Page 58 of Kayla's Cowboy
“Flora, I think you briefly met Kayla when she came to the house a few weeks ago, and these are her children, Alex and DeeDee Anderson,” he said, resisting the urge to call Alex his son. After all, Flora didn’t need to be told—even if he hadn’t explained the situation to her, the resemblance was unmistakable.
Kayla shook the other woman’s hand. “Hello, again.”
“Hi. I hope you’re all hungry. I’ve got enough lasagna to feed an army.”
DeeDee smacked her lips. “I loooove lasagna, and Morgan says yours is fabulous.”
Jackson was astonished to see a pleased dimple in his housekeeper’s cheek, though she brusquely told everyone to wash up and get to the table before the food got cold. Luckily her culinary expertise with lasagna included a meatless variety and Alex consumed a vast amount, along with salad and garlic bread.
Flora sat next to Kayla during the meal and he saw the two women exchange amused glances when Alex took a third serving.
“That was wonderful,” Kayla said when they were done. Both DeeDee and Alex thanked Flora, as well.
“There will be cookies and homemade ice cream later in the afternoon,” she told them.
“Homemade ice cream,” DeeDee said reverently. “That is so...fantastalicious.”
“The squirt likes to make up words,” Alex explained.
“Someone has to,” DeeDee argued. “Why not me?”
“How about going to my room and playing a game?” Morgan asked DeeDee and Alex. “Dad won’t let us swim until an hour after we eat.”
“Swimming after eating doesn’t cause cramps,” DeeDee said. “I heard they proved it didn’t make any difference.”
“But why take a chance?” Jackson argued back with a friendly smile. “Especially after a big meal. So go have fun, there’s plenty of time for the pool.”
The three kids clattered out, Morgan’s dog faithfully following them.
“What can I do to help?” Kayla asked Flora.
“Nothing,” the housekeeper said. “That’s my job.”
Jackson grimaced. The kitchen was Flora’s domain and she fiercely protected it. He and Morgan often fixed their own breakfast but knew better than to do more than neatly pile their dishes in the sink.
The silence in the family room was awkward as Kayla sank onto one of the large couches.
“Flora seems efficient,” she said finally.
“Yes. She’s one of the best cooks in the area and keeps everything organized,” Jackson answered.
Kayla glanced around, likely trying to think of conversational topics. “This is quite a place. DeeDee was surprised. She expected something more traditionally Western.”
He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The design had largely been Marcy’s choice. Ironically, she’d walked out less than a year after it was built.
“What’s wrong?” Kayla asked.
“Nothing. The house works, though personally I would have chosen something that blends into the landscape better.”
“Oh, I see.” It was clear she’d understood the implication about Marcy. Kayla had always been sharp.
“My brother Trent built it,” he added. “Trent is a contractor now.”
“Trent is one of the cousins your folks raised.”
“Yeah, but Trent and Alaina are just as much my brother and sister as Josh and Madison.” That was something his parents had simply assumed was true when their orphaned nephew and niece had joined the household.
Kayla kicked her shoes off and tucked her legs beneath her. “I remember Trent. He’s older than you—sort of dark and brooding?”
“Yeah, he’s a loner, but we don’t let him bury his head too deep.”
“Alex is trying to sort out all the relatives, but he’s having a hard time.”
“My parents were thrilled to meet him yesterday.”
“I’m glad. They always seemed...nice.” Something in her tone made Jackson frown.
“Nice? You don’t seem that sure of it.”
Kayla glanced around as if to be certain they were alone, then shrugged. “I always liked them, but I’m not sure they felt the same about me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous...” His voice trailed off and she smiled wryly.
“Yeah,” she said. “Admit it, they didn’t approve of me as your girlfriend.”
“Please understand, Mom and Dad were disappointed that I’d broken up with Marcy. Her father’s ranch was next to theirs, and it must have seemed the perfect match to them.”
“Yep. Marcy was the girl next door, not the one whose mother drank her way through every bar.”
Puzzled, Jackson stared at Kayla. Her mother was obviously an alcoholic who’d made her childhood difficult, yet she didn’t sound bitter.