CHAPTER FOUR
Sophie woke in her own bed. The previous night’s encounter seemed like a dream. Only the indentation on the pillow next to her told her that Luke had been there. From the heavenly cinnamon scent floating up the stairs and the banging in the kitchen, she knew he must still be there.
She crawled from the bed and gingerly tested her ankle. It throbbed when she tried standing on it, so she kept it in the air. After running a comb through her hair, she gimped her way to Jamison’s room and found the crib empty.
Luke sang “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” while Jamison beat on his high chair tray with a plastic spoon.
“What’s this?” Sophie asked.
Luke whirled around at the sound of her voice and Jamison gurgled and waved his spoon at her.
“This is breakfast,” Luke told her.
Sophie’s breakfast usually consisted of Raisin Bran and half a banana, so she was curious to see what breakfast meant to Luke.
He pulled a casserole dish out of the oven. “This is baked oatmeal.”
“You can bake oatmeal?” She smiled at his apron that looked like a giant red lobster.
He gave her a puzzled look. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had an oatmeal cookie.”
“Well, yes, but…”
“Is this a cookie? We’re having cookies for breakfast?”
“Sounds like a great idea, but I think you’ll like this better.” He waved the knife in his hand at a chair. “Sit. I had planned on bringing this to you, but since you’re here…sit. It’ll be just a moment.”
He turned his back to her and resumed chopping a green apple, a handful of nuts, and a few dried cranberries. Then he scooped out a portion of the oatmeal into a bowl, sprinkled it with the apple mixture, and gave it a splash of milk before setting it down in front of her. “Eat.”
“Are you going to eat, too?” She poised her spoon above the bowl.
“Of course,” he said, taking a chair beside her and removing his apron.
“You’ve changed your clothes.”
“I’m guessing they’re Matt’s,” he told her. “I found them in the closet in Jamie’s room.”
She ducked her head. “I haven’t gotten around to cleaning everything out.”
“Well, it worked out.”
She lifted a spoonful of the oatmeal concoction to her mouth. “Mmm, heaven,” she murmured.
Luke ladled up his own serving. “What do you have planned for today?”
“Santa is coming to story hour at the library,” she told him. “I was going to go with Liz, but now… It’s not much fun when your main mode of transportation is hobbling.”
“Well, why don’t you stay here and catch up on your reading while I take Jamie to story hour?”
“But…don’t you have things to do? What about your barn?”
“I’m waiting for the tile I ordered to arrive. Jamie and I can stop by the hardware store on our way to the library.”
#
The farmhouse seemed cold and lonely without Jamison and Luke, even though Luke had lit a fire in the fireplace before he left. Sophie snuggled into her chair and picked up her book. But she didn’t read. She was tired of living vicariously—reading about other people’s lives, other women’s romances. She tossed the book across the room, and decided she wanted a romance of her own.
Just then, Aidan’s truck turned down the driveway. Everything told her that Aidan was the perfect choice for her. He was smart, funny, and reliable.
