the mashed potatoes over there, dearie,” Mrs. Carver said to Emmy. “Right next to my chair.” She laughed and the others laughed along, which made Ben suspect he’d missed out on a joke.
Zeb looked at Ben from where he was placing forks at the table and grinned. “Mrs. Carver says that potatoes help her keep her girlish finger.”
Emmy and Mrs. Carver laughed, and Ben couldn’t help but chuckle with them.
“Figure.” Mrs. Carver enunciated the word with a nod. “And that, they do.” She stood at the cast-iron stove, whisking up chicken gravy, and tilted her head toward Emmy. “We best put some by Miss Emmy’s place, too.”
Emmy’s cheeks turned pink as she glanced up at Ben while setting a platter of sliced bread on the table.
“It looks like we’re in for another feast.” Ben walked over to the stove and inhaled the scent of roasted chicken. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“You can have a seat,” Mrs. Carver said. “I’ll pour this gravy into a bowl and we’re ready to eat.”
“You did a wonderful job setting the table, boys,” Emmy said to Zeb and Levi as she held out a chair for each boy to take a seat.
The boys glowed under her approval, and for the first time since arriving at Ben’s, they looked comfortable to be there.
Mrs. Carver shuffled over to the table with the gravy and set it next to the potatoes. She stood for a moment, surveying the spread. “I feel like we’re missing something.”
“You!” Zeb said with a laugh.
“I think that’s it.” Mrs. Carver chuckled and took her seat closest to the stove.
Ben sat at the head of the table with the boys to his right. Emmy stood for a moment, as if she didn’t know whether to sit in the empty seat near Ben, or take the seat at the foot of the table.
“Why don’t you sit right here,” Mrs. Carver said, patting the spot next to Ben.
Emmy walked around the table and took the seat Mrs. Carver suggested.
“Shall we say grace?” Ben asked.
Mrs. Carver reached across the table and took Levi’s hand, and then offered her other one to Emmy, who sat to her right.
Emmy glanced up at Ben and their gazes met for a heartbeat before she slipped her hand inside his.
For a moment, Ben marveled at how soft and warm her skin felt, but then he reached for Zeb’s sticky hand to his right and bowed his head, trying to concentrate on his prayer.
“For this meal and our lives, Lord, we are eternally grateful. Amen.”
“And for Mrs. Carver’s potatoes. Amen,” Zeb added quickly.
Laughter filled the room again and Emmy gave Ben’s hand a gentle squeeze before she let go, turning her attention to Mrs. Carver’s savory food.
“It feels good to be cooking for a full house again.” Mrs. Carver placed a drumstick on each of the boys’ plates. “After my children grew up and moved away, and my husband, Stan, died, it was just me. I love to cook, but there was no one to eat my food, but me.” She smiled at the four of them. “Now look. Here I am, doing what I love most. I say this is a gift from God.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Ben said. “A gift for all of us.”
“I’m also counting my blessings.” Emmy took a piece of chicken and placed it on her plate before handing the platter to Ben. “Living here will be so much nicer than the boardinghouse.” She smiled at the boys. “And I get extra time with two of my favorite students.”
Levi’s cheeks turned pink and Zeb dipped his head in embarrassment, clearly pleased by her words.
“I put the desk in your room and brought up all your trunks,” Ben told her. “As soon as we’re done eating, feel free to get to work.”
Emmy looked around the table, sadness marring her features. “I would hate to miss out on all the fun we have planned.”
“Fun?” Ben asked.
“We’re going to make popcorn and hot chocolate with Mrs. Carver after supper,” Levi said to Ben. “And Miss Wilkes said she would teach us a parlor game if we’re good and help clear the table.”
“It sounds like you have quite the evening planned.” Ben took a bite of the fluffy potatoes, surprised by how creamy and smooth they were. “I can understand now why you love these potatoes so much, Mrs. Carver. I’ve never tasted anything like them.”
Mrs. Carver grinned and Levi spoke up. “Her secret ingredient is love.”
“Levi!” Zeb made a face at his brother. “That was supposed to be a secret!”
Ben tried to hide his laugh. “Love was the first ingredient I tasted, so the secret was out before Levi told me.”
Levi looked relieved and the adults shared a smile.
“Do any of you play instruments?” Mrs. Carver asked the group.
“I play piano,” Emmy offered.
“And I have a mouth organ, though I’m not very good.” Ben took a bite of the tender chicken trying to concentrate on the conversation as his taste buds demanded attention.
“Maybe we can have us a little music this evening,” Mrs. Carver said, tucking a napkin into her lap. “My Stan used to play the fiddle after supper and it was my favorite time of the day.”
Emmy’s soft gaze turned to Ben. “Would you play for us?”
“I suppose I could try—though I warn you, it’s been a while since I played.”
Mrs. Carver clapped and Emmy smiled. The boys cheered, though Ben suspected that they did it because the ladies seemed pleased, not because they were particularly excited to hear Ben play. But he didn’t blame them for their joy. It felt good to bring a smile to Emmy’s face and a fond memory to Mrs. Carver’s mind.
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