Page 18 of Her Silver Fox Mountain Men

Dinners are even more interesting because Janice Peterson, the twins’ trusted babysitter, often comes over with a fancy and ridiculously delicious dish for us to try out. Tonight, we’re all staring at a giant casserole made with layers of minced turkey and potatoes, among other things. It smells fantastic.

“It looks delicious,” I say.

The dish reigns at the center of the table. We’re gathered around, candles flickering throughout the kitchen. Flames crackle in the fireplace, the scent complementing the notes of the deep red wine that Roman opened to pair with tonight’s dinner.

“I think I can go onMasterChefwith this thing,” Janice says, smiling broadly as she takes the serving knife and starts cutting into it.

“You had us at cheese,” James replies.

“Oh, honey, wait till you taste it,” she says. “I used Gruyère and a mature cheddar I found at the farmers’ market. It’s gonna blow your mind.”

“I have no doubt whatsoever, Janice. But what’s that aboutMasterChef, exactly?”

Oliver shoots him a cool grin. “Oh, come on, don’t tell me you already forgot. She’s been talking about it for over a month now.”

“They saw Janny’s pictures on Instagram!” Tricia chimes in.

“She’s gonna be on TV!” Ainsley adds.

I give Janice a surprised look. “Really? Congratulations!”

“Let’s see if I get past the casting stage first. They’re doing auditions in Boulder next week, and they invited me to try out.”

Janice is in her mid-sixties and retired for the most part. Her babysitting gig keeps her relatively busy along with the upkeep of a house she built with her late husband, so she’s mostly on her own. The guys have graciously given her a room here at the house in case she ever needs to stay over during poor weather conditions or if they need to travel.

“I think it’s really cool that you’re so passionate about cooking,” I tell her. “I think it’s great that you’re on Instagram, though you don’t strike me as the social media type.”

“Oh, I’m not,” Janice confirms, generously filling each plate around the table with a serving of her magical dish. “My nieces are, though, and they set up my Instagram account. They got me this fancy smartphone last year for Christmas, and I’ve been taking photos and posting them online. I didn’t think it would take off the way it did.”

“Janice here has gone quite viral, in fact,” Oliver says, then looks at her. “How many followers do you have now?”

“About ten thousand, give or take?”

“Wow,” I gasp. “You really are viral.”

“It’s how those talent scouts found me for the cooking show,” she giggles. “I wasn’t sure at first, but I might as well give it a try. When an opportunity like that lands in your lap, you take it.”

“I hope it works out in your favor,” I say.

James gives her an appreciative nod. “It’s never too late to discover and nurture a new passion, is it, Janice?”

“Janice is so cool!” Tricia says, her eyes wide with wonder at the plate in front of her.

“That she most certainly is,” I reply, fork in hand and ready to dig in.

“How about you, Elise?” Janice asks while we eat. “What brought you to Rustic in the first place? I don’t think I’ve asked you that.”

I give her a faint smile. “I came to Rustic because I like the area. The Rockies, the views… they’re gorgeous. I also like the lifestyle. It’s simple and quaint. I needed a place that was simple and quaint.”

The guys are watching me like hawks as I expertly skirt over the real answer.

“Where are you from originally?” she asks.

I’m not surprised by her line of questioning. Janice knows these people; she cares about them. I’m guessing she’s just being protective, like a good mother hen, making sure the woman they allowed under their roof, albeit temporarily, isn’t out to harm them in any way. I’d probably do the same if I were in Janice’s shoes.

“Chicago,” I say. “Born and raised.”

I hate lying. I try to do as little of it as possible.

---