nodded. “Yes, please.”
Lifting the delicate old teapot gingerly, she filled Alyssa’s teacup with steaming water and then pushed a doily-lined wicker basket filled with assorted teas across the table to her.
“You were so tired last night,” Myrna said as she dipped her tea bag up in down in her tea water, “that we decided not to bombard you with questions about yourself.”
“There’s not much to tell,” Alyssa said as she perused her choices, selecting an apple-cinnamon tea. “I was born and raised by a single mother in Waco. No brothers or sisters. I never knew my father.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Doris said with an empathetic frown.
Alyssa forced a smile. “Can’t miss what you never had,” she said. “After graduating from Baylor, I was offered a job with a large interior design firm down in San Antonio. So I packed up and moved south to begin my new life.”
“Have you ever been on TV?” Doris asked as she spooned two heaping teaspoons of sugar into her cup.
Alyssa was thrown by the unexpected question. “TV?”
“You know,” Myrna joined in. “On one of those home makeover shows you see all over television these days. You’re sure pretty enough to be a TV star. Isn’t she, Doris?”
Her sister nodded, the beehive of hair piled atop her head shifting to and fro. “I could see her starring in one of those cooking shows, looking all pretty in her ruffled apron.”
Alyssa laughed softly. These two women were so endearing. “I’m afraid cooking is not my forte.”
“All you really need to know how to make is sweets,” Doris noted as she sipped at her tea. “My beloved Henry, God rest his soul, was especially fond of my sister’s county-fair-winning apple-pecan cobbler.” Her gaze drifted off and a soft smile lit her face. “That man had quite the sweet tooth.”
“Most men do,” Myrna said. “Nathan Cooper included. Just ask Millie.”
“She’s a close family friend,” Myrna explained. “Always baking up sweets for those Cooper boys.”
“Nathan... I mean Mr. Cooper,” Alyssa quickly corrected, “has sons, too?”
“No, only Katie,” Myrna clarified. “My sister was referring to Nathan and his two younger brothers, Carter and Logan. Big and strong, those boys. Some of the heartiest stock Texas produces.”
“Like three peas in a pod,” Myrna told her. “All with that same dark, wavy hair and bright blue eyes. Just like their daddy had. Real lookers, those Cooper boys.”
If his brothers had even a smidgen of Nathan Cooper’s good looks and charm, she could understand why even women old enough to be the men’s grandmothers were smitten with them.
* * *
Huddled beneath the hood of her jacket, Alyssa quickened her step. The previous night’s rain had left the earth damp and the air chilled. She should have thought to bring gloves with her when she packed for the trip. It would have made the long walk from the boardinghouse to the opposite end of town far more tolerable.
The moment she saw the large Cooper Construction sign flanking the front sidewalk of what had to be the town’s new rec center, relief swept through her.
Picking up her step, she hurried toward the entrance. The warmth that greeted her when she stepped inside was a welcome respite from the chill outside. Pulling the door closed behind her, she brought her hands to her mouth, breathing warmth onto her very cold, very stiff fingers.
“You walked here?” a deep, familiar voice demanded behind her.
Startled, she turned to find Nathan Cooper watching her from a nearby doorway. Frown still intact. “How else was I supposed to get here?” she asked in her own defense. “Taxis don’t exactly line the streets of Braxton.”
“I could have given you a ride.”
“The walk wasn’t that bad.”
“I suppose the tinge of blue in your lips is some sort of newfangled lipstick color?”
“They’re blue?” she gasped, her chilled fingers flying to her lips.
“Close enough,” he said as he joined her in what would, once finished, be the lobby area. His narrowed gaze traveled over her, then with a shake of his head he said, “Come on,” motioning for her to follow him down a long hallway.
“Where are we going?” she asked as she unzipped her jacket.
“There’s a space heater in the next room. You can warm up some before you get started doing whatever it is you do.”
“That would be nice,” she said, following him. It was all she could do to keep up with his long strides.
He pointed to an open doorway. “You can warm up in there.” That said, he disappeared into another of the rooms that lined the hallway.
“Thank you,” she called out after him. Then she stepped into the room he’d directed her to where several men were busily at work. One by one the sounds of hammers and drills stopped and she felt more than saw their gazes shift her way. Lifting her hand, she offered a nervous smile, hoping their dispositions would be a tad more welcoming than Nathan Cooper’s had been. “Hello.”
A man who had been running a nearby table saw walked over to where she stood by the door. He was wearing safety goggles, his dark, wavy hair brushing over the top of them. His height caused her to crane her neck as he stopped in front of her.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m Alyssa McCall.”
Shoving the safety goggles off his face and onto his head, he studied her with a widening grin. “The interior designer?”
“That’s what I have my degree in, but I also teach art classes to children at a recreation center in San Antonio, which is where I’m from. It’s a job I enjoy immensely.”
His gaze moved over her in an assessing manner. “When my brother told me you’d be joining us sometime this morning, he conveniently left off the part about your being...”
“My being what?”
He glanced toward the other workers before saying, his voice low, “Not old.”
She stiffened at his response. “I can assure you I have plenty of design experience.”
“I’m not doubting your skill,” he said apologetically. “Let’s try this again.” Pulling off his leather work gloves, he extended a hand. “Carter Cooper. Co-owner of Cooper Construction. Welcome to the crew.”
She took the offered hand. “Thank you.”
His dark brow lifted. “Your hand’s as cold as ice.”
“I know. The walk here was a little chillier than I expected,” she admitted.
“You walked here from the boardinghouse? It’s clear on the other side of town.”
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his stunned reaction. The walk hadn’t been all that far. Not for someone who was used to walking nearly everywhere she went. The problem was having been underdressed for the inclement weather.
“I did,” she replied. “Your brother sent me in here to warm up by the space heater.”
“And here I am talking your ear off,” he muttered with a frown. “Back to work,” he hollered to the other workers. “Come on,” he told her. “The space heater’s over here.”
She trailed after him, grateful when she felt the warmth from the portable heater start to curl around her. “So what exactly did your brother tell you about my being here?” she asked as she leaned in, shoving her hands closer to the