Love Finds You in Groom, Texas Read Free Page B

daughters’ lives. He’d worked hard to give them a home—and life—they could be proud of. Most of that had unraveled in the end, but at least he’d tried. And the illusion of having a fine home and clothes had gotten her through those rough years after Mama’s death.
    Anne’s thoughts shifted to Uncle Bertrand. No doubt Emily found it easy to name him as the villain in her novel. He came across as such, both in manner and in appearance.
    Anne had done her best over the years not to be put off by the way he looked. His protruding chin and long, thin nose made it difficult, of course. One couldn’t help but stare—at least when he wasn’t looking. Of course, being the gentleman, he always wore a proper suit and hat and spoke with an exaggerated air. Beneath that handlebar mustache, however, was a mouth that could rip a person to shreds. She’d experienced his hurtful words firsthand on many occasions.
    Then again, he was their only living relative, and he had sent for them upon their father’s death. Surely he wouldn’t bring three girls into his home without careful thought and preparation.
    She relaxed against the seat. Yes, likely he had softened upon hearing the news of his younger brother’s death. And caring for his three nieces was the penance he would pay for the cruelty he had bestowed upon others in years past. Perhaps Uncle Bertrand would turn out to be like one of the heroes in Emily’s story—a fine man with a good heart who rescued damsels in distress.
    One could hope, anyway.

    As Jake entered the house, his mother’s voice rang out in singsong fashion. “Take off those muddy boots, Jakey O’Farrell. Don’t want to make a mess of my rugs. I spent this morning mopping up the mud you dragged in last night.”
    He bit back a response and pulled off the boots as instructed.
    “I’ve made your favorite meal, son.” She entered the room, wiping her hands on her embroidered apron. “Chicken and dumplings. And blackberry pie for dessert. I know how much you love my blackberry pie.” She flashed a bright smile and opened her arms in anticipation of a hug, which he promptly delivered.
    “I daresay this season’s blackberries are the best we’ve ever had. Those little nieces and nephews of yours have been picking buckets and buckets. Don’t know what I’m going to do with so many.” She straightened a wayward hair on his forehead. “Guess we’ll have to eat a lot of pie. And jam.” She pinched him on the cheek. “I know how much my boy loves his mama’s homemade jam!”
    He could almost taste it now. Still, Jake couldn’t get Cody’s words out of his mind. Did folks really see him as being a mama’s boy?
    “You don’t have to cook for me every night, Mama,” he said at last. “I’m a grown man. I can—”
    Her smile faded at once. “But I love cooking for you, son. It’s one of the few remaining joys in my life.” She paused and lifted the hem of her apron to dab her eyes. “Ever since your father passed away…”
    Jake managed a weak smile. Say no more. “Can’t wait to taste that blackberry pie.”
    “Now, there’s my boy.” She paused to glance in the large mirror above the buffet. “Gracious, this red hair of mine is as unruly as a tomcat after a brawl. I’ll need to tend to it before supper. But first I’d better get back in the kitchen. Those dumplings are going to overcook if I’m not careful. And we can’t have that, now, can we? No sir, only the best for my Jakey.” With a nod, she disappeared into the kitchen.
    For a moment or two, Jake contemplated throwing himself off a cliff. He finally decided a bowl of chicken and dumplings sounded more appealing. There would be plenty of time to fret over his “mama’s boy” status later.
    And, indeed, there was. No sooner were the dumplings consumed and the dishes washed than Mama busied herself with some needlework in the parlor. That left Jake free to take a stroll and think about a potential solution to his