“I’ll be there with bells on.” He winked.
“Skip the bells, Dad. Just be there.”
He nodded somberly. “You have my word.”
She grinned then took his empty coffee mug and went inside. Now Leroy knew that, as a man of his word, he’d have to join the females for their fancy French breakfast and try to act like a gentleman—but he could eat fast.
Chapter 17
Even though the guest cottage was sweet and charming, a closer look revealed that it hadn’t been thoroughly cleaned for some time. And so Brynna decided to spend her Sunday giving it a good deep clean, starting with the windows, which held years of grime and dust. She found cleaning products and rags beneath the small farmhouse sink, then rolled up her sleeves and went to work. Something about making the thick old panes sparkle and gleam made Brynna happy. As if she could see clearer now too. And, like Snow White in the old movie that she’d watched on a VHS tape as a child, she even started to whistle while she worked.
Her spirits continued to rise as she scrubbed the bedroom window. Because this room was in the rear of the cottage, it had a direct view of the main house. With the lace curtains pushed away, Brynna could clearly see a small gathering on the house’s oversized back terrace. Four females appeared to be setting up a rather fancy breakfast with a colorful tablecloth and a big bouquet of fresh flowers. It all looked festive and fun. As she scrubbed the window, Brynna studied the group, curious as to who they might be. The blond woman with short, stylish hair seemed older, but the other girls were younger. Perhaps they were Sophie’s sisters or friends. But Sophie didn’t appear to be with them. Although the windowwas closed and she couldn’t hear them, they all seemed to be having a good time. Off to one side of the patio was what looked like a nice outdoor kitchen, but they didn’t seem to be using it. Still, it was a nice setup and Brynna imagined it would be fun to use to fix a meal outside.
The partiers’ attention turned to the oversized sliding glass door just as a man emerged onto the terrace. Brynna came to attention too. Dropping her cleaning rag, as well as her jaw, she openly stared for a long moment. Then, feeling self-conscious, although no one was looking her way, she pulled the curtains back over the window. But, like a child with her nose pressed to the toy store window, she continued to gape through the lacy holes in the curtain, spying on the social gathering, watching as the group grew even merrier.
The four women, smiling and laughing with fresh animation, clustered around the man as he removed a straw cowboy hat and ran his hand through his wavy hair. It was medium brown and a bit longish, but it was his face that knocked the air out of Brynna. She would’ve recognized him anywhere! An older version of the exact same Leroy she’d met thirty years ago. Leroy wore faded jeans, brown boots, and a pale-blue Western shirt with sleeves rolled up to reveal tanned forearms. And his smile was just as handsome as ever! Unless she was mistaken, he’d gotten even better looking.
With her heart pounding, Brynna watched as Leroy greeted the women and even exchanged some hugs. Then the blond woman took him by the arm, leading him to the head of the table. The other girls sat around him, almost as if he were holding court. The blond woman began to serve food and one of the girls poured his orange juice. The scene was like something out of an old movie. Everyone jovial and lighthearted, enjoying a picture-perfect breakfast on a lovely summer morning. But nothing about this picture felt pleasant to Brynna. In fact, it made her feel so sick that she was glad she hadn’t eaten breakfast.
What am I doing here?
With trembling hands, she smoothed the curtains, hoping thatno one had noticed their snooping neighbor. As she stepped away, trying to catch her breath and slow down her racing heartbeat, she asked herself again—whatwasshe doing here? And how could she possibly make a graceful exit? Call a taxi? Hitch a ride with visitors from the tasting room? Sneak out on foot in the middle of the night? Pray for vanishing powers?
Still feeling unsteady, she went into the tiny bathroom and ran cold water into the little sink, splashing it on her face. She needed to snap out of this. To get ahold of herself and stop acting like a silly adolescent. And then she needed to make a plan.
“It’s no big deal,” she told herself. Why shouldn’t Leroy entertain women in his backyard? Or even in his home? And even if that blond womanwashis girlfriend, what did it have to do with Brynna? For all she knew, the blond was his fiancée. And why not? Leroy was probably still a very nice guy—and would probably make a great husband. He was a good catch and fair game. And it was none of her business! As she towel-dried her face, Brynna wondered why he hadn’t been remarried by now. Women must’ve lined up at his door. But really, what was it to her?
Trying to calm herself, she gazed around the bathroom. Like the bedroom, it had delicate white lace curtains that also looked toward the family home—not that she planned to look! She inhaled a slow, deep breath, taking in her surroundings. Clean and serene. Several small original seascapes graced the pale blue walls. Above the petite claw-foot tub hung a metal rack filled with fluffy towels and some lavender bath salts in a glass mason jar. If she wasn’t so intent on escaping, a soothing soak would be tempting.
Just like the rest of the cottage, this tiny bathroom was perfection. One more treasure left behind by Leroy’s deceased wife. Brynna wished she knew this woman’s name. She must’ve been a very happy woman and a wonderful wife ... but her life had been cut short. For the second time this morning, Brynna cried. And this time, it was partly for herself. But even more than that, it was for Leroy ... and for the loss of his wife.
Somehow she felt she understood why, after all these years, he had never remarried. It just seemed to make sense. No one could measure up to his dearly departed wife, the mother of his three girls. And although that was discouraging to her on one level, it was deeply satisfying on another.
Leroy truly was a good man—loyal to his sweet wife, both in life and in death. This image of him made Brynna feel stronger. She no longer wanted to run and hide. What did it matter? Even if Leroy didn’t hate her, he would not be interested. In fact, he would probably be completely neutral. And that, strangely, felt like a relief.
Besides, she reminded herself, she’d made a commitment to Sophie. She owed it to her to be of some help. Hopefully, she could lighten her load. Even if only for a few days. And she would refuse to accept a penny of pay. Just staying in the cottage and being here was worth free labor. And it was satisfying to know she would leave the guest cottage in better shape than she found it. Because she knew her time here would soon end. Once Leroy figured things out, it would be time to go. And fine, she would be ready.
In the meantime, she would just enjoy this sweet little respite in the guest cottage—and tomorrow, she would work super hard. Even Jan and Mike wouldn’t be able to fault her for not giving her best try. Not that she planned to call and interrupt their time in Yosemite. No, as she hung the towel back on its bar, she decided she would simply arrange to get home another way. End of story.
By coming to this realization and making this decision, she felt free inside. Whatever would be would be. She would do her best to help Sophie. The rest was out of her hands. Whether it was kismet or God, it would all work out ... in time.
Leroy didn’t have to put himself out to participate in the conversation around the breakfast table. Judith, her daughters, and Gina filled in so much of the space, there was barely room to inserta word or two. And that was fine with him. In fact, accustomed to being the only male in a houseful of women, he was used to it. Plus, it allowed him to eat quickly, without being rude.
And, although the picture-perfect meal Judith had fixed was palatable enough, it wasn’t his favorite sort of fare. He’d never been into fancy food. It had taken awhile to make Marcie understand he was a meat and pasta man. Eventually she’d accepted this fact and had even collected some of his family’s recipes, including the meat and mushroom marinara sauce that she’d made her own.
“Would you like some more?” Judith extended the platter of cheese blintzes toward him with a wide smile.
He held up a hand. “No, thank you. Like those blintzes, I’m stuffed.” The women politely laughed at his lame attempt at a joke. Then he stood. “Thanks so much, ladies. Everything was delightful, including your company. But I’ve got a lot to get done today, so if you’ll excuse me.”
“We have a lot to do too,” Gina told him. “I’m going to keep working on the landscaping and planters, and Mara and Cass are going to start painting the doors and trim on the barn. Won’t that look nice?”
“Yeah, it hasn’t been painted in years. What color?” he asked.
“Well, it might sound weird, but I got this really deep espresso brown.”
“Brown? With red?” He rubbed his chin. “The trim’s always been white.”
“But red and white is so provincial.” Gina dropped her napkin on her plate. “Plus, the white gets dirty and looks dingy. To be honest, I’m not a fan of the red, but we can’t afford to change that right now.”
