I’m wounded.” Boone sipped morning coffee and peered over the cup’s rim at Lucy. There were certainly worse ways to start the day than sitting across from her. “There were a lot of presents there,” she reminded him, but her cheeks were pink. “I’ve never had so many. Even Kelly gave me a picture frame.” He liked that he could make her blush. That was probably another segue back into pubescence, but he could live with it. “What’s for lunch today?” he asked. “Chicken divan, which Gert’s cooking. I’m doing the salads, some of the contents of which I’m going to go pull out of the garden. Pumpernickel or wheat bread. Angel food cake and fresh strawberries or ice cream for dessert. We picked the strawberries, but bought the ice cream.” He nodded at the tall angel food cakes under glass domes on the counter. “So when are you going to start baking your own bread?”
