Page 13 of Jensen

She’s uncomfortable, but she points me down the hall. I go, in awe of the size of this great house. The ceilings are so high, they seem like a waste of space. The walls are off white, and Caudill portraits hang along the wall. Fresh flowers sit here and there, clean and curated, not like the wildflowers at home.

The kitchen is empty, but I can smell food. There’s a linen apron over the chair. I grab it, wrapping the strings around my waist. Mouth watering, I start going through the freezer until I find what I’m looking for—a ham bone for broth. There’s dried beans in the cupboard, along with cornbread mix and, shockingly, cracklings. I pick through the beans while the water boils, no time to soak them.

My mouth is watering. I need that fucking bread with soup, or I’m going to rip somebody’s head off.

The side door bangs open. I glance up as a pretty woman with wavy brown hair and big eyes swishes inside. It’s hard to tell, but we look about the same age. She’s in a skintight mint dress and matching heels. Her eyes fall on me. She hesitates, then she smiles. I know her type—upper class Lexington, spray tanned, lots of makeup perfectly contouring her pretty face. I balk, feeling like I’m about to get judged for my appearance.

“Hey, Della,” she says.

I hesitate.

“I’m Kayleigh,” she says, sitting at the table. “Leland’s cousin.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I manage. “I met so many people yesterday, I’m a bit turned around.”

She gives me the most genuine smile I’ve seen in weeks. Before she can speak, I hear footsteps coming down the hall. I know who it is before I see my husband. Turning my back, I pour the beans in the water and reach for an onion. The door bursts open, and the footsteps stop short. I glance sideways for a second, and I swear, I see Kayleigh roll her eyes.

“Della.”

I turn. Leland stands by the table in a dove gray suit. His eyes rake over me. For the first time since I got pregnant, I’m not hiding my growing stomach. He’s looking at it, poking out under the apron, and he’s proud of it, I can tell.

“What are you doing in the kitchen?” he asks.

I blink. “Making food. I have a craving.”

He glances around the room. Kayleigh is eating cookies out of a tin, watching him like she just scraped him off her designer shoe.

“Have the maid cook for you or order something to the house,” he says. “Why are you barefoot?”

I look down. Why do I need shoes? I’m not going anywhere. Kayleigh takes a bite of butter cookie and dusts off her fingers, mint nails flashing.

“How about you shut the fuck up, Leland?” she says. “Nobody asked your opinion, and they probably never will if they know what the fuck is good for them.”

My jaw drops. Instantly, I change my opinion of Kayleigh. She’s got some spice to her, and I like it.

“Why are you even here?” Leland snaps, going red.

“I was dropping some paperwork off,” she says, jumping to her feet. “Paxton sent me. He’s hungover from staying up all night after the reception.”

“Well, show yourself out,” he says.

She tosses her waves, sashaying to the door. Before she disappears, she flips Leland off behind his back and winks at me. I bite my lip so I don’t giggle in front of him. That’s all it takes for me to decide I like Kayleigh a lot.

The door shuts. He comes close, looking over my shoulder. “What are you making?”

I look up, giving him big, pleading eyes. They usually work. “Cracklin’ bread with soup over it.”

He stares down at the beans and bone simmering in the pot, and a crease appears on his forehead. “You’re not supposed to cook. We have people for that. And I expect to see you dressed every morning.”

“I’m dressed,” I say.

“No, dressed up like Kayleigh,” he insists. “I’ll have your stylist come in this week and build you a wardrobe. You need to be pulled together. We have people coming in and out of the house for business most days. You are the matriarch of this family now.”

I feel the emotion behind those words. It hurt him when his mother passed. I’ve got big shoes to fill. Quickly, I dip my head, and he takes my chin, lifting it back up.

“Understand, darling?” he asks.

I nod, sniffing. “Sorry. I’m not trying to embarrass you. I’ve been throwing up, and this is the only thing I wanted to eat.”