She looked into Jake’s eyes, unable to read his expression. It seemed distant, almost disconnected. Then he surprised her by saying, his voice soft, “It didn’t turn out like either of us expected, did it?”

Regret? It wasn’t an emotion she’d expected from him, and as soon as she recognized it, it was gone. Completely gone. His face was a mask again.

But she hadn’t imagined it. “No, it didn’t,” she said.

She stepped toward the doorway, keeping as far away from Jake as possible. It was easier that way.

As she crossed the threshold the warm scents of baking assailed her. Her mouth watered instantly. It had been so long since she’d smelled that rich, buttery smell...

Jake shut the door firmly behind them. “Irma must have made those fancy cookies you like so much.” His voice was cool.

“They’re called madeleines,” she said, shrugging out of her new down parka, “and they’re tea cakes, not cookies.”

Taylor glanced around as she hung her parka on the coat tree. Through an archway she could see the living room, with its polished wood floor and solid leather furniture, arranged exactly as she remembered. The fire crackling in the big stone hearth made it seem particularly cozy and inviting.

On the other side of the entrance hall lay the dining room. She peeked around the corner at it. A sturdy iron candelabra still sat in the center of the massive wooden table, matching the sconces that lined the walls.

The inside of the house seemed very much the same. Familiar, almost. Taylor felt a fleeting, inexplicable sense of homecoming.

She quickly dismissed it. She didn’t even like it here. Her feelings about the place were not positive. Her dreams had been dashed here. Her life had come apart. Obviously it was only the comparison to her apartment that made it seem so wonderful.

Irma appeared in the hallway, wiping her hands on her apron. “Taylor!” She hurried over for a hug and a kiss, then stepped back to survey her. “You’re skin and bones, girl. I’ll have to fatten you up.”

“You do that,” Jake said. “I’ll take Taylor’s suitcase upstairs.” He seemed as eager to get away from her as she was from him.

Taylor followed the middle-aged housekeeper back to the kitchen.

“I know why you’re here,” Irma said, sitting her down at the small round table in the corner. “Jake explained it to Orville and me.” Irma’s husband Orville cooked for the ranch hands. “We don’t like it, but maybe you two can find a way to settle your differences. This place ain’t the same without you.”

Taylor laughed as lightly as she could. She didn’t want to disappoint the other woman by saying that a reconciliation was impossible. “Right. This place is cleaner without me, anyway.”

“So what? It’s emptier, too, and that’s what counts.” Irma set a glass of milk and a plate of shell-shaped madeleines before her, then took a seat.

Taylor savored a madeleine in unspeakable bliss. They’d been her favorite treat ever since she’d been a little girl.

“Jake’s been an ornery son of a buck,” Irma confided. “The man hasn’t smiled more than twice since you left. He’s always grouchy and complaining. No fun to be around. I almost quit three times last fall.”

Jake had been upset? Why? she wondered. Because she’d wounded his pride when she’d left him, or because he’d made such a mistake in marrying her?

The two women talked for a few minutes before Jake appeared in the doorway. Taylor wiped the feather-light madeleine crumbs from her lips and stood.

“I guess I should unpack,” she said.

Jake led her upstairs to the largest guest room, which sat at the opposite end of the house from the master suite. It was nicely decorated, with antique furniture and a handmade quilt on the queen-size bed, but its pleasant temperature meant more to her than its appearance.

Living in a cold apartment had been one of the hardest lessons Taylor had faced in the past five months. Until then she’d always taken her physical comfort for granted. But since November, turning up the heat would have meant not being able to pay the electric bill.

Jake crossed to her suitcase, which sat on a folding luggage rack. He popped open the latches. “Let’s get your stuff put away.” He transferred a couple of the new shirts he’d bought her yesterday to one of the dressers. “See if you can’t keep the room clean while you’re here, okay? Drawers closed, bed made. If Hankins happens to wander upstairs, I don’t want him to guess you’re staying in here. It wouldn’t look good.”

She pulled out a few items and stored them in a drawer. “I thought he was just coming to dinner a couple of times.”

“That’s all we’ve got planned. But the Hankins’s place hasn’t been a working ranch in a long time, and his cabin’s pretty rustic. I expect he and those kids will come visit a lot.”

“Oh.”

“Plus, it can get boring here in wintertime.” Jake shot her a pointed look. “Even more boring than in the summer. Neighborly visits help lessen that.”

After the way Jake had ignored her last summer, working all day in order to avoid her, he shouldn’t be talking about the benefits of neighborly visits, she thought.