A Match for the Doctor by Marie Ferrarella Read Free Book Online Page B

actually stirring. He saw carrot shavings on the cutting board as well as an opened wrapper that told him she’d pressed a whole chicken into service for this undertaking. These ingredients didn’t just magically appear.
    â€œWe didn’t have any of this in the refrigerator,” he said, indicating the wrapper and the carrot shavings. He knew that for a fact. He’d opened the refrigerator this morning, looking for the tin of coffee in order to properly kick-start a day that had already promised to go badly. The only thing in the refrigerator besides coffee, and milk for the girls, was one leftover container of Chinese food from last night’s take-out dinner.
    â€œYes, I know,” she told him, opening a drawer as she searched for a spoon. It took her two more tries before she located any silverware. She needed to sample the results of her efforts. Salting the soup was always tricky. She didn’t want it to be bland, but she definitely didn’t want it to be oversalted, either.
    â€œYou bought all this?” It was a rhetorical question, but he was nonetheless surprised.
    She nodded, stirring the contents a little more. “It seemed easier than waiting for the supermarket fairy to make a drop.”
    He made no comment, other than to think that she obviously favored sarcasm. He took out his wallet and pulled out several bills. “How much do I owe you?”
    The ingredients had cost her little. She could certainlyafford to spring for the tab. She waved her hand at his question.
    â€œWhy don’t we see if Edna likes the soup first before we talk about owing anything,” she suggested.
    Opening the cupboard to the right of the stove, she found it all but bare. There were four dinner plates, four cups and four bowls all huddled together like the weary survivors of a shipwreck. Beyond that, there was nothing in the cupboards, not even dust.
    â€œHow long ago did you move in?” she asked him as she took down a bowl.
    â€œA week ago,” he told her, dispensing the information rather grudgingly.
    â€œWell, that explains why the house is so barren.” She placed the bowl on the counter beside the pot she was using. “How long before the moving van is supposed to get here?”
    This was exactly what he hadn’t wanted. A conversation. Other than being completely rude and ignoring her, he saw no option open to him but to answer her question.
    â€œIt isn’t.”
    She looked at him, confused. She couldn’t have heard right. “Excuse me?”
    â€œThere’s no moving van,” he said stoically. “At least not in the sense you mean. Some of the girls’ things are being shipped out and Edna has some things coming, as well.”
    When he had first mentioned leaving everything behind, putting a few things in storage while donating the rest of the things to charities, the girls had been so upset he’d given in. But if he’d had his way, everything that reminded him of Nancy would be gone, or at thevery least, stored out of sight until he could handle the memories. And the sorrow.
    â€œThe furniture is all going to be brand-new,” he informed her. “Which is where you come in.”
    â€œIf you don’t mind my asking, did you have a fire?” Kennon asked.
    His face appeared to close down. “No,” he replied flatly, “I didn’t.”
    If she was going to be of any use to this man, she needed to have the avenue of communication open, not sealed. He needed to talk to her.
    â€œThen why—”
    â€œAnd I do mind your asking,” he told her, answering what she’d assumed was the rhetorical portion of her question.
    It took Kennon a second to collect herself. “Okay. Then I won’t ask,” Kennon replied gamely, moving on. “When are you free?”
    It was his turn to look at her blankly. Just what was the woman asking him? “For what?”
    â€œTo come shopping