“It’s the least I could do, fair lady.” Kidding around, he made a big show of pushing up his sleeves and standing dramatically before the hot oven, armed with the potholders, ready to do battle. Then he carefully lifted the Dutch oven, set it on the stove, and closed the oven door. Then he made an exaggerated bow. “Your dragon has been slain, my lady.”

“Gee. Thanks,” she teased, laughing. “Now, knight, go sit ye hiney in ye yonder chair before ye be hurt.”

He smiled. “You do that accent pretty well.”

She shrugged. “Sumer Stock between my Junior and Senior years of college.”

“Of course,” he teased. But this...