Once the dogs were settled, they moved on to the “cat barn.” The four-legged furry animals seemed to come out of the woodwork. Raymond stuck close to Meg. Though he was around cats at the shop, never so many at one time.
The cat barn had once been a smokehouse used by Griff’s grandparents for curing meat before the common availability of freezers. Inside were all manner of climbing areas that led to cozy little nooks. A total of fifteen cats pranced about, taking a turn at rubbing against Griff’s legs. They too adored him.
Once the cats were served, Griff and Meg moved on to the big original barn where they fed the eight horses and four cows. There were two large pigs rooting around in a smaller pasture beyond the barn, and they got a little something as well. Raymond was quite curious about the snorting creatures. Meg was fairly certain he’d been around horses and cows before but never pigs.
As they headed to the house, Meg surveyed Griff’s farm. No matter how many times she came here, she was still impressed by the well-thought-out setup and the enduring relationship between Griff and the animals. It really was a special place. She glanced at the man next to her. A special man.
Who deserved a woman without secrets, who could share this wonderful life with him.
She blinked away the notion. Certainly not her.
Inside, he picked up her bags and said, “I’ll take these upstairs.”
She nodded and did what she knew needed to be done. “I’d feel more comfortable if we locked the doors.”
He studied her a moment, then gave a quick nod of his own. “Course.”
She locked the door and he headed up. She moved on to the kitchen and locked the back door as well. The urge to search the house gnawed at her, but she ignored it. There was no reason for her to suspect an ambush at his address. At least not yet.
Sad. Very sad.
He joined her in the kitchen. “Your room is the second door on the right upstairs. There’s only one bathroom up there. I hope you don’t mind sharing.”
“Not at all. I’m grateful for your hospitality.”
He waved her off and headed for the fridge. “Rhianna Glen dropped off a casserole this afternoon.” He withdrew a white covered dish embossed with pink flowers. “Chicken, broccoli and rice, I think she said.”
Meg grinned. “I see. Rhianna Glen, huh? That’s nice.” No matter that she kept a teasing lilt in her voice, jealousy poked at her. This was the sort of woman who would end up wrangling Griff. Someone who had no secret past, someone who had the option of staying forever.
He laughed as he set the dish on the counter, removed the lid and prepared to put it in the microwave. “She’s just trying to be nice.”
Now Meg laughed outright. “I know you aren’t that naive. She’s recently divorced and you are a very...” How did she put it without sounding overly interested? “A good catch.”
He pressed the Start button and the microwave hummed to life. “Good catch.” His forehead furrowed and he executed a slow nod. “Makes me feel kind of like a largemouth bass.”
Meg barely suppressed another round of laughter. “You know what I mean. Rhianna is a woman of a certain age whose upbringing has taught her that having a husband is the only way to be happy, and therefore, she must replace the old model posthaste.”
Now Griff was the one laughing. “I guess so. Plenty of that going around lately.”
Meg leaned against the counter next to the sink. “So, you’re saying Rhianna isn’t the only one.”
Rhianna and her husband had divorced after four short years. No children. Rhianna was a lifetime resident of Piney Woods. She no doubt felt she should have first dibs on the town’s most eligible bachelor.
He shrugged, reached into the cupboard for plates. “There may be a couple of others who bring me food. It’s nothing new.”
Meg decided she wouldn’t mention people did that for funerals too. “They say the stomach is the way to a man’s heart.”
He placed the plates on the counter next to her. “Not this man.”
He held her gaze for several seconds, and the look in his eyes somehow prevented her from breathing. “Sorry,” she said in the lightest tone she could muster. “I wasn’t aware you liked casseroles so much.”
“I don’t...really.” He searched her face as if looking for answers to something he wanted to ask.
Uh-oh. Back to the questions. She shifted away, opened the utensil drawer and grabbed a couple of forks. “It sure smells good.” He said nothing but it was true. “I’ve never been much of a cook,” she rambled on. She’d tried since getting settled in Piney Woods, but her heart had never been in it.
When she turned back to him and passed the forks, he said, “Clearly you have other skills.”
His gaze held hers in that probing way again, and somehow, try as she might, she couldn’t look away. “Most animals love me, so I guess that’s my superpower.”