She moved her foot and he removed his hand, murmuring ‘Sorry.’ ‘Poor man,’ she told him gently, even as her heart hammered against her ribcage. ‘You’re missing your late wife. Do I remind you of her?’ ‘Not at all and that’s the funny part,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Elaine was calm and peaceful and never raised her voice. You’re a worrywart and a manager and not precisely shy about ordering me around.’ He grinned at her. ‘You remind me of a little rat terrier Dan Duncan used to own. Tenacious little thing.’ ‘Oh, horrors, then, you’ve lost your mind,’ she joked. ‘Do I look like Elaine at least? I know you’re homesick.’ He shook his head again. ‘I can’t imagine two more different people, in temperament and looks. She had curly blonde hair and was short and round. Sorry, Gracie, but kneading bread has given you quite a set of shoulders and we nearly see eye to eye. Of course, you have the trimmest waist I’ve ever seen.’ ‘And my hair is straighter than a market road and my eyes are brown,’ she concluded, her face rosy.
