Secret Hollows by Terri Reid Page A

have to worry about me laughing at you,” he confessed. “I bought eighty.”
    “Time to hit the gym, Alden,” she quipped.
    Yeah, you’re not kidding.”

Chapter Nineteen
    “Hi honey, I’m home,” Mary called as she entered her house later that day.
    “Oh, and aren’t you the clever one,” Ian said, strolling from the kitchen with an apron wrapped around his waist. “I slave all day over a hot stove and you just show up willy-nilly at any time you’d like.”
    “Oh, Ian, you didn’t cook, did you?” Mary asked. “I’m going out with Rosie and Linda. We were going to eat in Rockford.”
    “ Aye, and when were you going to let me know about your plans?” he asked.
    “I’m sorry…” she began and then saw the twinkle in his eye. “You’re a cruel man, Ian MacDougal.”
    Laughing, he sat on the edge of the couch and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mary, me darling,” he said. “Bradley gave me a call and we decided we’d have a boys’ night of poker while you ladies go out shopping.”
    “Poker,” Mary cried. “I love poker.”
    “Aye and you fleece us out of every penny we have,” he replied. “With you out of the way, the rest of us have a chance to win something.”
    “What are you playing for?” she asked.
    “ Samoas ,” he said with a grin. “But the cookies aren’t coming until the weekend, so we’ll be using pennies in their stead.”
    “How late is the game going?” she asked innocently.
    “Oh, no, you’re not going to come back here all fresh from shopping and then take away all our winnings,” Ian said. “We stop the game as soon as you enter that door.”
    “Spoilsport,” Mary mumbled.
    “Aye, darling, that I am,” he said. “Now, would you be having a taste of my chili before you leave?”
    She followed him into the kitchen. The counters were covered with chopping boards, pots and pans and various ingredients. “Well, from the looks of the kitchen, I’d say you worked very hard on your recipe.”
    “Now, Mary, darling, don’t be looking at the process,” Ian said, grabbing a spoon from the drawer and dipping it into the chili. “Try the final creation.”
    She leaned forward and blew on the spoon, and then took the contents into her mouth. “Oh, wow, that’s good,” she said. “What’s in it?”
    “Well, I took your basic recipe and added some ingredients of my own,” he replied.
    She pulled a small cup from the cabinet and filled it halfway with more chili. “Like what?” she asked, shoveling another spoonful into her mouth.
    “Well, a bit of cocoa, a wee bit of cinnamon, some cilantro and some cumin,” he said. “And then there’s the secret ingredient.”
    Licking the chili sauce from her lips, she smacked them together. “You have to tell me,” she insisted. “What’s the secret ingredient?”
    “Tripe,” he pronounced proudly.
    Mary covered her mouth with her hand. “You’re kidding? Tripe?” she gagged, “as in sheep’s stomach?”
    “Aye,” he replied.
    “Aye as in you’re kidding or aye as in sheep’s stomach?”
    Grinning he placed the lid back on the pot. “Aye, as in if I’m losing at poker, I’ll mention the tripe in the chili. That ought to put them off their game for a bit,” he said and then added, “And aye, I’m only teasing. There isn’t a grocery store within five miles of here that carries a good selection of tripe.”
    “Well, thank goodness for small favors,” Mary said. “And just to show you that there are no hard feelings, I’m not going to help you clean up.”
    “Ach, Mary, you wound me,” he teased.
    She laughed. “I’m sure you’ll get over it.”
    He picked up a collection of pots and pans and carried them over to the sink. Mary found herself automatically following his lead and started to put spices back in place in the cabinet.
    “Where are you going with the ladies?” Ian asked.
    “Rockford for a little dress shopping,” she replied. “Linda is getting married in a week and a