Baked with Love

by Peggy Jaeger

  Colleen sighed and kissed my cheek. “I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “You’d survive, but you wouldn’t get the family discount or the personal service-with-a-smile you’re used to.”

  Her laugh warmed my heart.

  “Before you go…” I moved to my industrial refrigerator, pulled out a bundle of aluminum foils, and put them in a shopping bag. “Here. Leftovers from yesterday for you and Slade. Now you don’t have to cook tonight.”

  Colleen took the bag and then tugged me into her arms for a full body hug, not an easy accomplishment with her belly bump in the way.

  “I simply adore you,” she said, with another cheek kiss. “My husband does, as well. You take care of us better than anyone.”

  “I aim to please.”

  “Speaking of, what did Lucas want?”

  I glared at her. “How did you take ‘I am to please’ and equate it with Lucas?”

  “He’s just another person in your realm who adores you and who you take care of.”

  I shook my head. “Okay, first? He adores my cooking, not me. And second? My realm? Really, Coll? You make me sound like some imperial and benevolent ruler.”

  “Benevolent for sure. I won’t go so far as to call you a ruler because then I’d be your subject and I’m older than you, so, no way.”

  Her laugh drew one from me.

  “And as far as Lucas adoring your cooking and not you, they’re one and the same, sis. Now, why was he here?” She held up the shopping bag. “To mooch one of these go-bags for him and his dad?”

  She wasn’t wrong in asking if I’d given him his own to take. More times than not, Lucas would stop by on his way home after a long day for a quick cup of coffee and a chat. He never left empty-handed if Sarah—my assistant—or I had anything to say about it.

  I explained about Robert Alexander and the favor Lucas had asked me.

  “Win-win for you,” she said. “You get extra help, which I know you can always use, plus you get another person to take under your smother-love maternal wing and care for.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know exactly what I mean, Maureen Angela Bernadette.” She flapped her free hand in the air like she was waving a wand. “You may be the baby in our family, but you act more like a mother hen any day of the week. You cook for us, look out for us, heck, you even research solutions to problems like you did when Cathy’s dog got sick, or when I was suffering through that awful early-stage morning sickness. Adding Lucas’s son, a teenage boy who’s probably got all the angst and raging emotions inherent in the breed under your wing, and I bet my secret stash of stress-candy, the kid’s never gonna look at his own mother the same way again.” She kissed my cheek one more time and said, “I’ve gotta go, so toodles. I’ll see you later when I come back to escort the bridal party to the church. Thanks for lunch.” She lifted the bag. “And dinner.”

  To her retreating back I said, “Just FYI, it’s not such a secret stash. We all know where you keep it.”

  Her response was to toss me a backhanded wave as she went through the doors of the inn.

  With my hands fisted on my hips, I shook my head.

  So what if I tended to spoil the people I love? Make sure they got enough to eat? Always had a bed ready they could crash in, or a willing ear they could confide in? They deserved it. It was my humble opinion if more people showed how much they cared about one another, instead of simply tossing out an offhand I love you every now and again, people, in general, would be much happier.

  If that was smothering, so be it.

  Back in my kitchen, I washed Colleen’s dishes, then reheated my cup of untouched tea. While I drank it, I planned the next few days in my head and went over the staffing I’d need for the busy weeks ahead of me. When I added Robert Alexander’s name to my mental tally, it was his father’s ruggedly handsome face that popped into my mind’s eye.

  The exhaustion I saw floating in his eyes was worrying. Having his aged and ailing father living with him was taking a toll on Lucas’s mental well-being. Hogan Alexander cornered the market on the term curmudgeon. He’d been crabby and ill-tempered ever since I could remember. My grandmother claimed it was because his wife up and left him after sixteen years of marriage, saddling him with a teenage son Hogan didn’t know how to relate to. The fact Lucas grew to such a wonderful man and upstanding citizen was one of the wonders of the modern world. Cursed with a father who doled out complaints instead of compliments and a mother who left to find herself at the age of forty, Lucas could so easily have gone to the dark side. Instead, he’d enlisted in the army with his best friend, served three tours, then come home to roost.

  When his own marriage had gone south, Lucas didn’t turn bitter as his father had but made every effort he could to be a good father to his son.

  A quick glance at the wall clock and I stopped my woolgathering. I had to get the private dining room ready for Colleen’s bride’s rehearsal dinner. Before, though, I needed to wrap the chocolate pops and get them to the maid of honor. Remembering the look of confused horror on Lucas’s face when he spied them brought a smile to my own.

  But then, just thinking of him always did.

  Chapter 2

  “Almost everyone’s checked out, Maureen. Want me to get the girls started on breaking down the rooms?”

  I glanced up from the shopping list I was making to find Sarah, hands on her hips, peering down at me.

  “That always sounds like you want to take a hammer to everything and smash it up instead of getting the sheets into the laundry and the rugs vacuumed.”

  My assistant grinned and shrugged.

  I gave her the go-ahead to start cleaning the vacated rooms. Breakfast service had ended a few minutes ago, and my kitchen crew was busy getting everything ready for lunch. Mondays could typically be a slow day with leftover weekend guests departing and not many checking in. The first day of the workweek was also restocking day, and my shopping list was almost complete when I heard Sarah greet Lucas.

  He popped into the kitchen a moment later, his son in tow.

  Tall, like his father, give Robert a decade, and he’d be Lucas’s clone. The same angular jaw, the identical thick eyebrows over those hooded lids and moss-at-midnight green eyes. I pitied the poor hearts of the girls in his age group when those gangly arms and shoulders filled out; he’d be a heartbreaker for sure.

  “Hey,” Lucas said, his typical greeting sounding a bit strained.

  “Hey, back.” I rose from my chair, a smile on my face as my gaze settled on Robert. The first time I’d ever seen him was the day he was baptized in our parish church. He’d been a quiet, calm baby during the ceremony, never crying when the holy oil and water had been dripped on his head. When I was a teenager, I’d babysat him on odd weekends when Lucas was home on leave from the army and he and Nora wanted a date night. He’d been an easy kid, still quiet and calm, and it took a lot of coaxing to pull a smile from him. But I always managed to.

  Through the years following his parents’ divorce, I’d caught glimpses of him when he’d come to visit Lucas, and he’d always treated me to one of his rare smiles.

  Now, standing behind his father, his hands slung in his well-worn jeans’ pockets, shoulders rounded, and his chin dropped to his chest, a curtain of thick black hair covered most of his face. I could hear Hogan Alexander’s voice in my head admonishing him to get a haircut.

  “Well, look at you.” I scanned my gaze up and down the long and still-growing length of him. “I think you’re a foot and a half taller since the last time I saw you at Christmas.” Robert finally lifted his head. Those deep green eyes were tense and guarded. Maybe even a smidge wary.

  I smiled and opened my arms. “Come give me a hug, Bobby-Boy.” The use of the old nickname pulled his lips into a half grin that morphed to a full-fledged smile by the time he crossed the space between us and melted into my arms.

  “Good lord,” I said, patting his back. The to
p of my head grazed his chin. “You’re not only a giant, you’re a tank.” I squeezed one of his upper arms. “Robert Langdon Alexander, you’ve been lifting.”

  A cocky grin, another feature he had in common with his father, spread across his face.

  Yup, the boy was gonna fracture several hearts in the years to come.

  “New gym coach. He’s into weights.”

  His height wasn’t the only change in him since the winter. His voice had taken on a decidedly deeper, masculine quality.

  “Well, working for me will keep those muscles in good form,” I said, letting him go. “You okay with this? Did your dad tell you what’s involved?”

  He shoved his hands back into his pockets, shrugged, and then gave a little head flick to swipe the hair out of his eyes after he nodded. “Grunt work.”

  I laughed and snuck a quick glance at Lucas. His brows were beetled, and his mouth tugged down at the corners. Before he could scold his son for his reply, I said, “Pretty much. But you get breakfast and lunch every day included, and you can be a taste tester for anything I’m baking. Still got your sweet tooth?”

  His grin was fast and open, and he looked like a little boy who’d been told he was the sole owner of the keys to the candy store. “For your stuff, always.”

  I swatted his arm. “Flatterer. Okay, let’s get you up to speed.”

  Lucas had watched the entire interplay between his son and me without saying a word.

  “Come back by four,” I told him. “We’ll be done by then.”

  Those deep green and heavily lashed eyes took a tiny sweep from my face down to my apron. Today’s was a birthday gift from my oldest sister. Baby blue, with My Kitchen Is My Happy Place embroidered across the bodice.

  One side of Lucas’s mouth ticked up a bit when he read it. As always, whenever his attention was focused on me, a thousand butterflies flapped against my insides. My knees went a little soft, and I swear I could have stood there all day basking in his gaze.

  “Well, we all know that’s the truth.” He lifted his chin to indicate my apron. To his son, he said, “Mind Maureen and do what she says, okay?”

  The free and easy smile flew from Robert’s face. He shrugged, then dropped his chin back to his chest. My heart went out to the boy.

  “Can I talk to you a minute before I leave?” Lucas asked.

  “There are some sugar cookies in the jar by the coffeemaker,” I told Robert. “Help yourself. There’s milk in the fridge. When I’m done with your dad, I’ll give you a tour and get you set up, okay?”

  I don’t know if it was because the thought of eating my sugar cookies made him happy, or the fact his father was leaving, but the boy’s smile returned.

  I walked Lucas out to the front door.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  A sigh as cavernous as the Grand Canyon blew from between his lips. It took every ounce of will I could muster not to wrap my arms around him.

  “Nothing, now that he’s here with you. Yesterday, though, was…tough.”

  “With his mother?”

  He shook his head. “Dad. Lit into the kid as soon as he was dropped off.”

  “About what?”

  His laugh was short and caustic. “Pick a subject. Hair’s too long, stand up straight, eat something, smile. Flashbacks hit me hard when I heard him. It was like I was fifteen again and having all that tossed at me instead of my son.”

  I was too young to remember when Lucas’s mother had left, but according to things I’d heard over the years from Cathy and Nanny Fee—for whom the term nosy parker was invented—Hogan Alexander took her departure hard and made his son the brunt of many a tongue-lashing. The general consensus in my family was Lucas joined the army at eighteen to get out of the house and away from the verbal tirades he lived through daily.

  “And I was no help cuz I got called out to a domestic disturbance and had to leave the two of them alone. Robert sequestered himself in his room until I got back, six hours later. He hadn’t eaten or even come out to go to the bathroom because he didn’t want to deal with his grandfather.”

  The worry and fatigue clouding his eyes had me wanting to give any comfort I could to shoo those clouds away.

  “The old man’s attitude is getting worse, and I really think it’s because he’s alone so much. With me at work all the time and none of his old cronies coming by to visit anymore, he’s got to be lonely. He can’t drive since the stroke, so he can’t get out like he used to. You’d think having his one and only grandson come for an extended visit would make him happy, give him something to look forward to. Unfortunately, no.”

  “You don’t have Visiting Nurse come in anymore to help him?”

  “He stopped them as soon as he was able to walk, unassisted. Told me he didn’t want strangers in the house telling him what to do. It’s not like I can force it on him.”

  “No, you can’t. And I’m betting he wouldn’t be willing to go live at Angelica Arms, would he?”

  That acerbic laugh barked from him again. “Not in this lifetime. I’ve asked him a couple of times if he wanted to be admitted to the assisted living part where your grandmother is. His response is he’s not gonna die in a nursing home filled with old people. The last time I broached the subject he threw a book at me. Conversation closed.”

  Which was a shame. If Hogan was admitted to the Arms, he’d be able to enjoy the company of people his own age, get waited on hand and foot by the staff—something Nanny loved—and Lucas wouldn’t have to worry about him being left alone for so much of the day.

  He glanced down at his watch. “Anyway, I’ve gotta go, but I wanted to tell you again how grateful I am Robert’s with you.” He wrapped one of his large hands around my upper arm and squeezed. Warmth seeped into my entire body. I wanted to pull his other hand around my waist and have him hold me close.

  And possibly do more than just hold me.

  “First time the kid’s smiled since he got here was when he saw you,” Lucas said, oblivious to my thoughts.

  “We’ve always had fun together in the past. Don’t worry about him,” I managed to say. “I’ll make sure he’s okay.”

  “I know you will.”

  As if realizing for the first time where his hand was, Lucas took a quick glance at my arm, his hand around it, and then back up to my face. His head tilted a little to his left, and his brows drew together until a deep, solid line formed between them.

  I held my breath while his gaze bounced between my eyes, searching for…something.

  There have been so many times in my life I’ve regretted not telling Lucas how I felt about him. When I was a teenager, I couldn’t because he was already an adult, married, and had a kid. How humiliating it would have been to divulge my crush to him then. After his divorce, years later, when I’d reached maturity and wasn’t a skinny, shy, and quiet teenager anymore, it would have been easy to let him know. But I hadn’t. At the time, my twin sister had been dying of breast cancer, a disease she was stricken with soon after we’d signed the ownership papers on the inn. All the times we’d been together over the years at weddings, funerals, when Nanny has needed bailing out (Don’t ask. It would take too long to explain), even those times he dropped by for a chat and a cup of coffee after a long day, and I still hadn’t made my feelings known.

  Why? Well, that was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it?

  I could chock it up to opportunity lost, or my own deep-rooted anxieties about any man loving me. I was the twin sister no one noticed, the quiet one to Eileen’s gregarious and outgoing personality. With her death, I was still considered the shy and retiring one, a situation I hadn’t done anything to correct. I could even assign blame to the fact I thought Lucas and Cathy would get together after her husband died. They’d known each other forever and had been best friends for as long as I could remember. But my oldest sister had recently gotten engaged and her wedding was coming up in three weeks, so that excuse didn’t fly anymore.

  R
ight now, with his long, strong fingers circling my upper arm and his eyes zeroed in on mine, there were so many things I could say or do to let him know how I felt. Once again, I made the choice to do nothing.

  With a curt nod, I took a step back, forcing Lucas to drop his hold.

  “Well, we’ve both got things to do.” I placed what I hoped wasn’t a maniacal smile on my face. “You go keep the citizens of Heaven safe, and I’ll put your son to work.”

  His eyebrows smashed together, the tiny wrinkles at the corners of his eyes fanning out and deepening. I understood his confusion.

  “Maureen—”

  I opened the door before he could say anything else. “See ya later, Lucas. Stay safe.”

  Talk about the bum’s rush.

  With one last questioning frown, he nodded, plopped his hat on his head, and left.

  I took a moment to lean against the closed door and rub a hand across my midsection in a ridiculous attempt to quell those flapping butterflies.

  ****

  “Holy crap.” Robert fell into my kitchen chair, his long, lanky legs man-spread in front of him, his arms dangling, lifeless at his sides. “My entire body is sore, and I didn’t even lift any weights. You work like this every day?”

  I bit back a chuckle. Today’s luncheon service had been a third what it usually was during a busy season like fall, or leaf-peeping season as native New Hampshirites referred to it. And since it was a Monday, I could shave even a few more guests off the list.

  “Honestly, Bobby-Boy, what you just worked through was nothing. Wait until this weekend. I’ve got one of Colleen’s weddings taking place here, and the guest list is around two hundred for the reception.”

  Half-dollar coins were smaller than the size his eyes widened to.