It took Mara a second to realize Jolie was talking about Timon and Pumbaa from the song. That made her grin. “I hope my music didn’t wake you up.”
Ford shook his head as he peeked into the oven. He knew better than to open it. All her brothers had learned that lesson early. Consistent temperature was critical, especially when she was getting to know a new oven.
Soon, she’d have a look at the one in the other farmhouse. She couldn’t wait.
Ford checked out the Danishes she’d made. “We’re up early for the ducks every day. You won’t bother us.”
Jolie nodded. “We didn’t hear the music until we were downstairs.”
Which probably meant she was playing it a little too loud, especially when she started singing.
“What’s in the muffins?” Ford had a weakness for muffins.
“Apples, of course, with honey, walnuts, and raspberries.”
His eyes lit up. “I’m glad you’re here, sis. We’ll be back to sample once the ducks are ranging.”
“Take a Danish to go if you like.”
She didn’t have to suggest it twice. He snagged two while Jolie took one. They both moaned at the first bite, making Mara smile. They called their thanks as they headed out the back door.
Grinning, she turned her playlist back on but lowered the volume. “Ease On Down the Road” from The Wiz got her working on the load of dishes with a smile.
Seth gritted his teeth as he stretched his leg. Mornings were a bitch. He reminded himself that each ache meant he was alive. Each time he unlocked a tight muscle, he was ensuring he’d continue to walk on his own.
Worth it, but he still cursed every time. Hurting like hell was better than dead.
Like Maki.
He’d been a handful of years younger than Seth. His potential was off the charts. The kid had been thrilled to be on an elite team. Being the youngest didn’t bother him. He’d taken to calling them all Gramps instead of their callsigns when they weren’t on missions.
He’d been funny, sharp, and entirely focused when they were on a mission. Maki was a bit green, but would have been the best of the best in a few years. Seth had figured him for a lifer, one who would move up the ranks quickly.
Instead, he’d been blown apart by an IED.
With another muttered curse, Seth shoved the images out of his head and focused on unlocking the next muscle.
By the time he used the bed to leverage himself to a standing position, he was sweating and exhausted. And the sun had barely risen.
But he was alive to see it.
Hoping the farmhouse’s hot water tank was the size of an elephant, he let the water and steam do their thing.
Seth was almost human by the time he headed down the stairs in search of coffee.
He memorized the squeaks as he moved. It was easy to hear them in the morning quiet.
Quiet until he hit the halfway mark. Music from the kitchen had him betting Chaos Machine was up early, too. As a baker, she would be used to early mornings.
As he neared the back of the house, he heard her singing along. Something about a woman named Lola getting whatever the hell she wanted.
Chaos Machine probably identified with the woman in the song. He wondered if she’d relegated the cleanup to other people wherever she’d worked before.
He considered exploring the farmhouse instead of heading into the kitchen, but he wasn’t a coward. He didn’t want to face the kitchen mess without a gallon of strong black coffee.
The woman probably drank coffee covered in sprinkles and whipped cream.
With a shudder, Seth pushed open the door while the music shifted to something with a quick Latin beat. Chaos Machine was drying dishes by the sink with her back to Seth.
