Free Love Finds You in Frost Minnesota by Judy Baer

it into blessing. Thank You for the food, the fellowship, and the bright joy of Christmas. Amen.”
    Hildy had a way of reaching into one’s heart with her prayers, Merry noted. She must have reached deep into Jack’s tonight. He had lost the color in his face, and he stared at Hildy as if she’d just revealed something very personal about him to the world. Then he gathered himself together and turned to his food. He ate with his head down, eyes fixed on his plate.
    It was some moments before he looked at her again. There was an expression on his face that Merry couldn’t define. Pain? Regret? Or maybe her imagination was working overtime. Perhaps it was just plain gratitude that they had a new cook for the night.
    “I don’t know how to repay Merry or you, Hildy, for the amazing food I’ve had while I’m here,” Jack pronounced after dinner. He pushed away from the table and leaned back so only the two back legs of the chair rested on the floor. He was relaxed again after whatever had been troubling him.
    Hildy snorted. “You’re paying your bill, aren’t you? As for me, I enjoy cooking for more than one. My husband and son could practically eat us out of house and home. Now, if I cook a roast, I’m eating it in sandwiches, hash, and steak salads for a week.” She eyed Jack. “Maybe next week I’ll bring one over. Will you still be here?”
    “I hope not, but the way things are going it’s likely. I’ll probably be here until January.”
    “What about Christmas?” Merry interjected. “Don’t you have plans for Christmas?”
    Jack shrugged. “Not really. I usually go to church on Christmas Eve and to Vince’s place for pizza on the twenty-fifth.”
    “That’s it?” Merry looked aghast.
    “I don’t plan even that, but it’s usually how it works out. Otherwise I cook myself some scrambled eggs.”
    “Then I want you to be here for Christmas so I can show you what it’s really like! You’ll come too, won’t you, Hildy?”
    “Well, I don’t know . . .”
    “Turkey, dressing”—Merry eyed Jack—“and at least four kinds of pie. I’ll bake some and so will Hildy. Right?”
    Jack smiled. The contrast from his normal demeanor was so pronounced that both women burst out laughing.
    “We got him with the pies, Hildy,” Merry joked, and the conversation turned to easy, idle chatter.
    After Hildy left, Jack helped Merry carry dishes to the kitchen and load the dishwasher. Their shoulders brushed as he organized the plates and she placed the dirty glasses in the top basket. Merry was growing accustomed to this cozy domesticity.
    Jack turned to leave and Merry asked, “What are you doing?”
    “Me? I’m going to bed,” Jack said, looking startled by the question.
    “I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to my cat. Why is he following you?”
    “Is there a rule against that?” Jack bent down and scratched the cat’s head, producing a roaring purr from somewhere deep inside the feline.
    “Nog never follows anyone around except me.”
    “You could have fooled me,” Jack commented as he mounted another stair step with the cat on his heels. “I don’t mind. He sleeps on my feet when he’s in my room. And considering how cold it’s been, it feels pretty good.”
    Merry’s jaw dropped. “He sleeps with you?”
    “I only let him in when he meows at my door. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
    “No, I don’t mind. It’s just that . . .” Her voice trailed away. She did mind, actually. It wasn’t that Jack was allowing the cat to sleep with him but that the cat even wanted to!
    “Traitor,” she muttered under her breath.

Chapter Eight
    • • • • • • • • • • • •
    “Uh-oh. Here comes trouble,” Abby said as she looked out the window. There was a lull in the shopping frenzy, and both she and Merry were taking a breather.
    Before Merry could ask more, the door to the shop slammed open and the baubles on the trees trembled from the impact. Regina Olsdorf roared