All Grown Up. Janice Maynard

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      “Holy cow, Sam. That will cost a fortune.”

      Coming from the daughter of one of the wealthiest families in America, her amazement was telling. “Yeah,” he said, grinning. “But I’m an architectural purist. What can I say?”

      The lights flickered a second time, galvanizing him into action. “I need to go bring in as much firewood as I can. If the power goes out, we’ll camp out in the living room.”

      “That’s behind the kitchen, right?”

      “Yes. The two rooms share a chimney. Fortunately, that section of the house has already been finished. If you don’t mind, how about making us a couple of omelets while I get the wood. If we do lose power, it would be nice to have one last hot meal.”

      Annalise blanched.

      “What’s wrong?”

      “I’m not handy in the kitchen,” she said with a wry, self-deprecating twist of her mouth.

      “Nothing fancy,” he assured her. “There’s lunch meat in the fridge. Just chop up some ham.”

      She grimaced, and for a split second he witnessed in Annalise a shocking vulnerability he had never seen before. “I’m serious, Sam. I don’t cook.”

      The expression on her face seemed to indicate she was awaiting his derision. And although he was certainly incredulous, he tried to hide his surprise. “I guess that makes sense. Growing up without a mother must have been tough.”

      “I wanted the chef to teach me. When I was thirteen. But Daddy said it was inappropriate for me to spend time in the kitchen when I could be learning Latin and Greek. He has odd ideas about things like that.”

      “And in college?”

      “I lived in the dorm. Ate in the cafeteria. When I got out on my own, it wasn’t an issue. I order a lot of take-out, and when I entertain, I hire a caterer.”

      He was momentarily speechless.

      Annalise lifted her chin. “I know your grandmother is a fabulous cook. And I’m sure your mother is, as well. But if that’s what you were expecting, you’re out of luck. I planned on eating a lot of cereal and canned tuna while I’m here.”

      Sam inhaled, feeling as though he was stepping through a minefield. “It’s not important, Annalise. You caught me off guard, that’s all. I have this impression of you as being Superwoman, and I suppose I thought there was nothing you couldn’t do.”

      Her tense shoulders relaxed. “That’s a nice thing to say.”

      He tugged her hair. “I can be nice on occasion. When I’m not continually provoked.”

      “Is that a jab at me?”

      He lifted an eyebrow innocently. “Would I do that?”

      They laughed softly in unison, and he felt an imperceptible shift in the parameters that had governed the recent cold war between them.

      Annalise waved her hands. “Go get the wood. I’ll make some sandwiches. And I do know how to heat soup.”

      “Well, there you go,” he said. “What more do we need?”

      He found himself whistling as he carried armload after armload of wood into the house from the pile beside the barn. Something inside him felt charged with anticipation, though if he’d been called on to identify the odd feeling, he wouldn’t have been able to pin it down. For the moment, he was content to enjoy the prospect of an evening with a beautiful woman.

      If they had to rely on the fireplace for everything, the supply of logs would dwindle rapidly. So he labored until his arms ached and his back protested. When he finally was satisfied that they had enough fuel for the immediate future, he replaced the tarp covering the woodpile and prayed they wouldn’t need to revisit it anytime soon.

      As he returned to the house, a rush of warm air greeted him along with the sound of Adele’s voice filling the hallways at high volume. He found Annalise singing along, oblivious to his entrance as she bent over the kitchen table, arranging two place mats at perfect angles and aligning silverware.

      It shouldn’t have surprised him to see a high-end iPod dock. Those suitcases had been heavy enough to contain a whole range of electronics.

      He waved an arm, hoping to catch her peripheral vision, but she jumped anyway, clutching her chest. “You scared me.” She turned the volume down several notches. “Are you ready to eat?”

      He was still wearing his jacket, which was now really wet, so he hung it over a chair and put the chair near a vent. Annalise set an opened beer and a bowl of tomato soup in front of him and added a small plate laden with a sad-looking grilled cheese. It wasn’t exactly burnt, but she had used too much cheese, and the excess had leaked out the side and turned crispy brown.

      She hovered until he took a bite of each offering. Then in silence, she brought her own dishes to the table and sat down. With the heat from the stove, the room was finally warm. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam watched her eat. She had tied her hair back in a thick ponytail, revealing a neck begging to be nibbled by some lucky man.

      Sam took a swig of beer, swallowed and set the bottle on the table with a muffled thunk. Leaning back in his chair, he stared at her. “So tell me, Annalise. Is there some guy back in Charlottesville who’s going to be missing you while you’re away?”

      She gave him a wary, sideways glance. “I’m not seeing anyone at the moment. I’ve been slammed at work, and frankly, the last man I went out with was a little too needy. I don’t have time for all that romantic crap.”

      He lifted an eyebrow. “Crap?”

      “You know. Texting twenty times a day. Long dinners and hand-holding in the park. Seriously, the man was a walking Hallmark card.”

      Sam grinned. “A lot of women like that kind of thing.”

      Annalise frowned at him. “I don’t cook and I’m not into romance. Anything else you want to find fault with?”

      “Calm down, Princess. I’m not criticizing. I happen to think you’re a fantastically talented person. I was impressed with the way you organized that carnival for the new school in Burton.” The Wolff family was in the process of funding and building a brand-new school at the foot of Wolff Mountain so the K-8 students wouldn’t have to be bussed so far away.

      She narrowed her gaze as if trying to discern sarcasm in his words. “I thought I saw you there.”

      “I didn’t speak to you because you were so busy. Like a general in charge of an army. Everything went smoothly as far as I could see.”

      She nodded, pleasure lighting her face. “The community wanted to be able to invest in the school project financially. And they did…in a big way. The carnival raised a ton of grassroots money.”

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