“I’d planned to make enchiladas for your homecoming, but I didn’t have time.” Leah tied an apron over her suit. “Thank goodness, I’d already put the beans to soaking for chili. The recipe makes plenty.”

Clay followed her into the kitchen, eyes almost closed. “You have no idea how good that smells after almost two years of Army cooking.”

“Please have a seat.” Leah took out two hot pads and laid them on the table. “It’ll only be a minute while I set the table.”

“Let me help then.”

“All right. Thank you.” She pulled a pan of cornbread from the oven, where it had been keeping warm. “The plates and bowls are in the cupboard.”

While she brought out the chili and cornbread, Clay laid out the dinnerware. As they passed each other and worked together, it reminded her of the sweet domestic camaraderie at the Bellamy home. But this was her home. And her husband.

Leah’s middle clenched. Not for long.

Clay set out silverware and nodded to the radio on the kitchen table. “I recognize that.”

Because it was his, not hers. “You ought to take it with you.”

“To the barracks? No place for it there.” Then he glanced to the bookshelf and grinned. “Is that my violin?”

“Your parents brought a lot of your things.”

He crossed the room and opened the case. “I haven’t played in ages.”

“I loved how you used to play for me in the hospital.”

His gaze turned to her, so warm and personal, she couldn’t breathe. “I could play for you tonight, if you’d like.”

Oh, she’d like that very much. “Helen would love that. You ought to see. She bounces to the music on the radio. She’s very fond of the Andrews Sisters.”

“Is that so, baby girl?” Clay squatted beside the playpen with his violin in hand. “Wait till you hear the Paxton brothers.”

“Oh?” Leah surveyed the table. If only she had butter for the cornbread, but she’d used her red ration points for lard to make refried beans for the enchilada dinner. “Do the Paxton brothers sing together?”

“We called ourselves the Gringo Mariachis.” Clay stood and put his violin under his chin. “We sang, we played, we broke hearts all across Texas.”

Leah untied her apron and slipped it over her head. If Wyatt and Adler were half as appealing as Clay, they’d broken many a heart.

Clay drew the bow across the strings in a discordant tone, and he made a funny face. “Now I’m breaking eardrums all across Tennessee.”

Leah laughed. Had she ever seen him so . . . sunny? “Shall we eat?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll tune her up after dinner.” He put away the violin and sat at the table.

Clay said a heartfelt blessing over the food, then ate with gusto, praising her cooking and praising his mama for giving Leah the recipes and the spices.