Once upon a Dream by Nora Roberts Page A

the richness of fabric and the brilliance of color that so suited his Kayleen.
    She would damn well leave them behind if he had any say in it.
    But she would want her photographs, and that lovely pier glass there, and that lamp. He began to set them in his mind, the shape and dimensions, the tone and texture. So deep was his concentration that he didn’t realize the image had changed until the woman crossed his vision.
    She walked through the rooms, her hands clasped tightly together. A lovely woman, he noted. Smaller thanKayleen, fuller at the breasts and hips, but with the same coloring. She wore her dark hair short, and it swung at her cheeks as she moved.
    Compelled, he opened the window wider and heard her speak.
    â€œOh, baby, where are you? Why haven’t you called? It’s almost a week. Why can’t we find you? Oh, Kayleen.” She picked up a photograph from a table, pressed it to her. “Please be all right. Please be okay.”
    With the picture hugged to her heart, she dropped into a chair and began to weep.
    Flynn slammed the window shut and turned away.
    He would not be moved. He would not.
    Time was almost up. In little more than twenty-four hours, the choice would be behind him. Behind them all.
    He closed his mind to a mother’s grief. But he wasn’t fully able to close his heart.
    His mood was edgy when he left the workroom. He meant to go outside, to walk it off. Perhaps to whistle up Dilis and ride it off. But he heard her singing.
    He’d never heard her sing before. A pretty voice, he thought, but it was the happiness in it that drew him back to the kitchen.
    She was stirring something on the stove, something in the big copper kettle that smelled beyond belief.
    It had been a very long time since he’d come into a kitchen where cooking was being done. But he was nearly certain that was what had just happened. Since it was almost too marvelous to believe, he decided to make sure of it.
    â€œKayleen, what are you about there?”
    â€œOh!” Her spoon clattered, fell out of her hand and plopped into the pot. “Damn it, Flynn! You startled me. Now look at that, I’ve drowned the spoon in the sauce.”
    â€œSauce?”
    â€œI thought I’d make spaghetti. You have a very unusual collection of ingredients in your kitchen. Peanut butter, pickled herring, enough chocolate to make an entire elementary school hyper for a month. However, I managed to find plenty of herbs, and some lovely ripe tomatoes, so this seemed the safest bet. Plus you have ten pounds of spaghetti pasta.”
    â€œKayleen, are you cooking for me?”
    â€œI know it must seem silly, as you can snap up a five-star meal for yourself without breaking a sweat. But there’s something to be said for home cooking. I’m a very good cook. I took lessons. Though I’ve never attempted to make sauce in quite such a pot, it should be fine.”
    â€œThe pot’s wrong?”
    â€œOh, well, I’d do better with my own cookware, but I think I’ve made do. You had plenty of fresh vegetables in your garden, so I—”
    â€œJust give me a few moments, won’t you? I’ll need a bit of time.”
    And before she could answer, he was gone.
    â€œWell.” She shook her head and went back to trying to save the spoon.
    She had everything under control again, had adjusted the heat to keep the sauce at low simmer, when a clatter behind her made her jolt. The spoon plopped back into the sauce.
    â€œOh, for heaven’s sake!” She turned around, then stumbled back. There was a pile of pots and pans on the counter beside her.
    â€œI replicated them,” Flynn said with a grin. “Which took me a little longer, but I didn’t want to argue with you about it. Then you might not feed me.”
    â€œMy pots!” She fell on them with the enthusiasm of a mother for lost children.
    More enthusiasm, Flynn realized as she chattered and held up