Free Love Unexpected by Jody Hedlund Page B

and blouse from the chair where she’d draped them. After shedding her nightgown, she thrust her limbs into the garments, but she didn’t have the same urgency she’d had last night.
    Maybe the grief over his wife was still too fresh to think about sharing intimacies with another woman. She could only imagine how hard it would be to marry someone so soon after burying a beloved spouse. Or maybe he was following through with his promise that he wouldn’t expect anything of her. Whatever the case, she was relieved he hadn’t visited the bedroom.
    She rushed into the kitchen still braiding her hair. Whenshe saw him standing in front of the stove, his back to her, she halted abruptly. He’d shed his coat and rolled up his shirtsleeves, revealing his tanned, well-muscled arms.
    Two pans sizzled on the griddle before him. In one, he was browning several fillets of fish, and in the other he was flipping griddle cakes. Dismay chilled her, and she crossed her arms over her chest. She should have risen earlier and had breakfast waiting for him. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have any idea how to make the griddle cakes or where to find the fish. It was her job, and she’d failed to do it.
    â€œHi, Mamma.” Sitting in his high chair, Josiah was fully dressed and in the process of shoveling a whole griddle cake into his mouth.
    At Josiah’s greeting, Patrick swiveled, a long-handled spatula in one hand and a knife in the other. His eyes looked tired still. But when he saw her, he nodded.
    â€œGood morning,” he said. “I hope we didn’t wake you. We were trying to be quiet.”
    â€œMe quiet,” Josiah said through the mass of food in his mouth, his shoulders straight with the pride of his accomplishment.
    â€œI should have been up earlier.” She started across the kitchen. “Would you like me to finish so that you can attend to other things?”
    â€œI don’t mind.” He turned back to the stove. “I’ve always cooked breakfast.”
    His words stopped her, and she stared at his rippling muscles as he flipped one of the golden cakes.
    He pointed the spatula toward the coffee grinder on the sideboard. “Would you like to make the coffee again?”
    She was too surprised by his proficiency at the stove to do anything but nod and do his bidding. By the time the coffee wasperking, he had plates loaded with fish and griddle cakes. Her stomach rumbled at the tantalizing fried aroma that filled the small kitchen. She didn’t think she could have resisted sitting down in the chair across from him even if she’d wanted to.
    She picked up her fork, ready to stab a piece of fish, but stopped when Patrick reached out a hand toward both her and Josiah. The boy laid down his half-eaten griddle cake and placed his hand in Patrick’s big one. “Pray, Daddy?”
    â€œYes, lad.”
    Josiah reached a hand toward her too, his sticky fingers mingling with hers. Apparently they were in the habit of praying before meals and holding hands while doing so. She glanced at Patrick’s outstretched hand waiting for hers.
    She edged her hand nearer, letting her fingers slip around his. At the warmth and solidness of his touch, her whole body heated. The green of his eyes was bright, almost curious. She lowered her head, hoping he wouldn’t see her reaction.
    After a hesitant second, his grasp tightened. Her stomach turned strangely taut.
    â€œHeavenly Father,” he said softly. He spoke to God naturally and effortlessly, almost the same way her mam had prayed, like God was really there listening and waiting to answer. “We thank you for providing this meal and for blessing me with a new helpmate and Josiah with a new mamma.”
    Her heart flooded with warmth. Patrick thought she was a blessing. She didn’t hear the rest of his prayer, except for the amen, echoed by Josiah who wiggled his hand from hers, eager to get