by Tegan Maher
Chapter Five
I STOOD UP AND STEPPED away from the old oak cabinet I’d finished staining. I tilted my head as I examined my work. Not bad. If only my writing were coming along as well. But with any luck, all of these decorating distractions would help with my creative constipation.
Dee came barreling past me, nearly knocking over the can of stain sitting on the floor beside me. I loved her to pieces, but she had the grace of a pregnant camel. Between her and Bear, I had to keep anything spillable or breakable well out of the line of fire. Speaking of, our monster dog gave a soft woof of greeting as she flew through the room. She paused long enough to give him a quick ear scratch, then continued toward the door like her tail was on fire.
"Mind if I borrow the car? Something came up at the cafe," she hollered over her shoulder, jiggling the keys over her head and not waiting for an answer as she charged toward my SUV. She wasn’t being obnoxious—we’d agreed she could use it anytime she needed to, and I’d already told her I was planning to stay home all day.
"Go ahead," I called after her, frowning as she jumped in, fired it up, and threw it in reverse.
I shook my head. She’d been rushing forward at breakneck speed trying to pull her new business back from the brink of disaster. What had seemed like an easy fix in the beginning was proving to be on scale with turning a runaway train, and I was afraid she was gonna find herself under the wheels. The food at the little diner had been sub-par at best, and she wanted to start fresh—get it right from the get-go. She wanted to make the cafe the go-to place for folks looking for a decent meal. She was right when she said dining options in Mercy were limited, and if she played her cards right, she’d corner the market. The problem was, she was playing against a stacked deck. Still, I had faith in her. She was pouring her heart into making it work, and I had no doubt it would pay off if the stress of it didn’t kill her first.
“That girl’s running herself ragged,” Maisey said from behind me. “It ain’t good for her. You can only burn the candle at both ends for so long before you run out of wax.”
“I know,” I said, noting the worry lines creasing my new ghostly mother figure’s mouth. “She’s about got it, though. She and Jeremy are working on a menu. Her only problem is that she’s gonna have to do some of the cooking shifts herself until she can afford to bring on a second cook. That’s not exactly her forte, but she doesn’t really have a choice right now.” I was being generous; she made the most mouth-watering desserts I’d ever tasted, but when it came to cooking, the girl would burn water.
“Well then here’s hopin’ the place takes off before too long. You’re a good cook. Why don’t you help her?”
I raised my brows and shook my head. “Oh no,” I said, “The last thing she needs is me in that kitchen. There’s a massive difference between cooking a huge meal for several people and cooking dozens of single ones.”
“Then why doesn’t she invest some of the money Fiona left her?” Her silvery brow was furrowed in thought. She tended to be a fixer and looked for solutions rather than excuses.
“I don’t think she has a lot of that left. She got a nice chunk, but the bathrooms needed a serious upgrade—the toilets were leaking and one of the sinks only had cold water going to it. Then the dishwasher broke. Several of the booths were so old, the springs were poking through. Fiona’d just sectioned them off, but that’s wasted seating. Plus, it looked horrible.”
“Still, maybe new booths could have waited until she was up and running a little better.”
“Maybe,” I replied, “but it needed doing and she wants to draw a clear line between the old, Fiona-run cafe and the Phoenix she’s coaxing out of the ashes, so to speak.”
“Well, at least her baking business is taking off. Hopefully, it won’t take long for her to be able to hire another cook.”
A familiar niggle of guilt worked its way through my mind. Right after we’d solved her aunt’s murder—or rather, right after Bear had sniffed out the evidence—a guy named Jason Cade had contacted us about staying in the lodge while he worked on a road construction project not far away and we’d agreed. Despite my protests, Dee had insisted on helping me pay for a new roof on the lodge so it would pass all the necessary inspections in return for using the kitchen for her baking business.
Thankfully, Jason’s job had been pushed back by a month, because the roofers had just finished. I’d used the last of my savings to furnish the place, and now the place was all set for business. Jason had spread the word to a couple of his coworkers, so we had three guests renting rooms for the duration of their project, which was set to run for a couple of months. I still wasn’t sure if it was the right call, but I figured I could use Jason and his buddies as a dry run to see what I thought of being an innkeeper. I could always change my mind when they left if I didn’t like it. The place was, after all, mine free and clear.
I had to admit, I was looking forward to trying something new. My goal when I’d moved to Mercy was to settle into a quiet life and try to get my writing career off the ground. I’d had a little money put back, and I’d figured I could live off it, at least for a while. As often happened, life didn’t go as planned. The lodge had been a mess, and I’d found Dee standing over her aunt’s body on my second day in town. In a weird way, it had been a blessing because we’d become fast friends, but I was worlds away from where I’d anticipated.
“I think once she revamps the menu, she’s gonna be just fine. Like she says, there’s not exactly a lot of competition. If Jeremy’s willing to help her with the books, she should be able to back off and focus on her bakery.”
I hadn’t really taken a good look at her when she’d popped in, but when I turned to her because she didn’t respond, her mismatched galoshes jumped out at me. I cocked a brow at her. “Nice boots.”
Rather than scowl at me like I expected, she preened. “I know. I couldn’t decide between the bright green ones and the pink ones, so I wore one of each.”
Sometimes the best thing to say is nothing at all, but when she didn’t get a response, she shrugged. “What? It’s not like I’m on the hunt for a man, and you’re the only person besides Dee who can see me anyway. I spent my whole life dressin’ to suit others. Now I’m dead. I reckon I’ll wear what I want.”
Logic I couldn’t refute. There were a lot of words to describe my new life, but boring wasn’t one of them.
Chapter Six
I CLEANED OUT MY BRUSHES and decided to go for a run before the temperatures crept into the intolerable range. Summer had set on with a vengeance, and though I was used to it, that didn’t mean I wanted to run in it. This time I planned to stay on the paths. Aside from my personal aversion to stumbling across dead bodies, I was pretty sure the sheriff would have an aneurysm if I did.
It didn't take me long to throw on some clothes. I trotted downstairs and patted my leg. "Are you coming, Bear?"
The big lug groaned but dragged himself off the couch, then took a moment to stretch and shake before he trotted to my side. I opened the door and followed him out, doing a few of my own stretches before taking off. I hadn't gone far when Scout’s ancient pickup truck made the turn onto my driveway.
He stopped next to me, leaned across the cab, and rolled down the passenger side window. I chuckled as I watched him strain to roll it down all the way. “You know, they started making trucks in the eighties with windows you can roll down with a push of a button.” I’d teased him about his dinosaur of a vehicle since the first time I’d seen it, but he claimed it was a classic.
He offered me a big smile. "Yeah, but where’s the fun in that? It’s good exercise to help me keep my biceps big and strong.” He flexed and made an exaggerated caveman face and I couldn’t help but laugh and shake my head. “Am I interrupting?"
I glanced down at Bear, who was wagging his tail so hard his butt was shaking. I shook my head. "Nope. Just heading out for a run before it gets too hot, Mr. Cromagnon. I’m off today. What's up?"
He lifted a white paper bag, and the smell emanating from it made my mouth water. I was pretty sure there was bacon and biscuits in it—the kind of meal that was the polar opposite of running. "Just thought I'd bring some breakfast by."
The last time Scout had brought me breakfast, it had been homemade blueberry muffins that he’d made himself. I smiled; the man was handsome and good in the kitchen. Talk about the total package. "Well, if it's half as good as your baked muffins ..."
He shook his head. "I'm afraid I had nothing to do with this other than ordering it, and it isn't baked goods this time."
I stopped dead and turned to look at him, afraid he may have decided to do a pick-up from Dee before I remembered she’d just left. No way had she had time to get to the diner in time to cook something toxic and put it in a bag. Still, that left few options and none of them were particularly palatable. "Just where did you go to get us this wonderful repast then?"
My face must have given me away, because Scout chuckled and said, "Don't worry. Dee is great and one hell of a baker, but the woman can't cook an actual meal to save her life. She is not responsible for cooking this."
My body relaxed almost immediately as I smiled and nodded.
"Do you want a lift, hot stuff?” He waggled his brows at me. We’d been playing the flirting game for a few weeks now and had gone on a couple dates. I was worried that he was in a better spot for a relationship that I was, so I was taking my time and keeping a bit of distance. I was fresh out of a divorce and didn’t want to confuse rebound emotions with real ones. That wouldn’t be fair to either of us.
I snorted. "It's, like, fifty-feet away, Romeo.” I gestured toward the lodge. “I think I can manage."
Scout shrugged. "Suit yourself. Your loss, riding in this fine machine," he said as he gunned the engine and took off.
He barely beat me and I shook my head as I reached into the open window and grabbed the takeout from the passenger seat of the truck. Scout climbed out of the truck carrying two to-go cups of coffee and followed me to the door of the lodge, bending over to love on Bear while I unlocked the door and pushed it open. Tossing my keys into a dish on the bureau in the hallway, I walked into the kitchen and fished the food out of the bag. I frowned as I recognized the packaging from the cafe. "Hey, I thought you said you didn't get these from Dee."
Scouts eyes twinkled. "No, I said Dee didn't make them; I never said I didn't get them from the cafe."
"Oh, Jeremy’s working,” I said. “I wasn’t thinking.”
Scout nodded. "Yeah. He used to fill in for Fiona off and on when she needed a day off, but to be honest, she probably did more business on the two days a week he worked than she did the rest of the week combined.”
I didn’t doubt that one bit. “I only ate there once but I’m not sorry about that. If the burger she cooked was any indication, I’d have been doing a lot of cooking at home.”
Scout chuckled. "Yeah, about the only good thing about her place was that she kept it immaculate. You may have choked to death on her dry meat, but food poisoning wasn’t a concern. It’s a good thing for Dee that Jeremy decided to stay on, for a couple reasons. People already know he can cook, so if he’s there regularly, she’ll be showing an increase in profits right off the bat. Assuming she doesn’t do much of the cooking. Also, he’s got a good head for books.”
Not sure what to expect when I opened up my container, I was surprised to find a breakfast burrito inside. It was stuffed with eggs, tomatoes, hash browns, onions, garlic, cheese and jalapeno peppers, and was the perfect temperature for eating. I bit into it and closed my eyes as I chewed. It was honestly one of the best breakfast burritos I had ever had. The veggies were cooked to a perfect al-dente and the whole thing had some sort of seasoning that heightened all the flavors without overwhelming them.
"Well,” I said, chasing it with a drink of coffee, “if he can cook like this, then I'm sure the cafe’s problems are going to be far behind them in no time."
Scout took a bite and nodded as he moaned in appreciation. "Like I said, that café was packed when he was cooking, and that was even with him working off her menu rather than his own."
“If Fiona would’ve hired him full-time and let him do his thing, her café would’ve done a lot better.”
Scout rolled his eyes. “Can you imagine Fiona relinquishing control of her café to someone else while she was alive?”
I chuckled. Fiona had definitely been one hell of a control freak. “No, not really, but I don’t understand why she wouldn’t have at least wanted to start taking some time off. She was pushing retirement age.”
Scout shook his head. "Fiona couldn't stand to have anyone around that was better at something than she was. Dee was the only exception, but she kept her in check by taking credit for all of her baking and not paying her any extra for it."
"So this breakfast burrito is on the new menu?"
Scout swallowed a huge bite and shook his head. "No. Jeremy deviated a little from the menu and made these especially for us with what he found in the kitchen. He’s actually good about making special orders."
"That's good,” I said, rushing to catch some juice before it ran down my elbow. “People like to be able to order something off-menu if that’s what they want. The only thing is I could see it becoming a problem if he’s slammed.”
"Maybe, but I don’t think it’s ever that busy. I’m telling you, he’s good. You haven’t lived until you had his meatloaf.” Scout looked around as he munched. “So, not to change the subject, but have you decided what part of the remodel you’re going to take on next?"
He’d helped us at various points, and though the lodge was ready for guests, there was still a lot of work to be done on it.
I shook my head as I looked around. We hadn’t gotten around to refurbishing the floors, so there were a lot of rugs scattered about. The wood was mostly solid, but it wasn’t pretty in some spots. "Not really. We've come a long way on it, but we have a lot more to do and money’s pretty tight. Until we have more funds to play with, I guess I’ll do a little here and a little there as I can. Jason and his friends are due to arrive next week, but we’re ready for them. I hate to do much while they’re here, though."
"Anything I can do to help?" he asked past a mouthful of food.
I shook my head. "Not at the moment."
He nodded, his eyes glinting with mischief. "But let me guess, you'll keep me in mind."
I laughed out loud at the memory of my response to him the first time he’d offered to help. The result of that particular stubborn streak had been a night spent shivering 'til my teeth rattled because I’d been too proud to accept his help with building a fire in the wood burner.
"Yes, I will definitely keep you in mind." I paused as I thought about the floors again. If things took off, who knew when the lodge would be free of guests next?
“Come to think of it,” I said, holding up a finger, “I could use a carpenter. There’s some damaged hardwood on some of the upstairs flooring. I haven’t checked into how much the lumber will cost yet. And I don’t have much money for labor.”
He shook his head and held up a hand to stop me. “You can make me a nice dinner or something to cover the labor. As for flooring expenses, all we have to do is find some old pallets. We can break them down, sand them up, use a router to put some grooves in so they fit together like the tongue-and-groove stuff you can get at the store, stain them and then lay them. In the end, the only expense you’re going to have will be the stain, nails, and glue. Worst case scenario, I’m friends with the guy who owns the lumberyard and can probably get you enough in scraps to make the repairs.”
I grinned. I hated to put him out, but trying to get this lodge done with just Dee’s help was so stressful. The expense of some of the repairs was enough to make my head explode and though I was pro with Google, DIY had never been my thing. “Wow. You’re kind of handy to have around.”
“Yep,” he said, swallowing the last bite of his burrito and
wadding up his napkin. “I’ve been trying to tell you that this entire time. I’m more than just my rugged good looks.”
Laughing, I gave his shoulder a shove. “And modest, too. You really are all that and a bag of chips.”
Something warm and furry nudged my leg and I looked down into two soulful eyes. Bear glanced back and forth from my eyes to the last bite of burrito in my hand and I sighed. Table food wasn’t good for him, but I couldn’t resist that look. I held the final scrap of egg and veggie goodness down and he gently took it from my fingers before dropping it to the floor. I watched as he nudged it open with his nose and pushed the tomato out of the way before gulping the rest of it down.
“Really?” I asked him. “Beggars can’t be choosers, you know.”
Scout laughed. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t see it that way. He figures you should be lucky he lets you feed him.”
“Nah,” I said, bending down to give Bear’s scruff and good scratching. “That’s how cats think. This big guy here thinks the sun rises and sets on anybody who feeds him.” I was rewarded for my attention with a big, sloppy kiss all the way up the side of my face.
When he was sure there were no more handouts forthcoming, he turned and trotted up the stairs, probably heading to one of the rooms to take a nap. I shook my head as I bent down and scooped the piece of mushy tomato off the floor with a napkin. “Note to self—next time, take the tomato off before I give it to him.”
Scout chuckled. “Or just stop eating food with tomato on it. That’ll make him happy and avoid the problem altogether."
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll go to a lot of lengths to make him happy, but I’m not giving up tomatoes. He's better at shaming than my mother, but I’m only going so far." I gathered the containers and stuffed them all back into the bag before tossing the whole thing into the trash. When I squished the bag, the faint remnants of the scent of our breakfast whooshed up and hit me in the face. I shook my head, amazed at how great everything had tasted. Dee could have never managed this, so I was glad she had someone good to help her out with the cooking. Now just for her to find a second someone, then maybe a third. If she was going to be open for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, she’d need at least three, bare minimum. That was a worry for another day though.
