Free Home Fires by Kathleen Irene Paterka Page B

the shadow of the capital building if Andy had his way… and her nights would be spent in his arms.
    Rose shifted on the bench. “Tell me more about your Uncle Steve. He sounds interesting.”
    “Don’t change the subject,” he warned. “Uncle Steve was a great guy, but he’s dead. You, however, are very much alive.”
    There certainly were days she didn’t feel that way. More like simply going through the motions. “I’m actually pretty boring. You’d be disappointed.”
    “I doubt that. There’s a story buried in you somewhere, Rose Gallagher, and I intend to find it.”
    A nervous laugh bubbled out of her. “I doubt my story would be a best seller. Get up, go to work, come home, go to bed. Repeat the next day.”
    “You missed the part about being a devoted daughter,” Mike gently reminded her.
    “I think my mother would take issue with that statement,” Rose said, dissolving in a fit of giggles in spite of herself. Devoted daughters didn’t live two hundred miles away. Devoted daughters didn’t pack up and move to Washington D.C. Devoted daughters lived right down the block or two streets over, close enough to share a ride to church or a Sunday-night supper.
    Devoted daughters stayed where they belonged.
    Rose sobered slightly. But where did she belong? Working alongside the Judge? Her mother definitely would agree.
    “Sure you work, everybody works. But you took time off to help your mother. I think that ranks pretty high up on the devotion list.”
    She found herself suddenly glad for the cover of darkness. At least he wouldn’t glimpse the hot flush rising on her cheeks at the unexpected compliment.
    “I know something else, too,” he continued. “You obviously don’t spend much time in the kitchen.”
    “I object. That is not a fair assessment.” Her laugh rang out on the soft evening breeze. “Setting an oven on fire shouldn’t automatically disqualify me. For all you know, I might be a great cook.”
    “People who like to cook usually sample their own cooking.” His voice carried a hint of gentle admonishment. “It doesn’t look like you eat much at all.”
    Rose squirmed on the bench. She didn’t need any reminders that her clothes hung on her, loose and ill-fitting, but when did she have time to hit the mall? Obviously she needed to make time. When a man thought to add his two cents worth, it was time for action. That was one nice thing about living in the city. People simply didn’t say such things. No one cared enough to comment.
    “Don’t think I meant that as an insult,” he said. “Far from it. You’re a beautiful woman, Rose. But you sure look like you could use an ice cream cone or two.”
    Though his face was lost to her in the setting sun, his voice was gentle, carried softly on the breeze blowing in off the lake. A part of her—a part deep inside that had been asleep for so long she’d forgotten how to daydream—sensed Mike was telling the truth. He hadn’t meant the words to wound, yet they had. Perhaps it was the mere fact he was able to speak the truth that she found so unsettling.
    “I suppose I have lost a few pounds in the last couple of months,” she admitted after some moments. She hugged herself close in the growing twilight. “I was putting in extra hours at work, trying to get things settled before I came home. I guess I forgot to eat.”
    “So there’s no need to worry. Your mom came through her surgery fine and she’s going to be okay, correct?”
    “She’s coming home from the hospital on Saturday.”
    “Looks like you’re in the right place after all.” Mike came to his feet and offered her a hand. “Come on, let’s go.”
    They were leaving already? Warily she took his hand and allowed him to pull her to a stand. She tucked her purse under one arm and frowned in the enveloping darkness. What did he mean, she was in the right place ?
    “Where are we going?”
    “This town is loaded with ice cream shops. We’re going to go get you