as if they were going to the circus.
“If she’ll let us,” Boone told his eight-year-old son. In his experience Cora Jane never asked for help and wasn’t real crazy about accepting it when offered. He’d learned to be incredibly sneaky about making sure she and the restaurant were looked after.
“Do you think she’ll make me pancakes like Mickey Mouse?” B.J. asked. “The little pancakes that make the ears are the best part.” A guilty expression passed over his face. “Hers are better than Jerry’s, but don’t tell him. I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”
Boone laughed, well aware of how competitive the cook and Cora Jane could be at times. “I doubt she’ll have the kitchen open,” Boone told him. “The storm water’s barely receded. You know what a mess things are over at our place. Castle’s didn’t look much better when I checked it out yesterday.”
He also knew that Cora Jane was the kind of woman who liked to feel in control of things. No hurricane would throw her off course for long. By tomorrow, she’d probably be cooking whatever she could on the gas grill even if she couldn’t get the oven up and running.
He gave his son a warning look. “Don’t be asking her for pancakes, okay? Not till we see what the situation is. We’re here to help, not to make more work for her.”
“But she always says making special pancakes for me isn’t work,” B.J. said earnestly. “She says she does it out of love.”
Boone chuckled. Of course she’d tell B.J. something like that. Hadn’t she always made him feel he was no trouble, too? Even when his own folks thought he was more of a nuisance than anything else. If it hadn’t been for Cora Jane and the jobs she’d given him to keep him busy and out of mischief, his life would have gone in a whole different direction. He owed her. He surely did. And he counted himself fortunate that she hadn’t pushed him out of her life when Emily had dumped him. Given the fierce family loyalty among the Castles, it could easily have happened.
If seeing her and listening to her brag about her three granddaughters, including the woman who’d been the love of his life, was painful, well, that was just the price he had to pay for having Cora Jane as the kind of compassionate, nonjudgmental moral compass he definitely needed.
As soon as Boone had parked beside the restaurant, B.J. was out of the car and running.
“Hold it!” Boone commanded, waiting until his son had skidded to a stop and faced him. He walked closer and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and pointed. “What have I told you about the need to be real careful right now? Just look around. There’s wood all over with nails in it and who knows what kind of glass on the ground. Take your time and pay attention.”
B.J. gave him an impish smile that reminded him so much of Jenny, it made his heart ache. Jenny had been the sweetest woman on the planet, and losing her to an out-of-control infection that had proven resistant to antibiotics had been devastating to him and to B.J.
With the resilience of childhood, B.J. was bouncing back, but Boone wasn’t sure he’d ever get past his grief. He knew some of that was colored by guilt because he’d never loved Jenny half as much as she’d loved him. How could he when a part of his heart still belonged to Emily Castle? No matter his feelings, though, he thought he’d done the best he could by his wife. Jenny had never wanted for anything. He’d been a good husband, a devoted father. Late at night, though, he couldn’t help wondering if it had been enough. It didn’t help that Jenny’s parents blamed him for everything from ruining Jenny’s life to contributing to her death. He just knew they were looking for any excuse to try to take B.J. from him. That, he thought fiercely, would happen over his own dead body!
As for the rest, well, it was water under the bridge now, he told himself, as he took a deep breath and followed his son. Alerted by Cora Jane that all three of her granddaughters were coming home to help with the storm cleanup, he braced himself for the first glimpse of Emily after all these years.
Inside the water-ravaged restaurant, though, he spotted only Gabriella, looking frantic as Cora Jane teetered on the top rung of a stepladder. Gabi was holding it steady with a white-knuckled grip.
“Cora Jane Castle, what do you think you’re doing?” Boone demanded, wrapping an arm around her hips and lifting her down until her sneaker-clad feet were firmly on the ground.
She whirled around and glared at him. “What do you think you’re doing, Boone Dorsett?” she inquired, her brown eyes flashing with indignation, even as he gave the obviously relieved Gabi a wink.
“Saving you from a broken hip, most likely,” he said. “Didn’t I tell you a long time ago that I’d take care of fixing all the lights whenever they needed it or to have Jerry or your handyman do it?”
“Well, Jerry’s not here yet and my handyman’s nowhere to be found,” she retorted. “And since when do I need you to screw in a few lightbulbs?” Hands on her hips, she tried her best to stare him down. Given their relative size difference, she wasn’t half as intimidating as she obviously hoped to be.
“You could at least have let Gabi do it,” he replied.
She seemed to fight a smile at the suggestion, avoiding her granddaughter’s gaze. “Bless her heart,” she confided in an undertone, “Gabi is scared of heights. She got two rungs up the ladder, and I thought she was about to faint.”
“It’s true,” Gabi replied, an embarrassed flush in her cheeks. “It was humiliating, especially when she went scampering right on up the ladder.”
Thankfully, just then B.J. tugged on Cora Jane’s hand. “Ms. Cora Jane, the power’s back on, right?”
She smiled and ruffled his hair affectionately. “Came on about a half hour ago, as a matter of fact.” She gave him a knowing look. “I imagine you asked because you’re hoping for pancakes.”
B.J.’s eyes lit up. “Uh-huh, but Daddy said not to ask because we’re here to help.”
Cora Jane rolled her eyes. “Well, since your daddy seems intent on taking over the most dangerous chores himself, I imagine I can try to rustle up some pancakes for my favorite customer. You gonna help?”
“Sure. I’ll mix the batter like you showed me last time,” B.J. offered, trailing after her.
Boone watched them go, shaking his head. “I don’t know which of them’s going to give me my first heart attack, but odds on, it’s your grandmother.”
Gabi laughed. “She has that effect on all of us.”
“She told me you and your sisters were all coming home to help put this place back in working order,” he said, hoping he sounded casual, rather than panicked, which was the way just thinking about Emily made him feel.
Gabi gave him a knowing look. “Samantha just called. Emily’s flight landed about an hour ago. They stopped to pick up some things for Emily to wear. Apparently Em was in Aspen when I called her, and the clothes she had with her weren’t suitable for mopping.”
“Aspen, huh?” Boone said. “She gets around these days, doesn’t she?”
Gabi nodded. “Her reputation as an interior designer took off after the remodel she did for some actress was featured in a magazine. Now she’s working on all sorts of celebrity homes in Beverly Hills and Malibu. Last year she renovated somebody’s villa in Italy,
