A Marriage Made In Joeville. Anne Eames

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A Marriage Made In Joeville - Anne  Eames

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years, she’d hoped this part of Ryder’s life had changed.

      Finally, Ryder glanced over his shoulder at her, his jaw muscles knotting. Then without a word, he looked away and started for the front door. Savannah stared after him, swallowing the lump at the back of her throat. This wasn’t what she’d hoped to find. Not even close.

      “Coming, Essie?” Max held out his arm and waited for her to pass.

      As far as she was concerned, she should crawl into her car and head back to Michigan. She’d seen enough to know Ryder wasn’t a man ready for any relationship. The chip she’d remembered in high school had only grown larger with time. But Max was standing there, smiling and waiting patiently for her to join them. She hadn’t eaten much last night and hadn’t had time this morning. Okay, she decided. One good breakfast and she was out of here.

      Then she could forget about cooking.

      Forget about Montana.

      And once and for all forget about Ryder Malone.

      She smiled at Max and preceded him into the house, with each heavy step trying to muster up some anger to replace the pain of her bitter disappointment.

      Max seated Essie at the side of the long table, before taking his place next to her at the head, looking every inch the patriarch of the family. More uncomfortable than ever, her gaze flitted from the gaping men to the mounds of food on the table. Her chin dropped as she took in the spread—eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, pancakes, some mush that looked like oatmeal, muffins and fresh-squeezed orange juice. If she had any doubts before, looking at the amount of food on the table confirmed her decision to get out of Dodge while she could. This was a disaster waiting to happen. She’d never cooked this much food in a month, let alone at one time. She tugged at the back of her tank top, which hiked the front a little higher, fully aware that while she was staring at the food, the men were looking elsewhere.

      “Essie, I’d like you to meet my other two sons.” Max gestured to the far end of the table. “There on the end is Shane. He’s the oldest. And next to him is Joshua, the youngest.”

      Joshua was first to perk up. “It’s nice meeting you, Essie.” He rose from his chair and moved to the side table. Holding up the urn, he asked, “Would you like some coffee?”

      “Yes, thank you.” Well, at least one of them had manners.

      Joshua poured while Shane studied her silently. She took a sip of coffee and looked at the oldest brother again. He was still blatantly staring at her and didn’t blink an eye when she caught him. It was as though he had thirty seconds to size her up and he wasn’t going to miss his deadline.

      Ryder had gone to wash up and change clothes, he’d said, which added to her suspicion that he had probably just arrived home from the night before. It could have been with the guys, she told herself when he returned, his dark brown hair even darker around the wet edges, the ends skimming the collar of his fresh, blue chambray shirt. She eyed the empty chair across from her, hoping he’d sit there instead of in the one next to her.

      No such luck.

      When he sat next to her, she decided it was easier to avoid him this way, which she did. With words, anyway. Unfortunately, her pulse had a mind of its own. He had grown taller since school and seemed more solid, less lanky. She didn’t have to look at him to feel his nearness. She was certain the slightest movement of her leg would make contact with his. Max passed her a platter of sausage, and she forked a couple of links, forcing her attention back to food.

      “If that’s not hot enough, I’ll have Hannah warm it for you.”

      Hannah? There was already a cook in the kitchen? Working as a kitchen helper didn’t sound nearly as intimidating. But what did it matter? She wasn’t staying, anyway. She tested the sausage. “This is fine. Thanks.”

      Without invitation, Ryder tossed a piece of toast on her plate. She eyed his long fingers as they busied themselves at his own plate. Slow, sure movements. She managed to empty her mouth without choking and drank more coffee.

      “Whatsa matter? Ya don’t like my toast?” Essie jumped, not having noticed the older, portly woman who had entered the room behind her.

      “N-no. I mean...I was just waiting for someone to pass me the jelly,” she lied.

      “Jelly!” Hannah shouted. “That’s not jelly! It took me hours to put up strawberries. Them’s preserves, young lady. Not jelly.”

      “Oh, for crying out loud, Hannah. You sound like that silly commercial.” Max glowered at her, sending her a clear message to behave herself. “Hannah, this is Essie Smith.” Hannah walked closer and scowled at the applicant, her formidable frame sending off waves of instant disapproval.

      Essie pushed out her chair and stood, tugging at her skirt before extending her hand. “Nice to meet you, Hannah.” Her hand hung out there, untouched, as Hannah’s fists stayed put on her barrel hips. Essie just smiled and waited. Things hadn’t gone exactly as she’d planned so far, but she would win this one if it took all day. Finally she saw Hannah’s squinted eyelids flicker. Then, grudgingly, a chafed, stubby hand grasped hers and gave it one hearty shake. Essie exhaled the breath she’d been holding.

      “Can I help you clear the table?”

      Hannah shrugged. “If ya want.” The woman waddled back through the kitchen door, muttering under her breath.

      “Don’t mind Hannah,” Max said. “Her bark’s worse than her bite.”

      Hope to God I never find out, Essie thought, shaking off the mental image of a set of dentures embedded in her backside. She started stacking empty plates one atop another.

      “Don’t you want to eat more? The dishes can wait.”

      She looked back at Max’s warm smile. He seemed like such a kind man. Still, where had be been when Ryder needed him in high school?

      “That’s okay. I guess I’m not very hungry this morning.” The truth was Jenny’s clothes left little room to breathe, let alone eat. Now she knew why her friend had insisted on separate boxes for her loaners. Jenny knew Essie would never wear them unless she had no choice. As she piled on another dirty plate, she wondered when the little vixen had made the box switch.

      Remembering where she was, she glanced around the table and caught Shane’s steady gaze. Was he trying to read her mind, or what?

      This one would be hard to fool.

      Her breath hitched at the back of her throat as she realized what this last thought meant. She wasn’t leaving after all. She piled on more dishes and exhaled. She’d come this far, why not give it a whirl? If for no other reason than to satisfy her curiosity. Who were these men she’d heard so much about? And Ryder! To think she’d held up this man as the standard for all others! How could she have been so wrong about him?

      She made her way around the table and avoided Ryder’s face...as if he remembered she was even there. Except for the casual toast toss, he’d all but ignored her. She looked at Joshua, instead, who was spreading jelly...uh, preserves... and giving her a sympathetic smile. She gave him a small smile back, till suddenly she felt the muscles in her arms quiver from her load. Before she could make a fool of herself and drop the whole pile, she pushed open the kitchen door with her back and deposited the dishes next to the sink. Hannah went about her business,

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