,” said Jack.
Beth grinned. “Butterscotch pudding coming right up.”
The kids downed their pudding faster than Jack would have believed possible, then they politely asked if they could be excused.
“Yes, you may, but don’t forget your spelling words, Matthew,” Beth said. “In fact, why don’t you go study them while I clean up the kitchen, then I’ll go over them with you?”
“Okay.”
The kids took off, and by the time Jack finished his pudding, Beth was already clearing the table. He began to help her.
“No, no,” she protested, “that’s not necessary. I’ll do it.”
“No big deal.” He was used to cleaning up after himself. The way he lived, he either cleaned up after himself or it didn’t get done. “If I help, the work will be finished twice as fast.”
Without further discussion, they finished clearing the table together.
Beth was all too aware of him as she washed the dishes and Jack dried them. Unlike most of the men she’d known throughout her life, Jack didn’t seem to feel awkward doing women’s work, as Eben had disdainfully called it.
She and Eben had never shared household chores. Eben considered cooking and cleaning and doing the dishes beneath him. Not manly. Yet Beth couldn’t imagine a man more masculine than Jack Stokes, and here he was, cheerfully helping her and not thinking a thing of it.
It was very pleasant working side by side. And just as Jack had promised, the work went a lot faster. Before she knew it, all the dishes had been dried and neatly stacked.
“Just show me where they go,” Jack said, “and I’ll put them away.”
“That’s okay. You’ve done enough.” Beth removed her apron and hung it on the hook at the side of the cupboard nearest the back door, where it joined several others.
“Well, I really do want to get back outside and finish up with the tree. Plus I’ll take a look at that compressor.”
“The compressor can wait until morning. It’s supposed to go down into the sixties tonight, so we’ll be comfortable. In fact, you can finish up with the tree tomorrow, too.”
“I only have about an hour’s worth of work left on that tree. I’d rather get it done tonight.”
“You know, as hard as you’re working, you’d think I was paying you top dollar.”
For a moment, his eyes met hers. Lordy, his eyes were sure blue. They reminded her of the color of the bluebonnets that covered the fields and roadsides in the spring.
“You are,” he answered quietly. “You’re giving me an opportunity to learn about growing roses.”
For the briefest moment, his statement caused a frisson of alarm to snake through her. Was that his angle? He wanted to learn
