“No. Why?” “I’m warm.” She removed the hat and gloves the blustery day’s temperature had called for, set them on the nearby kitchen table then picked up Quinn. “Did you have fun exploring?” “Gaa! Baa!” “Well, that sounds interesting,” she teased. “How was your daughter?” Calder asked. “Wonderful.” She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, remembering her little girl’s smile. “I know that old saying about not wishing your life away, but in this case, I’d give anything for it to already be March.” “Is your hearing early March or late?” He picked up sofa cushions from the floor. “Early. What happened?” She nodded toward her pillaged couch. “Thought I might outsmart my Tasmanian devil by corralling him, but turns out he’s way smarter than me.” “I know the feeling.” She kissed the infant’s nose. “So where’s this fabulous meal you promised? I’m starving.” Walking the ten feet to the kitchen, she explored the stove and oven.
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