Silver Thaw: A Mystic Creek Novel

by Catherine Anderson

  When man and girl entered the kitchen, Amanda had a platter of warm bread, plates, and a saucer of butter on the table. She was filling bowls with stew when Jeb nearly startled her out of her shoes with, “Holy smokes, homemade bread? Oh, man! That smells so good I could almost swallow my tongue. My machine-made stuff isn’t the same.”

  “Mommy’s bread is the best!” Chloe exclaimed.

  Amanda heard chairs scrape as they seated themselves. Then Jeb said, “Let’s pretend this is our appetizer. We can say the blessing before we eat our stew.”

  “I like the heel,” Chloe said.

  “No,” Jeb said with an exaggerated note of complaint, “I have dibs on all the heels.”

  Amanda suspected that Jeb hoped for some verbal sparring from Chloe, but cowed as she’d been for most of her life, she quietly said, “Okay, you can have them.”

  Jeb chuckled. “I was teasing, Chloe. We’ll share the heels.” Silence. “Amanda, are you a heel lover, too? Chloe and I can divide them up into thirds.”

  Amanda found herself smiling. Glancing over her shoulder, she said, “I prefer a center slice slathered with butter.”

  “You’ve got it.” Jeb pulled a center slice from the platter and put it on Amanda’s bread plate. “The smell of that stew has my mouth watering. Ladle it up faster.”

  Amanda almost switched gears to super speed, but then she realized Jeb hadn’t issued an order. He was teasing again. She released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her muscles began to relax.

  After she had set bowls of stew on the table, she took a chair across from Jeb, with Chloe sitting to her right.

  “Chloe,” Jeb said softly, “would you like to say the blessing today?”

  Chloe shot him a startled look. “I don’t know how. Daddy never let us pray.”

  Jeb switched his gaze from Chloe to Amanda. “Are you against praying over food?”

  Amanda said, “Heavens, no. I grew up in a household that prayed before every meal, only we held hands and my dad always did the honors.”

  “Well,” Jeb replied, “in my family we take turns.” He extended his hand across the table to Amanda, and then each of them grasped one of Chloe’s. Feeling the warmth and strength of Jeb’s long, thick fingers around hers sent a shiver up Amanda’s spine. Jeb said, “You can say the blessing, Chloe. It doesn’t have to be a memorized prayer. You can just tell Jesus that our lunch looks good, and that we’re thankful for the gifts.”

  Chloe stammered at first, but she finally got the words out, finishing with, “I’m so hungry my stomach is growling!”

  Jeb laughed and said, “Amen.”

  Amanda realized that she’d forgotten napkins and excused herself to fetch sections from the roll of paper towels.

  “Don’t bother folding them,” Jeb told her. “We’ll only unfold them again.”

  Amanda handed each of them a towel and kept one for herself. Her stomach knotted again as she watched Jeb take a huge bite of fresh bread. He murmured his pleasure as he chewed. One down. Now, if only he liked the stew.

  After spooning some into his mouth, he said, “Fabulous. This is even better than Mom’s. Don’t tell her I said that. She’d never get over it.”

  Amanda bent her head to hide a smile of sheer relief. As she tucked into her meal, she enjoyed the wondrous experience of dining with a man without feeling as if her stomach were tied in knots. Jeb excused himself and got up to serve himself a second helping. To Amanda’s surprise, Chloe said, “’Scuse me,” grabbed her own empty bowl, and raced after him. “May I have more, too?”

  “Absolutely,” Jeb assured the child. “One ladle or two?”

  The child’s smile wavered. “One. I get in bad trouble if I don’t eat all my food.”

  “Hmm. Well, you won’t get in bad trouble around here,” Jeb told her. “So you get two ladles, and if you can’t eat all of it, we’ll pick out the chunks of meat and vegetables as treats for Bozo. The rest can go in the laundry room slop bucket.”

  “How come Bozo can’t eat all of it?”

  “Because onions and garlic make dogs sick. He can eat all the rest, though. My pig, Babe, will devour what’s left.”

  When they got back to the table and resumed eating, Amanda couldn’t resist saying, “I had dogs growing up, and we fed them cooked onions and garlic all the time.”

  Jeb shrugged. “Everyone in my family used to, too. But in recent years, they’ve discovered that onions and garlic, along with chocolate, grapes, and raisins, are very toxic to canines.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Maybe cooked onions and garlic aren’t as harmful as raw. I’ve never researched it online.”

  “What do onions and garlic do to them?” Amanda asked.

  “It stops them from producing red blood cells, or something like that. It’s been a while since I read about it, so I can’t recall the particulars.”

  Amanda picked a piece of tender beef from her bowl, cleaned the sauce away with her spoon, and fed it to the eager mastiff, who sat with his dripping jowls nearly touching her elbow. Since she’d tossed him bits of raw vegetables while she cooked, she’d apparently become his go-to person for the day’s treats.

  After giving the dog a bite, she shot Jeb a questioning look. “I hope it’s all right to feed him at the table. I should have asked first.”

  Jeb grinned. “He’s tall enough to rest his chin on the table, with a long enough tongue to wash all the dishes for me before I can get them to the sink. So I don’t allow him to touch the table, but I do toss him treats. You can give him more if you like.” He studied the dog, frowning slightly, and Amanda could have sworn she heard him whisper, “Traitor.”

  Lunch was so enjoyable that Amanda hated for it to end. When Jeb returned to the entry to pull on his storm gear, she followed. He was bent at the waist to put on his chained boots when she said, “Thank you for not getting angry about the bathroom. If the cleaner damaged the wood finishes, I’ll repair them.”

  He glanced up. “I finish wood for a living. I doubt the cleaner hurt it any, but if it did, I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry about it. Okay?” He straightened. As he drew on his coat, he added, “I’m not given to frequent outbursts of temper, Amanda. That isn’t to say that I don’t get angry. I do. But it takes a lot to rile me.”

  Gesturing toward the bathroom, Amanda said, “That was a lot.”

  He flashed his sunny grin, warm enough to make a crocus bloom in the dead of winter. “That was an accident. Chloe just hoped to save time by letting the bubbles do the work. I like the way she’s thinking. I bought the damned stuff for the very same reason.” He winked. “I’m just old enough to read the fine print.”

  “For a man with no children, you’re very understanding.”

  “I was a kid once. When you meet my dad, ask him about the time my brother and I decided we wanted a yellow lab instead of a black one and spray-painted the dog.”

  Amanda couldn’t stifle a giggle. “You didn’t!”

  “Oh, yeah, and it wasn’t water-soluble paint. My dad had to call the vet to see what he could use to get it off. The vet said the usual solvents would burn the dog’s skin. They discussed shaving him, but it was the middle of summer, and the dog spent a lot of time outside with my father. The vet said the risk of a sunburn was more dangerous than any toxins in the dried paint. So Blackie went around wearing yellow patches for a while. Labs shed a lot, and Blackie’s fur, held together by the paint, hung off him like leaves about to fall from a tree limb.”

  Amanda laughed again.

  “And every time a chunk finally fell off, my dad made us pick it up and reminded us that we’d better never paint the dog again.”

  “You didn’t get a spanking?”

  Jeb shook his head. “My dad would give us a knuckle rub on our heads sometimes, but he didn’t believe in spanking.” He glanced at his watch. “I gotta
go. There are a lot of old people on Elderberry.”

  Amanda hugged her waist. “I know. We moved there in August, and Chloe hoped to find kids to play with on our road. Instead she sat on the porch and watched ants crawl for the remainder of the summer.” She swallowed hard. She hated to ask him for a favor. “Um—will you be going near the end of Elderberry today?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “I forgot a little SD card in my top bureau drawer. It’s extremely important to me.”

  “No worry. I’ll grab it for you.” Turning toward the door, Jeb nearly tripped over the bag of clothing that Myrna had sent over. He handed it to Amanda. “I hope some of this stuff will come in handy.” He paused to glance back at her before exiting. “By any chance do you like chocolate chip cookies?”

  Startled by the question, Amanda took a moment to reply. “They’re my favorite.”

  He winked. “No special order, but it sure would be nice to come back home to some.”

  “How do you like them, crisp or chewy?” she asked.

  “Chewy, but then, I’ve never met a chocolate chip cookie I didn’t like, so either will make me happy.”

  After the door closed behind him, Amanda carried the bag into the family room adjoining the kitchen. “Maybe you can see what Mrs. Bradley sent over to us while I do dishes,” she told her daughter.

  Chloe was soon squealing with delight, which drew Amanda back to her.

  “Look, Mommy,” she cried. “I got a brand-new pink jacket with white fur and snow pants to match.” She peered into the bag again. “And new pink boots!” Her face fell. “What if nothing fits?”

  “Everything should,” Amanda assured her. “I gave Mrs. Bradley our sizes.”

  Amanda picked up the pink parka. It looked and smelled brand-new—too new for a garment left inside a coat closet since last winter. Suspicious, she sat down on the brown love seat and started riffling through the bag with her daughter. Gloves, mufflers, a woman’s down-filled blue parka with a fur-lined hood. Women’s snow boots and ski pants. And most suspicious of all, a sturdy pair of low-rise winter shoes, made more like boots. An expert on secondhand clothing, Amanda searched the innersoles for an impression of someone else’s foot. These things weren’t secondhand. She sniffed the shoe, and all she smelled was fresh-from-the-box newness.

  Amanda couldn’t resist trying on the blue parka. Oh, how delicious it felt, the down instantly holding in her body heat. How many times, as she’d walked to work, had she yearned for a better jacket? This one reached to below her hips and had a drawstring waist. And there were pants, gloves, a muffler, a stocking cap, and boots to match! Not a single item showed any wear.

  She sank back down on the love seat. Jeb Sterling could be very sneaky when he chose to be. He’d known that Amanda wouldn’t accept these things as gifts. She almost told Chloe they couldn’t wear them, but when she looked at the child, she couldn’t force the words out. Chloe had donned her snow pants and pink boots—expensive ones this time, that would never leak—and she pranced around like Cinderella trying out her pretty glass slippers.

  Suddenly Chloe froze and peered at her mother. “Mom- my, are you sure these things came from Mrs. Myrna? They don’t smell like thrift-store stuff.”

  Amanda’s throat tightened. Now or never. She needed to tell the child that these were gifts from Mr. Jeb that they couldn’t keep. Only—oh, how the thought of doing that sliced at her heart. She’d prayed for good snow boots for Chloe. She’d even asked for a warm jacket for herself. Now her prayers had been answered. Wouldn’t it be wrong, somehow, to refuse these things simply because they’d come from a man to whom she didn’t wish to be indebted?

  “I think Mr. Jeb played a trick on us,” Amanda settled for saying. “He saw that we needed warmer clothing, but he knew I wouldn’t allow him to buy any for us.”

  Chloe hung her head. “That means we can’t keep it, doesn’t it?”

  Amanda took a deep breath and released it. “No. I prayed for us to have all these things. God does answer prayers, Chloe. We needed them very badly. I think what we must do is graciously accept the presents and tell Mr. Jeb thank you.”

  Chloe’s eyes sparkled when she lifted her chin. “He’s nice. Isn’t he, Mommy? Not mean like my daddy.”

  Amanda’s guard went up. “We haven’t known Mr. Jeb long enough to be certain that he’s nice, sweetie. But I must agree that he seems to be.”

  Chloe shook her head, sending her dark hair in a silky flow over her shoulders. “I know he’s nice.”

  Amanda didn’t want her child to be hurt by putting her trust in a man who didn’t deserve it. “Sweetie, you can’t possibly know that for sure, not yet.”

  “Yes, I can. Bozo told me.”

  “Bozo?” Amanda recalled how the mastiff had told her about his boots.

  Chloe nodded. “It was in dog talk, Mommy, but he said it loud and clear. Mr. Jeb is nice. He never hits dogs or little girls. He doesn’t do that to mommies, either. And he don’t kick dogs or people in the tummy.”

  “Doesn’t,” Amanda corrected, feeling as if she’d just stepped into water way over her head. She knew that Chloe and Bozo had formed a friendship, and she didn’t wish to make light of that. Besides, Amanda couldn’t deny that the dog seemed to adore Jeb; he never cowered from him, and even had quality doggy boots to put on his feet before he went outside. All the signs confirmed that Jeb was a kind and caring man. “Maybe Bozo has it right,” she conceded. “But let’s be cautious before we trust Mr. Jeb too much. Okay?”

  Chloe nodded. “He didn’t get mad about the working bubbles.”

  “No, he didn’t.” The declaration reminded Amanda that she still hadn’t done the dishes, had lots of work waiting in the bathroom, and then would need to start supper. She pushed herself up from the love seat and shrugged out of the parka. “Don’t leave any of your new things lying on the floor. Fold them neatly and put them back in the bag. We’ll decide where to put them later.”

  “Why not in the closet where Mr. Jeb puts some of his stuff?”

  Amanda, moving toward the kitchen, paused in midstride. “Because that is Mr. Jeb’s closet. We are only his guests. The moment this ice melts, we have to go home.”

  “Our house is icky and has leaks.”

  Amanda still hadn’t gotten a call from her landlord, so she wasn’t sure what to say. “Broken pipes can be fixed. Don’t start thinking that this will last; it’s only temporary.”

  “I sure do like it here. I wish we could stay.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetness. That can’t happen.”

  “Why not?” Chloe frowned; then her expression brightened. “I know! We can go to town, and you can meet Mr. Jeb on the natural bridge! Then you’ll fall in love, and we can stay here for always!”

  “I don’t think Mr. Jeb is interested in meeting me on the bridge and falling in love.”

  Chloe put her hands on her hips. “I see how he looks at you when you aren’t watching him.”

  Amanda froze in midstride again. “What do you mean? How does he look at me?”

  Chloe pursed her lips. “I don’t know. Sort of like you’re chocolate ice cream and he doesn’t have a spoon.”

  Amanda’s stomach knotted. She finally collected her composure, ignored the comment, and went to work. A few minutes later, as she polished the granite countertops and the stainless-steel appliance fronts, she decided this was the most beautiful kitchen she’d ever seen. Auxiliary power hadn’t been run to a few of the less crucial appliances, but necessary things ran fine. No need for flashlights, blankets, bottled water, or anything else. Amanda recognized perfect when she saw it.

  The bathroom required less time to clean than Amanda had anticipated, so she took a break with Chloe at the kitchen table, drawing pictures on the paper she’d found in Jeb’s office trash. What an office. It had built-in cabinets and bookshelves. She�
��d felt sad as she studied the two desks with cubbyholes and cupboards above them and file cabinet drawers on either side. Jeb truly had built this home for a family and had even thought to make sure his future wife would have her own workstation.

  Chloe didn’t mind the typing on the reverse side of her drawing paper, and Amanda felt guilt-free about using the sheets because Jeb had already thrown them away. Amanda created pictures of the ice-encrusted world outside, failing to duplicate its magical beauty. Chloe drew pictures of Bozo, some of them so true to life that Amanda wondered if her daughter might become a skilled artist.

  After baking chocolate chip cookies, Amanda decided to make steak Diane sans the tableside fire show for dinner. Flambéed dishes were fun, but considering the way her luck ran with men, she’d probably set Jeb’s hair aflame. Chloe insisted on helping, so Amanda tied a dish towel around her neck to serve as an apron, stood her on a chair, and assigned her the task of washing the red potatoes, a head of broccoli, and some green beans. Bozo, who had attached himself to Chloe with invisible strings, became their cleanup helper, devouring every tidbit that hit the floor. Amanda had adored her dogs as a kid, and she found herself falling in love with Bozo, too. He was a gentle giant. She made sure to put his snow boots on often to go outside, only now she wore her new parka as she waited on the porch, and she barely felt the cold.

  Gazing out over the frosty landscape, she hoped that she and Chloe could go home tomorrow, but a thaw didn’t appear to be imminent. They might be stuck here for far longer than she’d planned. At least it was a pleasant place to pass the time. She needed to be grateful for that, and for the duration of their stay, she would cook and clean for Jeb, the only ways she knew to repay his kindness.

  * * *

  Jeb had put in a lot of long days, but today beat them all. He drove from house to house, helping elderly people and getting a break only when he sat behind the steering wheel. As he skated to and from his truck, he began to think evening would never come.