We couldn’t afford any of that ready-to-eat stuff.” “I did all the cooking before my mother died. Where did you learn to cook?”Ībby gave a small shrug. “Better than okay.” He spoke around a full mouth. “I made some fried apple pies for desert. “Thanks.” She took the chair across from him and filled her own plate. Tate went right to the table and sat down, helping himself to the spaghetti, salad and garlic bread. She’d handle it when it was time, one way or the other. She had almost nine months to worry about it and there wasn’t much she could do now, anyway. A small sigh escaped her as they went up the steps. Surely he hadn’t meant he was going to help her raise the baby. Why had he shown her the birds? Was there supposed to be a message in there somewhere? If so, she wasn’t sure she’d gotten it. I’m starved.”Ībby studied his back as she followed him the rest of the way to the house. Both parents raise the young.” He dropped his hand. Every spring they show up and use the same nest.” Tate was close enough that she could actually feel him laugh.
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