The Millionaire's Club: Connor, Tom & Gavin. Michelle Celmer

      “I told her that in my heart I’m still married to your momma, and I made a vow to be faithful to her.”

      Nita winced. That one had to sting. To be rejected for the ghost of a marriage long since dissolved. “Daddy, Momma’s been gone almost twenty years. She would want you to be happy.”

      “I am happy. I have you and Rose and I have the farm. I don’t need a woman to complete me.”

      Nita sighed. There was no reasoning with him now. Poor Jane had to be devastated. To wait so long to speak her mind only to have her feelings shot down. No wonder she’d left. And Nita would miss her something fierce if she couldn’t convince her to come back.

      Jane had been around for so long Nita couldn’t even imagine life without her. She’d cooked and cleaned and made sure the house ran like a greased wheel, had taken care of them all when they were sick. She’d been the female confidant Nita and her sister Rose had needed growing up. Jane had taken them shopping to buy their first bras, explained about periods and womanhood when the time came. But she’d never once overstepped her bounds and tried to take their mother’s place.

      She’d been like a wife to Will in every way besides the bedroom. They played hours of Gin Rummy, watched movies together and bought each other special gifts for Christmas and birthdays. And Nita suspected that deep down, though he wouldn’t admit, he loved Jane, too.

      After all these years, Nita didn’t understand how he could let her go without a fight.

      “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Will said. “What’s done is done. Tomorrow you can go into town and pick up a paper. We’ll look in the classifieds and find a new housekeeper.”

      “Whatever you say.” Nita patted his arm. Let him think it was resolved. Little did he know, the discussion was far from over.

      “I think I should come home for a while.”

      “Rose, there’s nothing you can do here.” Nita cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder while she removed a pan of charred potatoes from the stove and dumped it in the sink.

      “With Daddy down and Jane gone things are bound to get crazy around there,” her sister said. “I can help.”

      Nita ran cold water in the pan to stop it from smoking. Instead it sizzled and snapped and sprayed grease all over the sink and counter. Whoops.

      She waved away the cloud of steam that billowed up in her face. “We’re doing fine,” she lied. “I can handle things.”

      Jane had only been gone three days and the entire house had fallen apart. Dirty clothes overflowed from the laundry room, dishes from yesterday’s breakfast were still stacked on the kitchen counter, and once again she’d annihilated dinner. One more night without a decent meal and the hands were going to up and quit on her.

      “I’m worried about you. I’ll feel better if I’m in Royal.”

      It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see Rose, and God knows she could use the help, but Nita knew her sister preferred the city. She would go stir-crazy being on the farm. Nita would never ask her to compromise her happiness by coming home.

      “Rose, you don’t have to do that.”

      Connor walked up behind her and looked over her shoulder into the sink, one eyebrow lifted. He’d just showered and put on fresh clothes and, boy, did he smell good. Like fabric softener and some kind of masculine soap.

      “It’s been ages since I’ve visited,” her sister said. “I miss you guys.”

      “And you’ll be here next month for Thanksgiving.” Nita might have been imaging it, but she swore she heard sadness in her sister’s voice and wondered if there was something wrong, something Rose wasn’t telling her. Rose always had been the type to hold things inside, while Nita let the entire world know what was eating her. “Unless you need to come home now.”

      “Of course I don’t need to. I just thought you could use the help.”

      “Nope, I’ve got things under control.”

      “Well, if you want me to come, don’t hesitate to call.”

      They said their goodbyes and Nita hung up the phone.

      “You’ve got things under control, huh?” Connor said.

      She shot him a scathing look, even though she knew from the grin on his face, he was only teasing her. “Oh, be quiet.”

      “What was that?” he asked, nodding toward sink. “I smelled it all the way upstairs.”

      “Potatoes. I guess I had the heat in the pan too high. I was trying to cook them fast to catch up with the chicken.”

      “I don’t think it works that way.”

      “I guess not. At least we’ll have the chicken.” He looked around the kitchen. “Where is it?”

      “I left it in the oven so it’ll stay warm.”

      “I hope you turned the temperature down.”

      “Of course I did,” she snapped. At least, she’d meant to. They simultaneously turned to look at the display on the stove.

      “See,” she said smugly. “It’s on low. As in, not too hot.” Connor didn’t look impressed by her stroke of genius. “I’m no gourmet, but on my stove the broiler settings are high and low and the regular oven is by temperature.”

      Her heart slid south into her belly. There was no way she could have ruined another entire meal.

      She yanked open the oven door and smoke rolled out to join the cloud already hanging in the air from the potatoes. “Oh no!”

      Connor grabbed an oven mitt, pulled the pan out and set it on the stove. The chicken was completely charred on one side and still smoking. “One side is okay…sort of. Maybe if you cut off the burned part?”

      He had every right to be smug about it, but he wasn’t, and, although she appreciated his encouragement, they both knew she couldn’t serve chicken this burned to the men. They would accuse her of trying to poison them.

      It wouldn’t be the first time that week.

      “Dump it,” she said. She grabbed a newspaper from the kitchen counter and waved the smoke toward the open kitchen window. “I just wasn’t meant to be in a kitchen. I think I was born without the cooking gene.”

      Connor dumped the chicken in the sink with the potatoes and set the pan back on the stove. “I have an idea.”

      “What idea?”

      He pulled his cell phone out and dialed.

      “Who are you calling?” Please let it be someone who knew how to cook.

      “It’s chili night at the Royal Diner.”

      Nita felt herself begin to salivate. Manny’s chili was the best in Royal—hell, probably the entire state of Texas. But what about the men? They had to eat, too.

      When Manny answered, Connor ordered chili with all the fixings. Enough to feed everyone, saving her from an inevitable mutiny. It wasn’t the first time he’d saved her butt the past couple of days. She owed him big time, and could think of a couple of fun, mutually gratifying ways to pay him back.

      They drove into town together to pick up the food, then after dinner he helped her clean the kitchen until it was spotless. He even did a couple of loads of laundry for her since he knew how and she was in no mood to mop up a flood.

      Later, after Nita got her daddy settled in his suite and was on her way upstairs to get ready for bed, she realized she’d ruined dinner three nights in a row, fed him sandwiches for lunch and cold cereal for breakfast, yet Connor hadn’t uttered a word of complaint. He’d even insisted on paying for dinner tonight.

      He