Chapter 4
“C ripes almighty,” Dal swore softly, his reflexes forcing him to turn to the left and gun his ride to avoid a T-bone situation. As it was, they missed each other by mere inches as he went left and Ainsley jerked hard to the right with the Artic Cat spraying snow and ice all over him. Once they were both stopped, anger bubbled to the surface as reaction set in.
Dal jumped off the snowmobile, shook the debris off his clothes, and wiped his face enough to see her and the kids still on the Artic Cat with Ainsley bent over the handlebars breathing hard. He could hear footsteps pounding through the barn and then the back doors were flung open, but he paid whoever it was no attention. He slammed through the snow to Ainsley and grabbed her by the arm, jerking her around to face him.
“Have ye lost yer mind?” he yelled, his breath coming out in puffs in the frigid air. “Ye or the kids could have been seriously hurt. What were ye thinking?”
Ainsley stared at him, the fear in her eyes fading and anger replacing it. “Let go of me, ye have no right to talk to me like that.” She tried to jerk her arm out of his grasp.
“Someone ought to turn ye over a knee,” Dal ground out between gritted teeth. “Driving that fast around a blind corner is just sheer stupidity. Ye were raised here, ye should know better.” He reached over and lifted Corey and Delilah off the back of the snowmobile.
Corey’s big eyes were laced with tears. “Ye’ll be all right, laddie,” he comforted him softly while Delilah hid her face in his shoulder. “Ye didn’t get thrown off, ye are all right now, both of ye.”
“What’s going on here? We heard the kids screaming.” Darro thundered the question at Dal. Even Angus was glowering at him.
“Ask yer sister,” Dal growled right back. “Here, take the kids, she’s scared them enough fer one day. I have work to do, as Angus has already reminded me.”
He handed the children off to a suddenly surprised Darro. Then with his back stiff with indignation, Dal stomped to his snowmobile, mounted it, and sped off. He didn’t even look back; he was too angry.
When he reached the north pasture, he parked the snowmobile by the gate and just sat there, letting the adrenaline rush wear down. Then he sighed and shook his head. Mayhap he shouldn’t have spoken to Ainsley like that, but miss high and mighty was due for a fall. If she’d been his girl, she’d fall right over his knee for the stunt she just pulled.
He got off the snowmobile and picked up his bag. If she wanted to continue playing queen of the manor and him the lowly worker, then so be it. A lass who would take that kind of risk with children wasn’t worth the time of day anyway. He wouldn’t spend any more time at Neamh than he had to until she had gone back to Boston.
Miss Ainsley MacCandish was nothing but a hoity toity brat.
Some of the cattle mixed in with the sheep were standing at the metal fence staring at him. They were Highland Coos, an early breed of Scottish cattle known for their hairy coats. Curiosity gleamed in their unblinking stare of their big brown eyes. It was if they knew what he was thinking and was disputing the error of his ways.
“What?” he snapped, raising his arms to shoo them from the gate. “She’s a bratty little lass who hasn’t gotten her fair share of spankings. What would ye have me do? Although that’s hard fer me to believe with Darro as her brother,” he muttered as he opened the fence and slipped inside with his bag. “And with Whipcord as her father. Mayhap it just didn’t do any good. In which case I’ve had a near miss. No doubt falling in love with an obstinate lass like that would just make my life miserable.”
The cattle didn’t reply and Dal rolled his eyes. “Now she has me talking to cows and we haven’t even had a decent conversation ourselves.”
As he set about his work, he wondered if it was too late to return the snow globe he’d ordered? When he found out that Ainsley loved snow globes, he ordered one especially made for her to keep in her room while she was in college. It was a small replica of Neamh inside the snowy glass. A reminder of home.
“I guess I can’t return it,” he said aloud with a huge sigh. “They don’t take back custom jobs.” He’d just keep it for himself and it would remain his secret.
***
A insley stared at her brother over the huge desk in his study, memories of their father calling her in for a discussion, or whatever else Whipcord had in mind flowing through her thoughts. She’d been over her dad’s lap too many times to count, and over Darro’s a few times while growing up.
“What were ye thinking?” Darro snapped, his glower truly reminding her of their dad in that moment.
She raised her hand to smooth her honey blonde hair behind her ear, her fingers trembling. Still shaken up from the near miss with Dal, she tried to get herself together. “I didn’t know Dal would be sitting there,” she explained. “I-I thought he would already be gone.”
Darro leaned back in his chair and studied her like a bug under a microscope. “I can’t help but notice ye have been pretty rude to Dal. If I thought ye did this on purpose I’d bend ye over this desk and take my cheeseboard to yer backside.”
Ainsley felt the red creep up her throat and into her face. His analysis wasn’t far off. While she hadn’t intended to put the kids in any danger, she had hoped to maybe startle Dal a little bit. She just hadn’t expected to nearly run him over.
“Of course I didn’t do it on purpose,” she fumed at him. “I would never put the kids in danger like that. I just wasn’t expecting him to be there.”
“So why are ye being rude to Dal?”
“I don’t want him getting any ideas that I’m interested, that’s all.”
“And ye think he’s interested?”
Ainsley allowed herself an eyeroll. “Since everyone has been teasing me about him falling in love with me just from sitting on my horse, what am I supposed to think?”
Darro grunted and steepled his fingers. “I can see how that might be awkward.”
“Ye think?”
Darro’s eyes narrowed. “Attitude, sis.”
Ainsley folded her arms and glared at him. “Aye, I have an attitude and I don’t like us being pushed together.”
Darro chuckled. “No one is pushing ye two. It’s more like taking bets on whether Dal has a chance or not.”
Ainsley stiffened with indignation. “He doesn’t. I’m not interested.”
“Why not? Ye could do a lot worse than Dal.”
“I still have two more years of college after the winter semester,” she finally replied. “It’s a moot point. Even if I was remotely interested in getting to know him, I don’t want to be in a long-distance relationship. He seems like a nice enough guy, but I don’t want to encourage him.”
Darro stood up. “I doubt ye’ll have to worry about that now. One thing about Dal is that he loves kids. Your value may have gone down after the stunt ye pulled.” His eyes gleamed at her in question, as if trying to gauge her response.
Ainsley tossed her head and stood up as well, a sense of disappointment flicking through her. She didn’t want Dal’s attention, his reputation as a player was well known. So why should it bother her if he gave up on her?
“I said I didn’t do it on purpose. It doesn’t matter anyway, I’m only here fer a few more weeks,” she replied stiffly.
Darro walked around his desk. “The least ye can do is apologize fer nearly running him over,” he ordered softly.
Recognizing that steely tone, she nodded. “Aye, I’ll do that.” Her brother’s threat about the cheeseboard wasn’t lost on her. Worse yet, she knew he’d do it too. Better to just grasp at the apology and let the attitude go. Besides, she really did owe Dal an apology. A tiny part of her was looking forward to actually speaking to him but she tried to squash the thought. She had a boyfriend waiting back in Boston who was treating her like a princess and she really liked him. Maybe even enough to marry him one day. And he would never threaten to spank her either. That comment of Dal’s had made her furious.
In the states they didn’t have the same attitude as these highland men, thank heavens. She loved being in Boston. She and Thomas hadn’t talked about marriage, but if they did marry, she’d probably stay in the states. He always said he wanted to travel to Scotland though. Maybe he’d fall in love with it and want to set up his lawyer’s practice in Inverness. It could happen.
Maybe.
Until then it was her secret. No sense in getting her family upset when nothing was set in stone. She knew for a fact that her protective brother wouldn’t approve of her living in the states so far away from home. And she didn’t feel like arguing with him for the short time she was here.
She turned and followed Darro out of the study and down the hallway to the kitchen. Lunch duty beckoned. It was already 11:30 a.m. It had taken the last hour and a half to get the snowmobile put away, the kids calmed down, and setting them up with something to entertain them before enduring Darro’s lecture. They would all be wanting some lunch shortly.
In the cheerful kitchen, Lucerne stood at the counter pouring herself a cup of tea while she held the baby over one shoulder. He was sound asleep, his tiny little mouth slightly open and his lips pursed against her shoulder on the burp towel.
Darro walked over to her and carefully took his son. “Let me hold him while ye relax with yer tea. He should be down fer his nap, shouldn’t he? If ye hold him all the time, he won’t want to sleep alone,” he scolded softly as he nestled the tiny babe on his broad shoulder.
“I need to walk a little bit according to yer uncle,” she replied with a small scowl. “Plus, I’m hungry and was looking fer something to eat and I didn’t want to leave him alone.”
“Have a seat and I’ll whip up some grilled ham and cheese sandwiches,” Ainsley piped up. “The tomato soup is already on warm on the back of the stove.”
“Sounds heavenly,” Lucerne enthused. “Thank ye, Ainsley.”
Ainsley placed all the fixings for the sandwiches on the counter and heated up the grill that covered two burners. “How many does everyone want?” she asked, throwing some butter on the grill.
Angus appeared in the doorway of the back entry. “I’ll have at least two of whatever ye’re fixin’,” he ordered, blowing on his fingers. His cheeks and nose were red from the cold and he was in his sock feet having left his outerwear in the utility room by the back door.
“That’s a given, Angus,” she replied with a chuckle.
“Dal will be in shortly. I helped him with the north pasture sheep since the wind is pickin’ up. It’s gettin’ colder than a witch’s behind out there.” He sniffed the air appreciatively.
Ainsley nodded but her heart rate suddenly picked up. It was normal for Dal to eat most meals with them, especially when the roads were more difficult to traverse, but the pending apology she was required to make had her nerves on edge. Would he still be angry with her? When she heard the back door open and shut, she focused on the sandwiches she was toasting and refused to look at the doorway.
“There ye are, lad,” Angus boomed. “Took ye long enough.”
“I had to get the snowmobile put away. It had some ice stuck near the intake fan,” Dal replied.
Ainsley stole a furtive glance at Dal. He was standing in the doorway brushing some ice and snow out of his messy blond hair. Stocking caps had a tendency to make your hair stand on end when you took them off. He was smiling that lazy, easy grin at Angus and the rest of the table.
She couldn’t take her eyes off the muscles clearly delineated in the form-fitting cream thermal shirt with the long sleeves pushed up. She had to admit, Thomas wasn’t nearly as muscular as Dal, but then they led two different lives.
Her eyes traveled down the tight jeans and over the muscles the denim was hugging and then back up to where she realized he was watching her. The smile was no longer there and he just nodded at her as he walked to the bench table and sat down.
Ainsley could feel her cheeks turn pink. “How many grilled cheeses would ye like, Dal?” Her voice was hoarse and she had to clear her throat to fully get the question out.
He glanced at her with a serious expression. The easy smile he’d always shot her way before was still hiding. “Two, please,” he asked with stiff formality. Then he went back to smiling at the others, and especially at the baby.
The rest of lunch was awkward. Ainsley tried to act as if everything was normal and no one else seemed to notice Dal’s change of attitude except her. He was polite to her when necessary, but that was it. The expression giving someone the cold shoulder took on a whole new meaning. How was she supposed to apologize when he was acting like this?
As soon as Dal finished his soup and sandwiches, he turned to Angus. “So, I’m off fer the afternoon, right?”
Angus nodded. “That’s right, lad.”
“I’ll be heading into town then,” he replied. “I doubt I’ll be back fer supper.” He unfolded himself from the bench seat and picked up his paper plate.
“Got a hot date?” Darro teased.
Dal shot him a grin. “Something like that.”
“Be careful on the roads,” Lucerne cautioned.
He nodded and turned to Ainsley. “Thank ye fer fixing lunch, the sandwiches really hit the spot.”
“Yer welcome,” Ainsley replied stiffly. He spoke nice words, but the smile was still taking a leave of absence—in her direction anyway. They were just words that didn’t mean anything without it.
“Our little Ainsley is turnin’ into a right good cook,” Angus cheerfully added.
“See ye in the morning,” Dal called over his shoulder as he strode through the doorway to the utility room.
Ainsley flushed as Dal ignored Angus’s compliment to the chef. Angus was probably just stirring the pot for his pool but Dal never took the bait.
“Ainsley?” Darro narrowed his eyes at her and jerked his head toward the doorway.
She rolled her eyes and huffed to a standing position, then followed Dal. She knew her brother wanted her to take this opportunity to give Dal the apology he had coming from her, but with his change in attitude, it suddenly seemed a high mountain to climb. She was used to the slow and toothy smile he usually shot at her whenever he caught her eye. Then she’d toss her head and look the other way, even if her heart skipped a beat.
She couldn’t deny that Dal was very attractive with a great smile. It rivaled Jamie’s sexy smile, although Jamie was completely unaware of his smile being sexy. But she’d seen Pauley melt under that smile and she knew the feeling.
She already had a boyfriend though, so why did Dal’s smile have to complicate things? Feeling small and unsure of herself, she dragged her feet but she knew she had to do it. It was either that or face the cheeseboard. She wasn’t at all interested in that option.
In the utility room, Dal was putting his boots on as she hesitantly walked up within a few feet from him, clasping her fingers together in a nervous gesture. “Dal?” she ventured.
With his second boot on, he straightened up and faced her, his greenish gold eyes staring warily at her. No lazy smile shot her way, just an abrupt one-word question. “What?”
“I-I just wanted to say that I’m sorry fer throwing ice and snow all over ye I didn’t mean fer that to happen,” she babbled, getting the whole thing out at once sans mental commas or pauses.
There, it was done. She moved from one foot to the other, waiting for him to accept it.
He studied her, still refusing to smile. Instead, he folded his muscled arms across his broad chest. “What did ye think was going to happen when ye cut the corner short like that?” he asked.
His eyes bored into hers with a seriously stern expression she’d never seen before today. He could almost rival Darro. How did Scottish men manage to look so intimidating while looking so sexy at the same time? Seriously, maybe they could teach men around the world a thing or three. And why were her panties suddenly feeling damp? That was not a reaction she should be having to Mr. Dallas MacIntosh. Thomas hadn’t even elicited that honor from her yet.
When he put it that way, she gulped and tried to chase an answer up from her bemused brain. What had she expected would happen? “I-I just thought ye’d be gone already,” she mumbled as if her brain train had left the station.
“If ye thought I was gone, what would be the point of doing it?”
Cripes, the man wasn’t going to let this go, was he? She shrugged defensively, hating that he was putting her on the spot. It had just been a spur of the moment thing. He’d been watching them go around the back of the barn a couple of times and...and...and what had she wanted? To teach him a lesson? To show him she was off limits to him? What? She bit her lip and her eyes dropped to the floor. She sure couldn’t tell him that. “I was just playing,” she replied with a careless shrug.
Then he reached out and tipped her chin up with one finger. “It doesn’t bother me that ye might have wanted to startle me or play a trick on me. I enjoy a good prank as much as the next person. I think ye wanted to make it perfectly clear that ye have no interest in getting to know me, and that’s okay too. But ye put Corey and Delilah in danger and someone could have gotten badly hurt. That’s not acceptable in my book. Since ye’re the boss’s sister, I can’t put ye over my knee and blister yer arse like I’d like to. But I can take a hint regarding yer attitude.”
Ainsley watched as he grabbed his coat and cap off the hooks and let himself out the back door without even putting them on. As he walked away, she felt a lump forming in her throat. She’d actually hurt him—and she truly hadn’t intended to do that. She whirled around as a sob choked itself up and out her throat. As she ran past the kitchen, she saw them all from the corner of her eye sitting silently and watching the doorway. Thoroughly embarrassed, she ran to her room where she slammed the door and collapsed into tears. Had they heard Dal’s stern dressing down?
Probably.
All bets were off then, she was the winner of the little pool Angus was running regarding Dal’s chances of snagging her. If she was a winner though, why did she feel like such a loser?
***
B en knocked on the front door of Thistlewind and waited for Poppy to answer. Now that his dad was married, he couldn’t just walk in anytime he pleased. He kind of missed that since he’d grown up in the homestead. But he needed to be respectful since Poppy wasn’t his mom. She made his dad happy and he liked her too. Which was why he’d enlisted her help.
Dottie’s new lasagna success had really motivated him. Such a sweetheart was his little Dottie! If she could take all those cooking lessons just for his sake, and produce such a winning recipe, the least he could do is reciprocate and take more of an interest in preparing tasty meals himself. It would be a Christmas surprise for his best lass.
The blue door with the gorgeous Christmas wreath opened and his step-mother stood in the warm air rushing out to meet him with a beaming smile. Her musical American accent floated into his ears. “Come in, Ben, come in. I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you’re doing this. I think it’s incredibly sweet, and Dottie is going to be so surprised.”
“Aye, thank ye, Poppy,” Ben replied stepping in from the cold. Closing the door behind him, he took off his boots and outer gear and placed them on the coatrack and the shoe drain. “It’s not getting any warmer out there, that’s fer sure.”
Poppy looked festive in her red jolly snowman sweater and black jeans. “This is my first winter in the highlands as you know. And you are right, it’s very cold. Chicago used to get a lot of snow and icy winds in the winter, but they seem milder in recent years. I’m not used to being in a climate where the snow actually stays on the ground all winter long.”
Ben chuckled as he followed her into the cheery kitchen. “Winter’s just begun, ye know.”
“We’ve had snow since Thanksgiving,” she replied with a laugh.
“That’s normal too.”
“It’s taking some getting used to, but I don’t mind it,” she added, going to the coffee pot. “Would you like a hot cup this morning?”
“I’d love it,” Ben replied fervently, taking a mug off the mug rack on the counter and entwining both hands around it while Poppy poured. The warmth immediately seeped through the stoneware and heated his hands. “Thank ye, Poppy.”
Poppy poured herself a cup and headed for the table. “So, what exactly did you have in mind as far as some cooking lessons?”
Ben sat down and glanced at his watch. “I’ve got about an hour to spare. I decided I’d like to learn how to make Clootie Dumplings. It’s one of Dottie’s favorite dishes during the holiday season.”
Poppy almost choked on her coffee. One eyebrow slid up. “A whole hour huh? Not to be discouraging, but I think you might want to start with something less ambitious the first time around. Even though I haven’t made them myself yet, I’ve read Lucerne’s recipe. An hour won’t be near long enough.”
Ben stared. “How long?”
“Four to five hours at least I’m guessing, and that’s if you know what you are doing. There are several steps to making the dumplings,” she explained. “And some special tools, like Clootie bags and a bamboree pot.”
Disappointment flashed through Ben and his determination wavered. “How can any dish take five hours or more to create? Unless it’s roasting a turkey or something. And that’s not much work, ye just stick the bird in the oven and the oven takes care of the rest,” he replied.
It was Poppy’s turn to stare. Finally, she spoke. “Well, there is the matter of whether or not to stuff the turkey, the type of stuffing to use, the proper herbs, oils or butters to grease the bird with, the intermittent basting to produce that nice browned skin on the outside, and timing it to come out just as you are finishing up the other dishes. There is a bit more involved than just putting it in a pan and leaving it to the oven to take care of it.”
Ben flushed and then sighed. “I had no idea there was so much involved in cooking.”
“Could I make a suggestion?”
“Aye, please do.”
“Why don’t we start with something simple like crockpot dishes? Since you and Dottie both work, crockpot meals are easy preparation and can be ready to eat at the end of the day.”
Ben nodded. “Dottie does a stew now and then, but it’s no my favorite type of dish. Too bland.”
Poppy blinked. “Doesn’t she use spices in it?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. She did once in the Habanero Roast Lamb, but I told her that was one dish she didn’t need to fix again.” He shuddered at the memory.
“Sounds like she got a bit carried away with the spice that time. If you like lamb stew, we could try it again with the right pepper proportions. You might enjoy it this time around.”
Ben frowned. “It might not be a good idea to prepare a dish she didn’t do well with,” he finally replied, rubbing his neck. How about I just watch ye prepare what ye are having fer dinner tonight? I can ask questions and take notes fer today.”
“I’m making meatloaf for tonight, with mashed potatoes and gravy.”
“That sounds fine,” he replied in relief.
Poppy nodded. “If you really want to make Clootie dumplings, let’s wait until it’s closer to Christmas. Angus says he has more free time as the holidays get closer, so maybe you do too.”
“I want to keep this secret from Dottie, but aye, I’d like to do that. If they turn out well, I can bring them to the Neamh Christmas party and surprise her,” he added enthusiastically. “Do I need to get the clootie bags and a bamboree pot? What about ingredients?”
Poppy laughed. “No, I have everything we need. I was going to make some for the Sangster family dinner anyway.”
Ben picked up his coffee cup and drank the last swallow as he stood up. “Okay, so how do we make meatloaf? I brought a notepad and a pencil; I’ll get them from my coat.”
Poppy stood up. “Right, let’s get it going. We’re wasting daylight, as my ex used to say.”
After retrieving his pen and notepad, Ben spent the next 20 minutes taking notes, watching Poppy mix eggs, sauces, crackers, and other things into a bowl with a pound of hamburger. Then she squished it all between her fingers until it was thoroughly mixed into a nice loaf shape to put in the loaf pan. Then it was his turn to make a second loaf.
“I’m supposed to put my hands in that?” he asked in distaste, pointing to the eggs on top of the meat mound.
Poppy’s eyes twinkled. “Ye are the one who wanted to learn how to make it. Wash your hands and get to it. Do everything you saw me do.”
“Not sure I’ll ever make this recipe again,” he muttered, pushing his sleeves up to wash his hands. “I can put everything together in the bowl, but putting my hands in it is over the top nasty.”
“You can always invest 900 pounds in a KitchenAid mixer to do all your mixing for you,” she replied with a derisive snort.
His eyes bugged. “900 pounds?” He grabbed the kitchen towel she handed him. “That’s not going to happen.”
“It’s the dream machine of every woman who loves to cook,” she teased him. “But you can get cheaper versions of almost the same thing and still make a girl happy.”
“There’s a mixed blessing in my case,” he replied ruefully. Then he brightened. “I can always get Dottie to do the mixing part fer me.”
Poppy’s eyebrows rose. “Let me know how that works out for you.”
They both laughed and Ben finally dug his hands into the bowl while scrunching his face in distaste. He kept his eyes squinted to partially avoid looking at it. Finally, he had a loaf in his hands that was holding together. It wasn’t as smooth as Poppy’s but he placed it carefully in the other loaf pan.
“Nice job,” Poppy complimented him. “Now we put some flour sack cloths over it and then put it in the fridge until we are ready to cook it. You want to time it so it gets done about the time your spouse is going to be home for dinner. And you make your mashed potatoes and other sides to coincide with that time so everything will be piping hot and ready to eat.”
“What if they don’t make it home at the usual time?”
“Then you understand why your wife, or husband, gets mad because you didn’t,” she said with a laugh.
Ben grinned and rubbed his neck. That made sense now that he was getting insider information. “It sounds like I have a lot to learn,” he confessed.
“Only if you really want to get into cooking. There are always short cuts. Box mixes, meat helpers, things like that to shorten your cooking time for a meal. They aren’t as good, but they are edible.”
“Aye. I’ve seen Dottie use box mixes fer brownies or cookies sometimes.”
“That works,” Poppy agreed. “Some box mixes aren’t bad; they just aren’t as good as the real thing most of the time.”
A sudden thought occurred to him. “How long does it take to make lasagna?”
“That depends. If you use the noodles that you don’t have to cook first, it can shorten your time,” she replied. “But usually, a couple of hours altogether. And then the clean-up of course. The sauces and ricotta cheese and such can be messy when it comes to putting it all together. And then depending on the size of your pan, it cooks covered for 45 minutes to an hour, and uncovered for 15 minutes to brown.”
“So, it’s quite an undertaking then,” he replied thoughtfully. Where had Dottie found the time? And when had she prepared it? He hadn’t seen any evidence of anything going on. In fact, he didn’t even know she’d made anything for Neamh until he’d seen the pans on the counter. Had she made it at Neamh? Oh well, it didn’t really matter. She made it and that was that.
“Dottie went to a lot of trouble to come up with those two pans. I’m really proud of her,” he added.
“You should be, that’s a heavenly recipe.”
Ben glanced at his watch. “I have to run, but thank ye, Poppy. I’ll let ye know when I can come to make the Clootie Dumplings fer sure and try to get a few more lessons in basic food prep between now and Christmas. I really appreciate it.”
Poppy followed him into the living room. “Anytime, Ben. I think what you are doing is very sweet. I’m sure Dottie will be surprised and pleased.”
“Just remember, it’s our secret,” he replied with a grin.
“Right, our secret. Wait...can I tell Angus?”
He shot her a look of horror. “Absolutely not! Dad will have a pool going to see how long it takes me to quit. And several pools on whether or not the Clootie Dumplings are edible, whether I can manage to make a decent meal, and what happens when Dottie finds out. The list goes on. Everyone but Dottie will know what’s going on, and I’ll never live it down between now and Christmas,” he growled.
Poppy started laughing until tears formed in her eyes. “I guess you are right, I didn’t think of that. Okay, our secret.”
He fist-bumped her and let himself out the door. First, he would figure out how to do some of this cooking stuff, then he’d decide which dishes were worth the effort and what tools he needed to simplify. Mostly, he wanted to do the dumplings for Dottie.
But what had he gotten himself into?