“You could have tried the truth, young lady,” Delia chided.
Abby looked shocked. “You mean told her Daddy was here?”
“That’s correct.”
“No way,” Abby said, shaking her head emphatically. “She wouldn’t have come. You said so yourself.”
“And now I think I was wrong. Sue me. It should have been her choice.”
“Come on, Aunt Delia,” Helen protested. “Leave Abby alone. We need to eat. What difference does it make if Marianne brings us lunch?”
“That’s right,” Gracie said. “It’ll give us more time to decide whether to sand and polish the floors upstairs or to carpet them.”
“You don’t carpet over fine oak floors,” Delia protested, clearly horrified by the suggestion. “What on earth are you thinking?”
Helen grinned at Gracie. “Oh, I suspect I know exactly what she was thinking.”
“Hush,” Gracie warned. “It worked, didn’t it?”
“What worked?” Delia demanded. “Would the two of you stop talking in riddles?”
Helen stood up and tucked a hand under Delia’s elbow. “Come on. Let’s go see what kind of shape those floors are in, okay?”
“Can I help Daddy and Uncle Kevin paint?” Abby pleaded. “I’ll be careful. I’m bound to be neater than they are.”
Gracie nodded. “If your father says it’s okay.”
“All right! He never says no.”
“More’s the pity,” Delia grumbled.
Despite her complaints, though, Delia beat the rest of them up the stairs and led the survey of the wide-planked floors. “Nothing a little elbow grease and polish won’t fix right up,” she declared. “The last few years I was here, I couldn’t keep up with them the way I should have. And since then, well, no house fares well when it’s been untended. I suspect we can rent a buffer and fix these up in no time.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” Gracie agreed, which she had all along. There was no way she would have put carpet over the wood, but Delia never had to know that. Fussing over the floors had gotten her mind off Abby’s deception.
“Well, of course, I’m right,” Delia huffed. “I ought to know my own floors.” She sighed, a nostalgic expression on her face. “Oh, my, how they used to gleam. There’s nothing quite like the look and scent of good wood, when it’s just been waxed.”
Just then Kevin stuck his head out of the bedroom door at the end of the hall. “Gracie, could I see you in here a minute?”
“Sure,” she said and went to meet him.
“Inside,” he insisted.
When she stepped into the room, he closed the door behind her, then backed her against it in a movement so swift it caught her totally off guard. His mouth slanted across hers in a hungry kiss. Several breathless minutes later, he stepped away and smiled.
“Morning, darlin’. Seems like I’ve been waiting for hours to get the day started right.”
Gracie’s senses slowly stopped spinning. When she could finally gather her wits, she murmured, “Good morning to you, too. You must be having a good day.” Apparently, he was also over his irritation with her.
“Good night, good day,” he said. “They’re all sort of rolling together lately.”
She glanced around. “Where have you stashed Bobby Ray? I thought he was in here with you painting. You haven’t locked him in the attic, have you?”
“No. I just sent him on to the next room, so you and I could have a little privacy.”
“And Abby?”
“She’s with him. Bonding, I hope.”
“I don’t think you need to worry any more about the two of them bonding, not if it’s left up to Abby. She has plans. Big plans.”
Kevin’s expression turned worried. “Oh?”
“Marianne’s on her way over.”
His good mood soured at once. “Gracie! I thought we discussed that. I thought we’d decided to stay out of it, now that the idea’s been planted in Bobby Ray’s head.”
“I don’t recall agreeing to any such thing. Besides, I didn’t have anything to do with it, I swear. It was Abby’s idea.”
“But obviously you didn’t try to stop her.”
“No,” she said with a touch of defiance.
“I’m amazed Marianne agreed to come.”
“Actually, she thinks she’s coming to bring lunch. I don’t think she’s aware that Bobby Ray is here, unless she happened to wonder at the number of sandwiches she’s picking up. Abby said she called ahead to the restaurant and ordered enough for an army.”
Kevin sighed. “I see.”
He didn’t sound convinced. “Marianne can leave right away if that’s what she wants to do,” Gracie pointed out, trying to sway him.
“I suppose.”
She stood on tiptoe and gave him another smoldering kiss. “Stop worrying.”
“I can’t. It’s what I do.”
“And you’re very good at it. Everyone appreciates the fact that you care so deeply about them.”
“You must not have been around all those times I was told to mind my own damn business.”
“True. I missed that.”
“Taking care of this crowd is not terribly rewarding.”
“You’re looking for the wrong sort of rewards then. Take Helen. Have you noticed the sparkle in her eyes?”
“No.”
“Well, I have. I suspect we can thank Max for that.”
“Is that supposed to thrill me?”
“It should if what you’re really interested in is her happiness. And then there’s Bobby Ray.”
“What about him?”
“Just look how he’s pitching in today. Last night was a turning point for him.”
“If it was, it’s because of you.”
She waved off the comment. “It doesn’t matter why. All that’s important is that he’s obviously trying to change. Then there’s Delia. She has a whole new lease on life. I’m thinking of asking if she wants to come over for a few hours every afternoon and have tea with the guests, shower them with a little of her southern charm.”
Kevin groaned. “Which means I’ll have to drive her over. I’ll never get in any good rest time in my hammock again.”
Gracie winked at him. “Oh, I think I can come up with an incentive for you to do that, something a whole lot more interesting than lounging around in that old hammock of yours.”
He looked
