Page 11 of Love in Mission City
Monday morning, I found him sitting on my front porch when I trundled out of the house, intent on moving the crates from the bed of my pickup. I’d left them there the night before, quite certain no one was going to sneak three miles from Mission City to steal them away.
Zeus, my border collie, bolted after me.
When he spun and started barking like the mad dog I knew him to be, I turned to find Henry sitting on the front porch with a basket on his lap.
My breath steamed in the air, and I tried to calculate just how fricking cold it was out. “How long…?”
“Not long.” He rose slowly. He advanced a step toward me.
I backtracked, advancing toward him.
We both halted.
He held out the basket. “I baked some biscuits.”
“Oh.” I rubbed my itchy nose. “Are you offering? Because I haven’t had breakfast yet.”
He nodded.
“Would you like to come inside? It’s warmer.”
He visibly shrank back, actually stepping away.
“But that’s totally fine. We can eat out here. Would you like me to bring out some butter or jam?”
“Both.” He eased himself back into one of the matching wooden chairs.
“Great. Let me grab the cushions as well.” I brought them into the house with the first frost, but kept them handy for mornings just like this when I wanted to sit and look out over my fields. This chilly weather never daunted me. I hurried into the house, returning with the cushions a moment later. “Coffee?”
“Uh, if it’s no trouble.”
“I have a pot going. Black, or—”
“Black, thanks.”
I re-entered the house and stalked to the kitchen. I prepared two coffees in insulated mugs, grabbed two plates, nabbed the butter and jam…and realized I’d either have to make two trips or find my seldom-used tray.
Tray it is.
As I assembled everything, I eyed my little vase with its single pink rose made of glass. I’d bought it for myself on Valentine’s Day this year when I’d been feeling particularly low.
Too sappy. He wants coffee and biscuits.
Fair enough.
I settled everything on the tray and headed toward the front door. Getting outside was awkward, but I managed.
Henry rose when he saw me. He placed the basket on the arm of the chair, then came to take the tray.
As I closed the door, I hissed. Well, Zeus’s name didn’t come out as a hiss, but he got the message and backed away from thebiscuits he’d been sniffing. I snagged the tray back from Henry. “You sit. Oh, you organized the cushions, thank you.”
“Seemed the least I could do.”
“Well, you brought biscuits.”
“Yeah.”
We settled.
