Page 42 of Noble Neighbor
Grateful Oliver wasn’t there to notice this time, she buried her face in the quilt and willed the emotion away.
Hearing his booted steps on the wooden planking, she sucked in a breath, placed the quilt on top of the picnic basket and grabbed it by the handle, bypassinghim on her way to the kitchen. But her intention to unpack the basket went by the wayside as she stood before the sink and stared out into the dark yard.
Oliver’s reflection appeared beside hers in the window. “Nostalgia?” he asked, meeting her gaze in the glass.
“Today …” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “There were so many families … multi-generational families,” she clarified. “It brought back memories. When I was a little girl, we were four generations under one roof. It was crowded, but so wonderful. And come apple season, Mom and my grannies would spend days in the kitchen, canning, stocking the pantry with enough pie filling to last the year. Mom’s apple pies … they were the best.”
Sunny blinked, stroking a hand over the quilt.
Oliver’s eyeline briefly dropped to follow her movement before lifting again, questioning, understanding there was more.
“Granny made me a quilt when I turned thirteen. She called it a courting quilt, and my daddy almost had a heart attack. ‘No boy’s gonna be courtin’ my Sunny-girl on any dammed quilt,’ he groused.” Sunny chuckled. “Little did he know I lost my virginity on that same quilt.
“Anyway” — she drew in a ragged breath and patted the quilt — “I picked this one up at the craft shop lastweek. Store bought; no history to it. It’s a silly sentiment,I know, but … my girls … Granny won’t be giving them a courtship quilt, nor will they be eating themselves into a coma on Mom’s apple pies. We’re on our own. Just the three of us. They’re missing out on so much.
“Kenzie and Molly have done nothing wrong, yet they’re paying a heavy price. It’s just … so unfair,” she whispered.
Oliver linked his hand with hers and brought it to his lips. “I’m sorry for your loss, Sunny. My mom … she made a wedding ring quilt for me and Christie, and … well” — his lips quirked — “it still covers my bed, a reminder of the woman I loved. Guess we’re both a bit sentimental?”
She could only nod at his reflection and didn’t protest when he pulled her into his embrace.
In truth, having Oliver’s strong arms close around her and his large and warm hands rub over her back felt wonderful, and bit by bit, her heartache eased.
Sunny understood she was crossing the barrier she’d erected around herself — and her girls — but found she did not care anymore.
Being with Oliver was inevitable. Fated even.
12
Spicy and tart and sweet
“It’s supposed to be a simple chicken coop,” Sunny voiced after shifting her gaze from the sketch in her hand to the growing pile of building material being offloaded. She shook her head, not quite finding the words.
Ronan had surprised her when he’d all but begged to let him build the coop when she’d mentioned looking for pre-made ones.
But this? It was a lot more than the four posts and chicken wire with a few nesting boxes and a roosting perch she’d envisioned.
Ronan grinned. “Chickens deserve a decent home.Happy hens are healthy hens, and healthy hens lay nutritious eggs, hence ‘Chez Poulet’.”
Sunny snorted. “More like Cluckingham Palace.”
Her coop builder threw back his head and laughed.
“Thanks again for organizing this, Ronan.”
“Keeps me busy, and honestly, with Harlan’s kids in school, this gives him and Ruth somealonetime. Win-win in my mind.”
A dust cloud on Chicory Lane caught Sunny’s eye.
Her heart rate sped up as the truck turned off and drove closer, Oliver behind the wheel.
He’d been around twice since Monday, sharing some drugging kisses with her. From a toe-curling brush of his lips across her knuckles to an indulgent knee-weakening exploration of her mouth.
A hand waved in front of her face, jerking her from her ruminations. Ronan flashed a grin. “Earth to Sunny. You were miles away, girl.”
“Yeah. Sorry.” Sunny returned Ronan’s grin with a faint smile of her own. “I’m all yours.” But then made a lie of her words as her eyeline moved to the truck pulling in beside hers under the carport.
She watched Oliver get out and walk across to his father. Ronan had roped in the two men, and Frank, who’d arrived earlier, was sorting through the machinery he’d dragged from his workshop.
