Cora made a sound of delight and followed Mr. Rees into the kitchen.
After a glance in her room to watch Brian place the trunk on the floor against the wall, Ivy trailed her friend into the kitchen, which was a generous space, rougher than she was used to, with the log walls and wooden countertops, instead of marble, countertops over a bottom row of cupboards on each side of a dry sink. Shelves held dishes, spices, and other sundries for cooking. A window without curtains in the back wall let in light. Warmth exuded from four-burner, cast iron stove on one side of the room and a fireplace on the other.
A square table with three chairs was pushed against one wall. And a narrow door, which she presumed led to a pantry or root cellar, was opposite. She wondered if an icebox was inside.
With a grunt of exertion, Mr. Rees set down the basket on the table. “Were you afraid my cupboards were bare, Cora?” he said in a light tone. “Remember how full you stocked them the last time you were here?”
Cora sent him a saucy smile and reached into the basket. “I only brought two loaves of sourdough bread and one of rye. I thought you could freeze two.” She unpacked each item and set them on the table. “A slab of bacon. Two dozen eggs. Cheese. A crock of butter. A dozen apples. And….” She made a dramatic pause. “I didn’t think you’d want to be tied to the kitchen when Ivy just got here. So I spent yesterday cooking in Constance and Elsie’s apartment kitchen.”
Brian walked in. “Smelled mighty good, and she wouldn’t let me have as much as a taste.”
“Don’t listen to him.” Smiling, Cora wagged a playful finger in Brian’s direction. “He had plenty.”
Ivy laughed, never having experienced Cora acting flirtatious, and leaned to peer into the basket at various pans covered with dishtowels. “Hmmm, don’t tell me. Let me guess. Cold fried chicken.” She ticked off the items on her fingers. “German potato salad. Honey-glazed carrots. Stewed apples.”
Brian cocked an eyebrow, staring from Ivy to his beloved and back. “Good guess.”
“Cora has a limited number of recipes she knows how to cook.” Ivy waved toward the basket. “That’s about her whole repertoire.” She sent her friend a teasing glance before looking back at Brian. “I hope you like those meals, because you’ll be eating it a lot.”
“Ivy!” Cora pretended to wail. “You’re giving away my secrets!”
“Well, darn.” Brian smacked the side of his leg. “That makes sense, because you feed me those a lot.”
Cora shot him a glare without any real heat.
Chuckling, he held up his hands in surrender. “You make great scrambled eggs. Bacon. Pancakes. Sandwiches….”
Cora stuck her nose in the air. “I can cook more kinds of food. These are just the ones I do thebest. And, I’ll have you know, I’ve learned a bit more from helping out when I’ve gone to various women’s homes for my nursing cases. They appreciate my help in the kitchen. And unless you all stop being so mean, I’m going to withhold the very best.”
“But how can we resist?” Ivy asked in a playful whine, enjoying their byplay. “Teasing you is such fun.”
Mr. Rees crossed his arms. “Miss Jackson has the right of it.”
Not sure if her employer was serious, Ivy glanced at him, in time to see a gleam in his eyes before he looked away.
Cora nudged Mr. Rees’s side. “Don’t be so formal,” she said gaily. “Call herIvy.” She poked his chest. “And you’reTorinto her.”
Relaxing his arms, he slid a quick sideways glance at Ivy. “With your permission?”
Using his first name might be too intimate. But what’s best for Jewel?“The difference between Miss Jackson and Ivy might be confusing for Jewel.” With a tilt of her head, she looked at Cora for confirmation. “Have you noticed Jewel struggling with you or the other women having both formal and informal address?”
Torin answered for her. “Constance slid in day one withConnie.” He made quote marks with his fingers. “Same for Elsie.” He raised a chin toward Cora. “We’ve used Miss Cora, but also just Cora.”
“I refuse to be known asJust Ivy.” She tried not to meet Torin’s eyes, not wanting to see if they shared a sense of humor.Bad enough that I’m attracted to his handsome appearance.
He avoided looking at her.
Is he shy, or is there something more?
Cora reached into the basket and brought out a cloth-covered, rectangular pan.
“Surprise!” She beamed at the group. “Mrs. Pendell’s famous peach cobbler!”
Everyone looked blankly at her.
She laughed. “So much for my fanfare! Of course, none of you have heard of her. The housekeeper at Green Valley Ranch, owned by Tyler and Lily Dunn, is famous for her peach cobbler. Every time Mrs. Pendell brings this cobbler to a social event, the dessert is gobbled up in no time.” She bustled over to set the pan onto the counter.
“At this time of year, she must use canned peaches,” Ivy stated. “Do peach trees even grow in Montana?”
