She skirted around the little patch of herbs he was thinking of expanding into a full kitchen garden. The wind had whipped color into her face, so when she lifted her head and caught his eye, her cheeks were rosy.

“Good day to you, Mary Brenna. If you’re out for a walk with your dog, it seems she’s had enough of it. She’s already sitting under my table here, and Bub’s ignoring her as if she isn’t worth his time.”

“She’s the one who wanted to walk with me.”

“Sure, and if you walked now and then instead of marching as you do, she might stay along with you longer. Come in out of the wind.” He started to move back as she stepped on the back stoop, then paused, sniffed. Smiled. “You smell of flowers and axle grease or some such thing.”

“It’s motor oil, and what’s left of the perfume Alice Mae caught me with this morning.”

“It’s quite the combination.” And very Brenna O’Toole, he thought as she strode past him. “Will you have some tea?”

“I will.” She peeled off her jacket, tossed it on a peg, then belatedly remembered her cap and removed that as well.

It always gave him a little jerk in the belly to watch all that hair spill out and down. Foolish, he thought as he moved to the pot. He knew it was up there, under that ugly cap. But each time she let it fall, it was a new surprise.

“I’ve scones.”

“No, but thanks.” She wanted to clear her throat, as it seemed coated with something thick and hot. Instead she sat at the table, casually kicked back. She’d decided as she’d walked over to ease her way into things, so to speak. “I wondered if you might want me to take a look at your car sometime this week. The last I heard it, it sounded sad.”

“I wouldn’t mind, if you’ve time.” He watched as Bub sidled over to rub against Brenna’s legs, then leap into her lap. The O’Toole was the only human person the cat had ever fancied. Shawn decided it was because they were both prickly creatures.

“Aren’t you busy at the house, doing the baby’s room for Jude?”

She stroked Bub’s head so he purred like a freight train. “I’ve time enough.”

He sat across from Brenna, and when Betty came begging, gave her half a scone. “How’s it coming, then?” And decided it was comfortable after all, sitting with her in the warm kitchen, with the animals milling about.

“Oh, it’s fine. It’s mostly just fiddling Jude wants, prettying up and the like. But in the way of women, now she’s thinking that when the one room’s fixed and polished, the others will look shabby against it. She’s thinking to spruce up the main bedroom now.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

Brenna lifted her shoulders. “Nothing I can see, but between Jude and Darcy they’ve come up with a dozen things. New paper for the walls, fresh paint for the trim, sanding the floors. Then I just mentioned how nice the view was from the front windows there, and Jude’s saying that she longs for a window seat. I said if she wanted one, it was just a matter of this and a matter of that, and before you can blink, she’s wanting me to do it.”