Dakota Love (9 page)

The door glass rattled with each thump when Rodney knocked on the back door. He’d sat in his pickup a few minutes, deciding which door to use. Caroline used the side door for business, but should he use it tonight? No porch light brightened either door, but the kitchen window’s inviting glow lured him to the back door. The entryway and outside light popped on at the same time.

Caroline swung the door open wide, her broad smile the only acknowledgment he needed. “Come in.” She motioned toward the kitchen with a tea towel. “You know the way.”

Rodney followed Caroline up two steps to the kitchen, relieved to see he’d made an appropriate wardrobe choice. She also wore jeans. Her oxford shirt, multistriped in earthy greens, blues, and browns, complemented her strawberry blond hair. He slipped off his stocking cap, gloves, and coat, then stuffed the hat and gloves down the arm of his coat.

“I’ll take that.” Caroline laid the tea towel on the table and reached for his jacket.

“Just a second.” Rodney pulled a shiny bag from his coat pocket.

“What’s that?” Caroline asked, looking at the bag as she took his coat and hung it in a closet at the other end of the kitchen.

“I know you told me not to bring anything, but I wanted to contribute something. So…” Rodney flipped the foil bag so the label faced the front, then rested the bottom on one hand and gently held the top with two fingers as if it were a bottle of wine. “A half pound of Daily Jolt’s finest decaffeinated coffee aged to perfection. And ground in the event you don’t have a grinder.”

“Thank you. It will go perfectly with my homemade chocolate cake.” Caroline removed the bag of coffee from its perch. “Unless you’d like some with dinner?”

“No, I prefer water with my meals.” Rodney made an exaggerated sniffing motion. “I’m thinking the Queen of Quilts might earn a new nickname, like Duchess of Dinner. The trout smells incredible.”

Caroline’s face beamed with pleasure. “I’m glad you think so. I’m a little rusty at this.”

The beep of the oven timer turned her attention away from Rodney, much to his dismay.

He watched Caroline lift a roasting pan from the oven. “Do you need help with that?”

“No, but you could fill those two glasses with water and take them to the dining room. I’ll plate the trout and be right in.”

Rodney rounded the corner of the dining room and saw a beautifully set table. When was the last time he had dinner like this that didn’t involve a holiday at Michelle’s? Since he was so tired of eating his dinner while he perched on the arm of his sofa, he’d have been happy sitting at the kitchen table. He felt spoiled. There was one problem, though. They weren’t sitting close enough. He set the water glasses down. Probably a bold move on his part, but he moved a place setting to the head of the table so he could sit closer to Caroline. He finished rearranging the other place setting just as Caroline rounded the corner, carrying a tray that contained a platter and two small bowls filled with fruit.

“I hope you don’t mind.” Rodney took the bowls from Caroline that held orange sections, maraschino cherries, grapes, banana slices, and apple slices. He put them in the middle of their dinner plates.

Caroline set an attractive platter arrangement of trout almandine, long-grain rice, and asparagus on the table between the two settings.

She began to chuckle, which turned into a full-fledged laugh. The laugh lines at the corners of her eyes deepened, much more attractive than the pesky crevice that appeared when she worried.

“I changed our place settings three times.” She motioned for Rodney to sit at the head of the table. “I liked this arrangement best but thought it might be too”—pink tinged her cheeks; then she shrugged in it’s-too-late-now fashion, never letting her bright smile fade—“intimate. Please sit down.”

“Not for me.” Rodney moved closer, then reached around her and took hold of the chair back.

“Oh.” Caroline sat and let Rodney guide her chair to the table. “Do you know how long it’s been since someone’s done that for me?”

Rodney slid his own chair closer to the table. “A long time?”

“Yeah.” Caroline sighed the word. She reached for the serving spoon. Rodney stopped her hand in midair by covering it with his own.

“I’d like to say grace.” He squeezed her delicate hand.

“Please do.” Caroline wrapped slender fingers that felt like silk around Rodney’s hand and bowed her head. Rodney’s family folded their hands in prayer when saying grace, but had he known Caroline’s tradition was to hold hands, he’d have prayed out loud versus silently at every meal they’d shared together. He’d longed to touch her since their first meeting when their simple handshake left a faint tingle on his palm.

“God in heaven, thank You for the bounty of Your love that You bestow on us each and every day. You are a faithful Father, letting us cast our cares upon You and providing for all our needs. Bless the food we are about to receive. In Jesus’ name, we pray. Amen.”

“Amen.” Caroline gave his hand a gentle squeeze before releasing her grasp. “Better dig in before the apples and banana start to turn brown.”

Rodney gave her a short salute, spread his napkin in his lap, and scooped a spoonful of fruit. Caroline shook her head as if annoyed by his antics, but her blue eyes twinkled with amusement.

“How was your day?” he asked.

The deep sigh and sagging shoulders answered Rodney’s question long before Caroline spoke. Worry pushed the happiness from her features. Regret that he’d asked about her day washed through him. Not quite the mood he’d hoped to set.

“Jason visited this morning.”

Odd that that would make her unhappy. His mom had been overjoyed when he’d visited. And Michelle seemed glad to spend time with her own sons.

Caroline reached for Rodney’s empty fruit dish, stacked it with hers, and set them aside. Caroline efficiently served the main course. “Is this enough?”

“That depends on if I can have seconds.”

The corner of Caroline’s mouth twitched. He waited for the corner of her bottom lip to disappear. “You might want to taste it before you ask for seconds. I haven’t made this dish in years.”

“Well, if it tastes as good as it smells and looks, then I’ll want seconds.” Rodney took a bite of the fish and rice. The nutty rice and flavor-filled fish melted on his tongue, his low growl of pleasure inadvertent. “This is fantastic.”

“Thank you.” Caroline gave a curt nod and tasted her dinner. “How was your day?”

“Typical. Since last week’s snow thawed in yesterday’s forty-two-degree temps and this morning it was ten degrees, we made the rounds to all my clients’ houses and put ice melt on the walks and driveways.”

“You know what they say about South Dakota’s weather. If you don’t like it, stick around for an hour because it’ll change.”

“That’s the truth.”

“Do most snow removal companies check for ice when it thaws?” Caroline sipped her water and blotted the corners of her mouth with her napkin.

“I don’t know. I do it because I have elderly clients. Even if they’re able to spread the ice melt, they shouldn’t be out on the ice.” Rodney helped himself to more trout and rice.

“Rodney, that’s very thoughtful.”

“Well…” How could he tell her that guilt drove him to provide that service? The thought had never entered his mind that his mother had needed help with things like that until she insisted he come to her house to recuperate. He saw how much she paid to unreliable service companies that did a mediocre job at best. How long had she struggled with that or relied on a neighbor to help?

“It’s part of the job. By the way, I received an e-mail from my mom’s cousin.”

“An answer about the quilt? Is another mystery solved, Sherlock?”

Rodney mocked removing a pipe from his mouth. “No, Dr. Watson, I don’t believe so. In fact, it may have added another one. She seems to think that another of our cousins, who moved to California years ago, made it.”

“So you don’t have contact information for that cousin?”

“No, because I didn’t even know Mom had a cousin in California.”
Can’t know your relatives if you never visited home much
. “I sent another mass e-mail to see if any other relatives keep in contact with her.”

“Guess that’s all you can do, and if she is the one who made the quilt, then mystery solved.”

Caroline and Rodney finished their dinner in companionable silence.

Rodney pushed his empty plate toward the center of the table.

“I’ll get the coffee and dessert.” Caroline eased out of her chair.

The quiet that filled the dining room in Caroline’s absence surrounded Rodney. He missed eating a freshly cooked meal at a table. He missed sharing dinner with someone. He missed Caroline. Rodney started to gather the dishes on the table.

Caroline stopped pouring coffee into cups when Rodney entered the kitchen, carrying a stack of dirty dishes. “You didn’t have to do that! You’re my guest.”

“I’m your friend.”
God, please let her think more of me than a guest
. Rodney sent up the silent prayer, then set the dishes on the counter.

“Yes, you are.” Caroline’s tender expression and soft-spoken words engaged a flutter of hope inside Rodney. Friendship was a start.

“Shall we go back to the dining room?” Caroline picked up the saucers and balanced the cups.

Rodney picked up the individual servings of cake. “Here is just fine.” He turned and set them on the kitchen table.

“I have something to show you.” Caroline gently put the saucers and filled cups down. “I’ll be right back,” she said over her shoulder as she headed toward the basement.

When she returned, Rodney had polished off half of his cake and coffee. “You’ve outdone yourself,” he said and slipped another forkful of cake into his mouth.

“Do you know how nice it is to cook for someone other than myself?”

“I’m guessing as nice as it is to eat at a table and share conversation.” He exchanged a smile with Caroline. “What have you got there?”

“It’s the practice block for the candy store’s quilt. What do you think?”

Caroline laid a large block out on the table, then dug into her dessert.

In awe of her abilities, Rodney whistled. “I’m amazed at how you looked at that drawing and came up with this.” She’d cut the jelly bean fabric into a hexagon shape that resembled the old-fashioned candy store jars from years past. A simple rectangle from the red material became the jar lid. Black thread accentuated the jar and lid shape and, he guessed, held them onto the brown square block. It truly looked like candy in a candy jar.

“I think the store owner will be pleased.”

“I hope so.” Caroline crossed her fingers. “It turned out almost perfect on the first try.”

Rodney recognized the pride in her work that settled in her features. He’d seen it on his own face for years and again recently with the work on Caroline’s website.

“At least something went right today.” Caroline pushed the block to the side of the table. Sadness washed across her features. “Would you like another piece of cake?”

Clearly she was trying to change the subject. Rodney yearned for another piece of cake but guessed the fudge frosting was laced with butter. “Thank you, but no.” Rodney patted his stomach. “I’ve had plenty, but I could use a coffee refill.” Rodney rose before Caroline had the chance and picked up the coffeepot and dry creamer. “How about you?”

“Fill ‘er up.” Caroline scooted her cup toward him.

After pouring her coffee, Rodney turned the kitchen chair sideways and stretched his legs to their full length, crossing them at the ankle. He stirred the creamer into his coffee. His next question could go two ways, but it was worth the risk. He wanted to be trusted with Caroline’s cares just like she shared the love of her work with him.

“Do you want to talk about your day?”

Caroline puckered her mouth to the side, but the worry crease never appeared. Her eyes searched his face. For what? Sincerity in the question?

“I really don’t want to bother you with my troubles.”

“I asked, so how can it be a bother? Besides, we’re friends, right?”

“Yes, we are, but…” Hesitation filled her voice. “I just don’t want you to view Jason in the wrong light. He’s a good person, but Ted’s death was hard on everyone. We buried him a week to the day before Jason’s wedding.”

A joyous occasion turned bittersweet by the loss of a loved one. “That must have been so hard. I can’t even imagine.” Rodney reached over and clasped Caroline’s hand, the only comfort their current relationship allowed.

“Hard doesn’t even begin to describe it.” Caroline sniffed as the memory misted her eyes. “But that’s not the problem. Please don’t think we’re horrible people.”

Like Mr. Workaholic, who’d chosen to ignore his biological family and failed to start one of his own, had the right to judge anyone’s family dynamics. He tightened his hold on her soft hand as a sign of encouragement to continue.

Her blue eyes locked on his. “Jason doesn’t support my business venture. He thinks I wasted my money on the long arm machine.” A flash of anger passed over her features. “He doesn’t want me to work, just like Ted didn’t, but…”

Disgust pulled at Rodney. Did he expect her to stop living because his dad died? What was wrong with Caroline’s having a career? Who would it be hurting? She was too young to wither away in an empty house, which it appeared she’d been doing for over a year. Rodney purposely kept his voice even. He didn’t want his reaction to shut Caroline down. “But?”

Caroline huffed. “I have to work, and I’m tired of him voicing his opinion about it every time I see him. I know it’s risky, but after today I’m more determined than ever to make this business succeed.” She pulled her hand free of Rodney’s and rapped her fist on the table in determined emphasis.

Rodney’s heart jumped. Caroline revealed another layer of her personality. “Fired up” became her. Her rosy cheeks deepened to a shade just lighter than her hair, making the blue in her eyes more vibrant. He suppressed a chuckle, understanding now why some men teased a woman to annoyance. “Then now would be a good time to show you an update I made on your website this afternoon.”