The rich aroma failed to have the effect she’d hoped for, doing nothing to ease the tension knotting her stomach. Staring down at the rows of perfectly formed muffin tops, she sighed.Normally, this was her favorite time of day. Normally, the smells of her kitchen soothed her. The house was quiet, her guests snug in the beds she’d made for them. She loved that feeling, knowing that her house was full of people for whom she’d made a home away from their own homes. It was what she’d always dreamed of, a real home, the kind she hadn’t had growing up, and she loved giving that feeling to others.Except most of the people in her house this morning weren’t her normal guests. They were reporters in town because of Richard Bridges.Richard Bridges, damn him to hell.She nearly slammed the tray of muffins down on the counter, barely managing to restrain herself at the last moment.Reining in the response took some effort, and her hands were shaking as she carefully set down the tray. She took another deep breath, this time to calm herself.
