“Wow.”
He turned to see Kara standing just inside the kitchen hallway.
“You like?” he asked, motioning her into the room.
“This is… no wonder you can cook.” She shook her head and chuckled. “With a kitchen like this, I’d learn to cook too.”
“This room is all my mother’s doing. She spent more hours in here than any other room. She’s the one who taught me how to cook, bake, and can.”
She turned to him, a surprised look on his face. “You know how to can foods?”
He smiled and, as an answer, walked over to the huge walk-in pantry and opened the door. “See for yourself. I made everything in there.” He motioned around after turning on the light.
She stepped past him slowly and into the pantry. Each of the four walls were lined with shelves that were stocked with everything from homemade applesauce to canned zucchini.
“You have everything alphabetized?” She turned to look at him.
He shrugged. “My mother set up the system. I just kept it. It works.”
Her fingers traced over the rows and rows of jelly he’d made. “You make Florence’s Jams?” She held up a jar and showed him. “I bought some at the farmer’s market.”
He nodded and felt a pinch in his heart that always happened when he saw his mother’s name on the label.
“Yes. My mother’s name was Florence.”
She gasped slightly and then held the jar to her heart as if protecting it. “I… I’m sorry.”
He shrugged and walked over to place his hand on her shoulder lightly. “Keep the jar. Take more if you want.”
He thought about losing it all, losing everything in this room to his uncle and cousin, and felt his stomach turn. “Come on, dinner will be ready.”
“Nick.” Kara stopped him by putting a hand on his arm. “Your mother would be very proud of you. I remember how much she loved you. You were lucky to have as much time with her as you did.”
He remembered that her mother had died before she and her father had moved there. She’d spent years without a mother before her father had finally remarried. He couldn’t imagine growing up and not having his mother there, even for the short amount of time he’d had her.
Nodding, he took her free hand and walked back out into the kitchen.
“I set the dining room table.” He walked her through the kitchen. “There’s some wine chilling, but if you want—”
“Wine is good,” she said as they stepped into the dining room.
“Sit,” he said, pulling out the chair. “I’ll pour some wine, and you can sip it while I grab the food.”
She sat down, setting the jar next to her plate. He’d done everything except light the candles, which he did now.
“This is very nice,” she said, after taking a sip of the wine. Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You didn’t make it, did you?”
He laughed. “No, I draw the line at fermenting anything.” She smiled. “I did try making some currant wine once.” He visibly shivered. “It didn’t go well.”
He left her laughing as he went into the kitchen to plate the meal, which he’d left warming in the oven.
After poking his head into his father’s room to make sure he was okay, he took the plates into the dining room and sat down.
“Wow, okay, some serious chef skills,” Kara said after the first bite. “Why hasn’t anyone tied you down?”
He smiled. “I just haven’t found the one that I want to tie me down. How about you?”
“I’m married to the ranch,” she said between bites. “Besides, you know what’s available in this town.” She rolled her eyes. “Other than Willy and his gang, there’s…” She tilted her head as if she was thinking. Then she shrugged. “There’s about five other men, most of whom are either married or…” She shook her head. “Nope, they are either part of Willy’s gang or married.”