“I’ve been gone more than ten years, so that explains it. He’s beautiful.” She stroked the dog’s blond fur. “He’s part Lab. What’s the rest?”

“Great Pyrenees,” Jackson answered. “Makes for a good watchdog, but the mix also makes for a big old teddy bear. The only time he gives me much trouble is when I take him to the vet. He whines the whole way and looks up at me so pitiful that I hate to make him go in for his shots.”

“My dream job would be to work for a vet,” April said. “I loved working in greenhouses, but to be around animals all day would be even better. We had Waylon back when I was growing up, but Nanny Lucy wouldn’t let me have any other pets. Waylon was here to catch mice, not to be a pet. Dinner should be about ready, so come on in the house.” She bent forward and whispered to Tex, “I’ll bring out scraps for you if you’ll hang around on the porch.”

“You’ve made a friend for life,” Jackson chuckled, and he followed April into the house. His stomach growled when the aroma of fresh-baked bread and cinnamon rushed out to meet him. “Something sure smells good in here.”

“Come on in,” Nessa called out from the kitchen. “I’m putting it on the table right now.”

“Anything I can do to help, and is it all right if I wash my hands in the kitchen sink?” Jackson asked.

“We’ve got it covered.” Flynn carried a basket of hot rolls to the table.

“And yes, feel free to wash up at the sink,” April said. “I’ll get the dog smell off my hands in the bathroom.”

Jackson had washed his hands in the kitchen sink dozens of times over the past years, but today he seemed to be clumsy, bumping into Nessa three times. Once when she passed by him on the way to the table with a bowl of corn in her hands, again when he reached for a towel, and then again when she took a platter of meat, potatoes, and carrots across the tiny galley kitchen to the dining area.

Jackson had had a few dates since he’d moved to Blossom, but nothing had caused the sparks and electricity to fly like they did when he brushed against Nessa O’Riley.

That’s downright crazy, he thought. She’s not my type.

And that is? Miz Lucy asked.