LITMIR.BIZ

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And he didn’t want to betray Laney’s memory. But Elise was clearly here for Cody, not Jack, and in order to help the boy, he’d undoubtedly spend time with the woman who had the same goal. Helping the child. Nothing more, nothing less.

      She inched away from him. “I don’t have to help if you’d rather I not go in.”

      Jack had never been rude, and he wouldn’t start now. He eased the door open wider. “No, that’d be great. The biscuits are on the stove.” Then he felt the need to apologize. “And ignore the fact that there isn’t much in there yet. Like I said, I’m still working on the furniture.”

      She gave him a soft smile and stepped inside while he placed her coffee mug on the top step near his own and then handed Cody the glass of milk.

      Cody took a big sip, keeping his mouth firmly against the cup while he gulped several swallows, and then placed the cup beside him on the middle step. He had a milk mustache that Jack might have mentioned, but he didn’t want to do anything that would cause the boy to be embarrassed. Or to leave. And he realized that he’d been preparing for this moment, waiting for it, since Cody left yesterday. Not only the chance to try to help the boy, but also the chance to spend time with the pretty therapist exiting his cabin with the remainder of the biscuits.

      How he ached for a woman’s touch, not merely her physical touch, but for her touch in his home. Just a quick glance around his Spartan surroundings revealed the absence—the need—of a feminine presence. But he couldn’t think about that now. He had a mission. To help a little boy.

      And if that meant spending time with this attractive lady, he would.

      “You’d already buttered them, right?” she asked, and Jack pushed those wayward thoughts aside.

      He nodded. “Yeah, and I hope y’all like butter. I’m kind of partial to it.”

      “I can see that.” The right corner of her mouth lifted as she moved to the top step and then pulled the lower plate out from under the one that held the remaining six biscuits. Jack had taken two earlier and still had one on his plate. “I love butter, and I’m pretty sure Cody does too.”

      She put three of the biscuits on a plate and handed them to Cody. “That about right for you, Cody?”

      He didn’t answer but stared at the biscuits, and she must have taken that as a yes, because she then turned to Jack. “You want another one, or two?”

      “One,” he said, finding it oddly comforting to sit beside her on the porch and have her serve him a biscuit, as if this were something natural. And as if he hadn’t been eating all of his meals alone for as long as he could remember.

      Cody hadn’t touched his biscuits but instead looked to Elise as though waiting for something. Jack watched as she gave the boy a little smile.

      “Would you like to say grace for us?” she asked Jack.

      His skin prickled, and he had the sudden recollection of AmyJo and Sadie singing their prayer at the kitchen table. “You can.” He couldn’t control the gruffness of his tone induced by the bittersweet memory.

      Her mouth slid to the side, eyebrows dipped in concern, but then she bowed her head. “Dear God, thank You for letting me find Cody this morning, and thank You for Jack’s willingness to share his meal. Bless this food, Lord, and bless our day. In Your Son’s name, amen.”

      Apparently, the word amen held the same connotation as ready-set-go for Cody, because he scooped up a biscuit the moment she finished and nearly ate half of it in one bite. His mouth worked vigorously as he chewed, and he grabbed his glass of milk and gulped more to get it down.

      “Hey now, slugger—” Jack patted Cody’s knee “—slow down, or you’ll get choked.”

      Elise nibbled on her biscuit but laughed as she chewed. “He’s right, Cody. Take your time.” She spotted the jar Jack had tucked behind the porch post. “Is that honey?”

      Jack had already coated his first two biscuits, but he should’ve thought to offer some to his guests. He reached for the jar. “You’ll have to forgive me. I’m...not used to having company.”

      She took the honey, waited a beat, then asked, “And you weren’t really planning on having anyone here at all, were you?” The question begged for an answer that elaborated on his reasons for setting up his home in the middle of nowhere, escaping civilization and everything it entailed, all of the pain it instilled, but Jack wasn’t ready to explain. Didn’t know if he’d ever be ready. He’d already told her more than he’d planned.

      So he simply said, “No, I wasn’t,” and when he saw Cody frown, he added, “But it’s okay.”

      The boy didn’t smile, but the frown lifted into the flat line that he often displayed when he appeared to tighten every muscle in his face in an effort to control...something. Maybe that kept him from speaking when he wasn’t ready to talk yet. Or maybe that was the way he hid his own emotions. Rather than build a cabin in the woods, he built a fortress around his words and protected them with a vengeance.

      Suddenly, Cody pointed toward the jar Elise now held in her hand.

      “You want some too, Cody?” she asked with a smile. When he held his plate toward her, she lifted the top off one of his remaining biscuits and poured the honey in the center. “See what you think.”

      The boy took a big bite and hummed so deeply it sounded like a growl.

      Elise’s eyes lit up. “That good, huh?” She drizzled the honey on her two biscuits and grinned when Cody held his plate toward her for more. She obliged him by covering the other biscuit with honey and then told Jack, “I hope you have more inside, because we’re making a huge dent in your stash.”

      “I bought a few jars when I went to the store last week, so I’m good.” He’d thought it would last him a while, but if he had more morning visits from Elise and Cody, that might not be the case, because Cody was again motioning for more of the sweet substance, and still humming.

      “It’s delicious.” She took another bite. “Is it local?”

      “Yeah, I bought it in Stockville. The woman at the grocery had it for sale near the counter and said she gets it from a beekeeper that lives nearby.” He ate more of his biscuit and tried to recall the last time he’d had casual conversation while sharing a meal. He couldn’t. And the realization not only made him grateful for this time, but sorrowful that he’d been without anything like it for so long.

      He truly missed his family.

      “That’ll keep you from getting sick, you know.” She grinned as Cody ran a finger through some of the honey that had escaped his biscuits and pooled on his plate. He popped it in his mouth and hummed even louder.

      “Honey will keep me from getting sick?” Jack took another bite.

      She nodded as she sipped her coffee. “That’s what my grandmother always said. She put a spoonful in her coffee each morning to help with colds and allergies.” She shrugged, took another bite of biscuit. “I have no idea whether it actually works, or if it’s an old wives’ tale, but that’s the story. Something about taking in the local pollen to build up your immunity.”

      Jack had never heard anything like that, but he knew that people from the South had their own way of looking at things, their old-fashioned remedies that often proved to be true. He’d stayed in a small town near Birmingham a few years ago when filming Jacob’s Dream and had fallen in love with the easy lifestyle, the moderate climate and the charm and grace of Southerners in general. It’d been part of the reason he’d looked for something in this location when he’d decided to retreat from the world, the beauty of the place, rather than the people. He hadn’t planned on getting all that close to the community.

      But here he was, undeniably getting close to these two.

      Cody held up his palms, and Jack saw that, while all of his biscuits and the entire glass of milk were gone, his hands were

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