Someone tugged on her skirt. Jamie looked down.
“I’m not married,” Sam assured her, gazing seriously up at her.
Everyone in the room laughed, except Jamie, who didn’t want to hurt the boy’s feelings—and Trevor, she noted peripherally. “Still playing the field, are you, Sam? That’s understandable from a handsome young guy like you.”
Though he didn’t appear to quite understand Jamie’s comment, Sam seemed satisfied to have momentarily claimed her attention. He stood close to her side when she turned to greet the others. She wasn’t particularly surprised to see the police chief, Wade Davenport, and his wife, Emily. Emily was Caleb’s niece, and had been a year behind Jamie in school. She had been the only McBride of her generation who had stayed and settled in Honoria instead of moving on in search of greener pastures. Trevor, of course, was the only one who had returned after moving away—for reasons Jamie couldn’t help being curious about.
“How are you, Emily?” she asked.
Holding a baby no more than a few months old in her arms, the pretty, blue-eyed blonde beamed with visible contentment. “I’m fine, thank you, Jamie. You know my husband, Wade, of course?”
Jamie glanced at the solidly built, ruggedly attractive, thirty-something cop. “Hello, Chief. Caught any dangerous criminals lately?”
He gave her a lazy smile. “Not since I stopped you for speeding last week.”
Hearing what might have been a faint sigh from Trevor, Jamie pouted for effect. “I was only going five miles over the speed limit.”
“You were doing sixty in a forty-five zone and you know it,” Wade retorted. “I let you off easy by only citing you for five-miles-over. Next time, I won’t be so generous.”
“Wade, Jamie just saved my grandson’s life,” Caleb chided. “Is it really necessary to threaten her this evening?”
“It wasn’t a threat—just a warning.”
Jamie smiled and stuck out her hand to him. “Warning heeded. I’ll watch my speed from now on. And no hard feelings, Chief.”
“Of course not.” Wade shook her hand, then waved toward the red-haired lad sitting on the couch and playing a handheld electronic game. “This is my son, Clay. Boy, remember your manners, will you? Come shake hands with Ms. Flaherty.”
Clay Davenport, whom Jamie judged to be around eleven, somewhat reluctantly set the game aside and rose. “Hello, Ms. Flaherty,” he said, gravely shaking Jamie’s hand.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Clay.”
“Ms. Flaherty’s aunt was your fourth-grade teacher,” Wade informed his son.
Jamie’s smile deepened. “I think my aunt Ellen has taught every fourth-grader in Honoria for the past couple of generations.”
Clay shook his head. “My friend Pete had Mrs. Simmons.”
“She didn’t mean it literally, Clay,” Emily murmured, laying an affectionate hand on her stepson’s shoulder while cradling her infant daughter in her other arm. “How is your aunt, Jamie?”
“I talked to her yesterday. You know she and Uncle Bill are spending the summer in North Carolina? They love it there.”
“I’m happy to hear it. I understand she’s retiring after this coming school year.”
“Yes, they’re thinking about relocating permanently to a condo in North Carolina.”
“They’ll be missed here.”
Jamie was admiring baby Claire when Bobbie bustled into the room, immediately taking over with her brusque, authoritative manner. “Hello, Jamie. Glad you could make it. Dinner’s about ready. All I have to do is set everything out. Give me five minutes. Trevor, I think I heard Abbie fussing.”
Trevor nodded and moved toward the doorway. “I was just about to go check on her.”
“I’ll help you get dinner on the table, Aunt Bobbie,” Emily offered, handing the baby to her husband.
Jamie stepped forward. “Is there anything I can do?”
Bobbie shook her h
ead. “Thank you, dear, but you’re our guest this evening. Visit with the men for a few minutes and we’ll call everyone when it’s time to eat.”