Page 36 of The Holiday Gift

She fiddled with the knobs again, then smacked the front of the grill. “Why won’t you light, you stupid thing?”

“Yelling at it probably won’t help much.”

She whirled around at his comment and he watched as delectable color soaked her cheeks. “Chase! Oh, I’m so glad to see you!”

He was aware of a fierce, deep-seated need to have her say those words because she wanted to seehim, not because she had a problem for him to solve.

“Mary said you’re having grill trouble.”

“The darn thing won’t ignite, no matter what I do. It’s not getting propane, for some reason. I’ve been out here for ten minutes trying to figure it out. It’s a brand-new tank that Flynn got for us a few weeks ago and we haven’t used it since. I checked the propane tank. I tried dropping a match in case it was the ignition. I tried all the knobs about a thousand times. I just think this grill hates me.”

He found it more than a little amusing that she had learned to drive every piece of complicated farm machinery on the place over the last two years and could round up a hundred head of cattle on her own, with only the dogs for help, but she was intimidated by a barbecue grill.

“This one can be finicky, that’s for sure.”

She frowned at the thing. “Travis had to buy the biggest, most expensive grill he could order—forget that the controls on it are more confusing than the space shuttle.”

She didn’t say disparaging things about her late husband very often. In this case, he had to agree with her. He had loved the guy, but she was absolutely right. Travis Dustin always had to have the best, even when they couldn’t afford it. His poor management and expensive tastes in equipment—and his gross negligence in not leaving her with proper life insurance—had all contributed to the big financial hole he had left his family when he died.

“I’ll take a look,” he said.

She stepped aside and he knelt down to peer at the connection. It only took him a moment to figure out why the grill wouldn’t work.

“Here’s your trouble. Looks like the gas hose isn’t connected tightly. It’s come loose from the tank.”

He made the necessary adjustment, then stood, turned on the propane and hit the ignition. The grill ignited with a whoosh of instant heat.

She made a face. “Now I feel like an idiot. I swear I checked that already.”

“It’s easy to overlook.”

“I guess my mind must have been on something else.”

He had to wonder what. Was she remembering that kiss, too? He cast her a sidelong look and found a pink tinge on her cheeks again that might have been a blush—or just as easily might have been from the cold.

“Thank you for figuring it out,” she said.

“No problem. You’ll need to let the grill heat up for about ten minutes, then I can come back and take care of the steaks.”

“Thank you. No matter how well I think I know my way around all the appliances in my kitchen, apparently this finicky grill remains my bugaboo. Or maybe it’s outdoor cookery in general.”

“I can’t agree with that. I seem to remember some mean Dutch oven meals where you acted as camp cook when Trav and I would combine forces for roundup in the fall.”

“That seems like a long time ago.”

“Not that long. I still dream about your peach cobbler.” Usually his dreams involved her kissing him between thick, gooey spoonfuls, but he decided it would probably be wise not to add that part.

Still, something of his thoughts must have appeared on his face because she seemed to catch her breath and gazed wide-eyed at him in the multicolored glow from the Christmas lights.

“I didn’t know you liked it that much,” she said after a moment, her voice a little husky. “Dutch oven cooking is easy compared to working this complicated grill. I’ll be happy to make you a peach cobbler this summer, when the fruit is in season.”

“Sounds delicious,” he answered, his own voice a little more gruff than usual, which he told himself was because of the cold—though right now he was much warmer than he might have expected.

She swallowed hard and he was almost positive her gaze drifted to his mouth and then quickly away again. Hewassure the color on her cheeks intensified, which had to be from more than the cold.

Wasshe remembering that kiss, too? He wanted to ask her—or better yet, to step forward and steal another one, but the door from the house opened and Louisa popped her head out.

“Hey, Chase! Where’s Addie? Didn’t she come with you?”

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