Sugar And Spice (Main Street Merchants Book 7)

by Amelia C. Adams

  When they were finished, Toby grinned at her. “So, I realize that nothing can top our awesome picnic at the hospital the other day, but I wondered if I could take you out to lunch.”

  “Your place or mine?” Sloane asked, indicating the diner where they stood.

  He laughed. “Neither, actually. The resort has just opened a sandwich shop, and I thought it would be fun to go check it out.”

  Sloane glanced at the clock. “Think we can make it there and back before your shift?”

  “Oh, sure. We’ve got plenty of time.”

  “Okay, just give me a minute.” She went back into the office and brought up the ledger, adding in the check she’d just written to the food supplier and also noting the food she’d taken on the picnic the previous week and the box of strawberries she’d had to discard. Then she was ready to go.

  The drive up to the resort with Toby was completely different from the drive she’d taken with Chad the previous week. She and Toby bantered back and forth and sang along to the radio. By the time they were about a mile away from the resort, she got up the nerve to ask him a question.

  “So, I noticed when I came to pick you up that you live in one of the ritzier apartments here in town. What’s a nice waiter like you doing in a place like that?” She hoped her little joke would help her nosy question seem less nosy.

  Toby steered the car around a curve before he answered, “The apartment belongs to my parents. They let me stay in it when they’re not here skiing.”

  “And they kick you out when they are here?”

  He chuckled. “Of course not.”

  She mulled that over for a second. “So, are your folks rich or something? I’m sorry—I’m not the most subtle person ever.”

  “No, you’re fine. Um, yeah, my parents are pretty loaded. That’s part of why my dad didn’t want me working as a chef—he thought it was beneath me. As well as being girly. Girly and beneath me both.”

  “Doesn’t he know that the best chefs can go on to own their own restaurants and get stinkin’ rich?” Sloane asked.

  “I tried to tell him that, but he wasn’t in the most listening mood.” Toby brought the car around and drove past the restaurant. They went down the road a little farther before pulling up at a small outbuilding that must have been built within the last six months. “Here we are.”

  “So, is your dad super strict, then?” Sloane asked as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

  “Sort of . . . I don’t mean to give the wrong impression. I’ve got the best parents ever. They’ve always wanted what’s best for me. It’s just that once I started making my own decisions, we’ve clashed a little bit on what those decisions ought to be. Nothing huge—I was never kicked out of college or arrested for anything—but the little disagreements got a little blown out of proportion, if you know what I mean.” He hopped out of the car, came around, and opened her door.

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. My mom’s pretty anxious for me to move back to Farmington,” Sloane said as she climbed out. “And like your parents, I know she only wants what’s best for me, but I’m not even sure what that is right now, so how can I know if she’s right? My gut keeps telling me I belong in Aspen Ridge, and until I figure out why . . .” She paused. “I know why. It’s to help Eddie, of course.”

  “That sounds like an excellent reason to me.” Toby held out his arm, and Sloane took it as they crossed the parking lot. At first, she just thought he was being all chivalrous and whatever, but then she realized that the asphalt was kind of slippery. They’d had a little more snow up there in the last few days.

  They entered the sandwich shop, ordered at the counter, then slid into a booth to wait. Sloane glanced out the window and saw one flake of snow, and then several more, fall past.

  “It’s about time,” she said. “What did Mother Nature think this was? We’re Colorado, people!”

  “Now the ski season can really start,” Toby added. “Bring on the tourists.”

  By the time they’d finished their sandwiches—which were delicious—the snow was coming down thick and in earnest. The first turn on the road heading back to town was slick, and Toby chuckled.

  “I think we’ll be going about twenty all the way down,” he said. Sloane glanced at the clock on the dashboard. That would put him late to work at Frannie’s, but she’d rather get there safely than taking a chance.

  As they approached another stretch of road leading to a turn, a car came around the bend from the other direction, but it wasn’t going straight. It was slipping and sliding everywhere, and there wasn’t time—or room—to get out of its way. Everything happened so fast, and yet it seemed like it slowed down, too—the car swerved toward Toby and Sloane, Toby eased up on the gas and turned the wheel, and just then, the car rammed right into them, pushing them off the road.

  Sloane screamed, bracing herself against the dash with both hands as the car crunched through the guardrail. What good were guardrails, anyway, if they were going to be so crunchy? Then the car was thrown to the side, she hit her head on the window, and everything became blurry. She closed her eyes—it was too hard to keep them open.

  The car jerked to a stop. “Sloane!” She could hear Toby’s voice, but she couldn’t respond to it. “Sloane! Are you all right?”

  “Um …” She tried to respond, but responding was hard. Stupid responding.

  Then she heard another voice. “Oh, my gosh. Are you guys okay? I’m so sorry.” Whoever it was, he sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place him.

  “I’m fine, but I don’t know about Sloane.”

  “Fine,” she managed to call out.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” Toby said, his voice filled with relief. “But I’m not sure how we’re going to get out of here.”

  “I have OnStar on my car. Help will be here as soon as they can,” the familiar voice said. Wait … that sounded like Max Grayson. “I don’t think we can wait for them, though,” he went on.

  “But how are we going to get her out?”

  Sloane decided it was time to show her eyelids who was boss. She concentrated and opened them, but then wished she hadn’t. The car was hanging halfway off the road, and the nose on her side was dangling over a steep ravine.

  “Uh, Toby? The car looks a little tippy,” she said.

  “That’s the thing,” the other guy said. Yep, it was Max. He worked up at the resort as a ski instructor, but he was also a recording artist working on his next album. “Toby, if you move, the balance of the car will send her over the edge. But I can tell that the car’s sliding anyway. Whatever we do, we’ve got to do it fast.”

  Toby looked over at Sloane. “Can you climb over me and get out?”

  “I don’t know, but I can try,” Sloane said doubtfully. Toby’s car wasn’t huge, but she could probably slide across. “But what about you?”

  “If I roll out at the same time as you get out, we should be okay,” he said. She glanced at his face. He didn’t look very convinced.

  Another car pulled up just then, and two young men stepped out. “Hey, what’s going on?” one of them yelled.

  “We’ve got a car going off the road,” Max called back.

  “Hang on. We’ve got a rope,” the other guy said, and he disappeared into his trunk.

  “Hold really still, Sloane,” Toby said as the car shifted a little more. Her heart climbed into her throat. She couldn’t look down—there was nothing out her side but the tops of the trees that grew in the ravine.

  The new arrivals ran up to the car. “So, as we see it, you’ve got to get the people out before the car goes over, right? So we need to keep the car from going over.” One of the guys reached through the driver’s window—Sloane just then noticed that the glass had been broken out—and looped the rope around the steering column. Then he ran across and looped the other end around a tree growing on the mountain side of the road, then pulled everything snug.

  “Okay, Toby, I think now it’s time for Sloane to climb across you,” M
ax said. He opened the car door cautiously, and it didn’t ruin the rope contraption because the angle was just right. Small blessings and all that.

  “Are you all right, Sloane?” Max asked through the open door. “Your head is bleeding.”

  “It is?” She lifted her hand to her forehead, and it came away red. Well, she’d have to worry about that later. Right now, she had a car to climb out of. “Okay, Toby. Here I come.”

  He tried to roll his seat back to create more room for her, but the movement made the car shift, so he stopped. “Just go for it,” he said. “If you squash me, you squash me.”

  She unlooked her seatbelt and edged toward the left, then leaned across Toby and reached out. Max and one of the other guys grabbed an arm each and pulled, and she pushed off from the passenger door with her feet. Then she brought up her knee and pushed off the center console. It was a little awkward, being smashed up against Toby and then having the steering wheel dig into her side, but she knew that time was of the essence and she didn’t have the luxury of thinking about it.

  When she hit the ground, she skinned both her knees, but rolled out of the way as fast as she could because she knew that Toby had to get out right after her. She’d heard that steering wheels can pop off, and she didn’t want to see that for herself.

  As soon as both of them were out of the car, Max and the two other guys grabbed the rope and tried to pull the car back onto the shoulder. Two other cars had been stopped behind the first. One driver was laying on her horn, but the other got out to help, and after a few minutes, Toby’s car was safely on the shoulder.

  “Your nose is mangled, though,” Max said, surveying the damage. “You’re going to need a tow. Let me run you both down to InstaCare, and we can call a tow truck on the way.”

  “Thanks, Max,” Toby said. “Sure appreciate it.”

  “Don’t thank me. I’m the reason you’re in this mess.” He reached down and offered Sloane a hand up.

  She didn’t think she needed the help, but as soon as she was on her feet, she swayed, and Max slid his arm around her waist. “Just over to my car,” he said, and she stumbled along until she was tucked up in his backseat, a wad of napkins from his glove compartment pressed to her head.

  It took a little maneuvering, but soon Max’s car was facing back the way he’d come from, and they were heading down the mountain again. Toby pulled out his cell phone and made a call. “Hey, Frank? This is Toby. Hey, listen. Sloane and I were just in a car accident. We’re both . . . well, I’m okay, but Sloane’s head is bleeding. We’re on our way to InstaCare.” He paused. “Okay, thanks, Frank.”

  When he hung up, Sloane rushed to apologize, but he held up a hand. “Don’t even give it another thought,” he said. “Frank’s totally fine with it, and Mondays are slow at the restaurant anyway.”

  She groaned. “And what about tomorrow? We’re supposed to open . . .”

  “What’s Taci’s number?”

  She rattled it off, glad it was almost second nature and she didn’t have to think about it. Toby outlined the situation for Taci, asked her to come in the next morning, and then turned to Sloane with a triumphant grin. “Now, stop worrying,” he said. “Everything’s under control.”

  “But I sort of like worrying.”

  “I noticed. But listen—you’re hurt. Let the rest of us handle things, all right?”

  She nodded, but that didn’t feel so great.

  “You’re reopening the diner tomorrow? How can I help?” Max asked as he brought the car around a curve.

  Sloane was about to reply “Nothing”—because really, he was a ski instructor and a musician, and she didn’t see how that was helpful to a diner. But Toby replied before she could get the word out.

  “I’m not sure yet, but if you want to stop by, that would be great.”

  “Okay, you can plan on it.”

  Sloane thought about that as they drew nearer to Aspen Ridge. Max offered because he wanted to help, and Toby accepted because he knew Max wanted to help. It was one of those things she loved about the town where she lived—the feeling of community.

  Her forehead required three stitches, which they took care of as quickly and efficiently as possible. They gave her a supply of bandages so she wouldn’t look quite so scary, which she appreciated because Halloween was, after all, over, and then Max drove both her and Toby home.

  “You’ll be okay?” Toby asked for about the third time as he walked her to her door.

  “I’ll be fine. I’ll take some Tylenol and go to bed.”

  He searched her eyes with his. “Will you call if you start to feel worse?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He reached out and touched her arm, then let his hand trail down it until he was holding her hand. “I’m sorry that our date ended so badly.”

  “Well, that’s okay. The last date I had at the lodge ended pretty badly too. I think the place is cursed.” She chuckled, but that hurt her head. “Can we try again sometime?”

  “I’d really like that. But not at the lodge.” He squeezed her hand. “Sleep well.”

  “Thanks, Toby.” She turned and waved at Max, and he gave his horn one quick toot in reply.

  When she walked into her apartment, she found her bottle of Tylenol and downed three. Then she got a text. She really didn’t want to answer it, but figured she ought to. It was Taci, saying she was coming over to spend the night so Sloane wouldn’t be alone, and yes, she knew where to find Sloane’s spare key, and no, she wouldn’t be talked out of it. Sloane grinned, replied, Okay, then stumbled into bed.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sloane thought she’d sleep until the end of time, but she woke up when she heard someone tiptoeing around in the apartment before dawn. She froze, then remembered everything that had happened and that Taci had come to spend the night.

  Taci was making coffee in the kitchen when Sloane came out of her bedroom. “Hey! How are you feeling?”

  “My head hurts, but I’m okay.” Sloane lowered herself onto one of the kitchen stools. “What time is it?”

  “Five. I’m meeting Toby at the diner at five thirty so we can get a head start on the day. He’s so cute—he really wants things to go smoothly. I think he’s worried about letting you down.”

  Sloane smiled. “He couldn’t possibly let me down. I’m amazed at how much he’s done for us.”

  Taci raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you mean, how much he’s done for you?”

  “He’s done stuff for you too,” Sloane protested. “He gave you a ride into Denver and stayed at the hospital when Eddie had his heart attack.”

  “Yes, he did, and he was awesome about it, but I don’t think I was his only motivation. And speaking of Eddie, Sal couldn’t get through to you, so he called me and said that Eddie’s doing really well.”

  “I’m so glad.” Sloane nodded toward the coffee pot. “Can I have some of that?”

  “Of course. It’s your coffee.” Taci poured them each a cup. Sloane added cream and sugar to hers, then wrapped her hands around the mug. Nice and hot.

  “I really think you ought to go back to bed,” Taci said after taking a sip from her own cup. “I know you’re exhausted—you snored your head off all night long.”

  “I do not snore.”

  “Oh, yes, you do. I have proof.” Taci pulled her phone out of her pocket. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t believe me, so I recorded it. Wanna see?”

  “You recorded it without my knowledge and without a warrant? That’s got to be illegal.”

  Taci grinned. “Regardless, it’s now documented for posterity. I ought to show it to all your serious boyfriends so they can think twice before popping the question.”

  Sloane shook her head, then noticed that still didn’t feel so great. “All my serious boyfriends? Just how many do you think I have?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’ll sniff them all out. Gotta finish my hair and get out of here.”

  Sloane finished her coffee while Taci used the hair dr
yer. She contemplated staying up, but really, what was the point? She knew she couldn’t work, and if she didn’t get enough rest, she might not be able to work for a long time. She took her laptop with her so she could watch movies on Netflix, snuggled up with all her pillows, and fell asleep within minutes after Taci told her goodbye.

  ***

  Toby rolled his shoulders and threw a few fake punches as he stood in front of the grill. “Just warming up,” he told Taci when she raised her brows at him.

  “Because you expect the kitchen appliances to come at you swinging?”

  “Well, if they do, I’ll be ready.” He grinned, then sobered. “How’s Sloane?”

  “Tired and headachy, but I think she’ll be okay after some rest.”

  “Oh, good.” Toby tried not to think back on the day before. When he’d realized the danger they were in, how one unbalanced move could have sent the whole car over the edge, he’d never been so terrified in his life. Thank goodness Max had kept a cool head, which helped Toby stay calm, and Sloane had been able to do her part as well. As it turned out, the emergency response vehicles wouldn’t have been able to make it to the site of the accident for another twenty minutes—when he called to let them know they were taking Sloane in themselves, the dispatcher told him the ambulance hadn’t even been able to leave town yet. Who knew what would have happened if they’d waited.

  “And how are you?” Taci asked. “We’ve all been focused on Sloane—did you get checked out?”

  “Yeah, they looked me over. I’m a little stiff and sore, but I’m fine.”

  The door opened, and in came their first customers of the morning. Toby blew out a sharp breath. It had been a while since he ran a kitchen, but he could do this. He just needed to push aside all the bad memories and create new ones. That should be plenty easy, right?

  The biggest difference was that he didn’t have a sous chef. Everything was up to him. It took a certain rhythm to get everything done at the same time so the hash browns were still hot and the pancakes weren’t overcooked when the plate went out. He felt a little frantic for the first half hour or so, but as the morning went on, he was able to find a groove and work within it. Eggs went on the skillet when the pancake was a third done—figuring out little things like that really helped him out.