Lily

by Chris Keniston

  Her hand wrapped around the doorknob, Poppy snapped straight in place.

  “Would you stop squirming,” her sister muttered. “You’re going to break something.”

  Break something?

  “You’re not doing it fast enough. Let me show you how.”

  There were several logical possibilities for the exchange inside, but only one thing came to mind and she had no intention of turning the knob and finding out for sure. Taking a quiet step back to avoid being heard, she chuckled quietly to herself for being so careful. Who the heck inside would be paying any attention to her making noise out here?

  The loud rumble of male voices in the distance grew louder—and closer. Ralph and the General were coming down the hill from Ralph’s house. Oh no. She didn’t have any choice. Banging on the door, she closed her eyes, turned the knob and hollered, “Ready or not, the General’s on his way.”

  At the same moment she shoved the door open, Lily’s voice rang out, “Now you’ve done it. I’ll have to find some tweezers.”

  Tweezers?

  “Poppy?” Lily said. “What are you doing here? And why is your hand over your eyes?”

  Spreading her fingers apart like a Vulcan hand signal, Poppy opened one eye. Brother, did she feel the fool.

  Fully clothed, her sister stood with something thin and pointy in her hand staring at Poppy as though she had snakes growing out of her head.

  No defense like a good offense. “I’ll do you one better. What are you doing?”

  “Scratching his itch.”

  Her gaze darted quickly from Lily to Cole and back.

  Rolling her eyes, her sister blew out a sigh. “In his cast. His arm is itchy.” Lily waved whatever was in her hand in his direction. “Mr. Stubborn here insisted on rubbing too hard and we broke the bamboo skewer. Now the bottom half of it is stuck in his cast and I need to get it out. Though I doubt there’s any extra long pair of tweezers here.”

  The rumble of laughter floated into the room seconds before the General. “Ralph and I are heading into town for an afternoon game of checkers at Floyd’s. Thought we’d pop in a second make sure everything is going all right. You don’t need anything?”

  “I don’t suppose you have a pair of tweezers in your pocket?” Sarcasm clearly laced her words.

  The General squinted with confusion and then chuckled. “Nope. Can’t say that I do.”

  Ralph shuffled around his friend moving closer to Cole, and nodded at him. “I’m Ralph. I live on the other side of the creek. You need anything this little lady can’t do for you, just call on me.”

  “Thanks. Appreciate the offer.” Cole smiled up at the older man.

  Lily reached out and laid a hand on the old neighbor’s arm. “I really am sorry for letting my car roll into your shed.”

  “Nothing to be sorry for.” Eyes twinkling, Ralph smiled and turned to the General. “Ready?”

  “All right then.” Their grandfather clicked his heels and did a 180 degree perfect turn. “We’d better get going before Floyd thinks we skipped out on him.”

  “If you’ll excuse me a minute, I’m going to see if by any miracle we have some tweezers in the bathroom.” Lily scurried down the hall.

  “I suppose I should introduce myself more formally. I’m Poppy, Lily’s youngest sister.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Cole McIntyre.”

  He had a nice smile, the kind to put a person quickly at ease. For a few seconds she considered apologizing for the way she’d burst into the cabin, but as her great granny used to say, “Better to keep your mouth closed and appear a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.”

  Unexpectedly, his smile slipped and a crease formed between his brows. “Lily, Violet, Hyacinth, and now Poppy. You all have flower names?”

  “That’s right.” Poppy smiled, pleased his frown hadn’t come from something more serious. “We are the product of three wanna-be hippie sisters who named all of their daughters after flowers.”

  “Wanna-be?”

  “Too young to actually be hippies, but old enough to remember, they grew up to be prominent citizens. Heavens, my Aunt Rebecca is about as prominent as they get, but they never gave up on the flower names.”

  “I see.” The look on his face said anything but.

  Rather than explain the family dynamics further, she showed him the container in her hand. “Lucy’s soup. I popped in for lunch and am off to the church, but thought I’d save Lucy the delivery trip.”

  “Church.” Cole glanced up at the clock. “Mass or a funeral?”

  “Neither,” Poppy chuckled. “I’m a bookkeeper at St Mary’s. Funerals are Mom’s department. Ever since my dad died she runs Lawford Funeral Home in town.”

  “Sorry for your loss.”

  “Thanks, but that was a long time ago.”

  “How about that.” Lily trotted into the living room, triumphantly holding a pair of tweezers in the air.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Poppy said to Cole, “I’ll go ahead and put this in the kitchen. Lucy sent enough for lunch and said if you two want more just let her know and she’ll send another batch down.”

  “Thanks.” Her brows curled in concentration, Lily sat beside her patient.

  Poppy headed straight for the door. “I’ll let myself out.” It seemed only right since she’d let herself in.

  “Thanks for the lunch.” Cole grinned up at her. “Safe travels.”

  “I got it!” Grinning with satisfaction, Lily sprang up from the seat, the broken skewer in her left hand. “And thanks for saving me the trip to the house. If I left this guy alone,” she waved over her shoulder at Cole, “who knows what else he’d break off trying to scratch the itch.”

  Poppy nodded at her sister, and with one hand on the door, considered the man on the sofa. Their mother was right. Sometimes fate showed a curious sense of humor.

  ***

  Bored with his book, Cole was pleased for an excuse to snap it shut. Today had been one heck of a day. Unexpected from dawn to dusk. Now, smiling at him, Lily approached with a dinner tray.

  Not an ugly one in the bunch was the first thought that came to mind. Cole had met Violet, Cindy, and now Poppy. Though no one would say that sizing up a woman in a few minutes was his strong suit—just ask anyone about his ex—he was still pretty sure they were all nice people. The same way he was sure Lily’s honest and caring nature was a rarity among modern day women living behind well-crafted facades.

  As if it wasn’t enough that she’d been serving him meals all day, the meat on his plate was cut up into small bite-size pieces. Though he felt like a toddler needing his mother to cut his food, not until he’d seen her handiwork had it dawned on him that for the next few weeks he would have to be a one-handed eater. “Where did you come up with frying steak like a chicken?” The last thing he needed while he was unable to exercise and burn calories was to be on a steady diet of fried foods and gluten heavy breads. His body must think he’d lost his mind. And yet, her eagerness to cook for him was…endearing.

  Lily lifted a forkful of gravy-smothered mashed potatoes. “Afraid I can’t take the credit for chicken fried steak. I first tried it during a trip to Houston for a cooking contest. Thought I’d died and gone to heaven. I have tweaked the white gravy recipe a bit, but not enough to lay claim to the concept.”

  He didn’t know about the heaven part, but she was on the right track with died. He could almost feel his arteries clogging just looking at the dish. It had been years since he’d eaten ordinary white potatoes, and he didn’t think he’d ever had anything even close to the white gravy smothered all over everything. Even the asparagus was smothered in the creamy sauce. Slowly sliding the first mouthful from his fork, he had to admit it wasn’t half bad. By the second bite it was pretty good and by the third bite he decided he might be in trouble.

  Under normal circumstances he would never have indulged in a meal like this. Though most of his buddies would work off the pizza calories and beer belly
carbs, he’d learned from a college girlfriend that eating green and lean made a man feel better. His career demanded he stay in better shape than the average male his age and the right diet and daily workouts guaranteed that. Of course, with the injuries to his arm, shoulder and ankle, hitting the gym wasn’t going be an option any time soon. Eating like this was definitely going to be a problem. Especially if everything she cooked tasted this good. He seriously needed to get out of here and go home. All he needed was to get through the night and tomorrow he’d figure out some excuse for heading back to his apartment.

  “I’ve made a treat for tonight. Spitzbuben.”

  “Spit Who?”

  Lily chuckled from deep down inside her, a rumbling that made him want to laugh too. “Spiitzzzbuuben,” she enunciated carefully.

  “Sounds like a disease.”

  “They’re German Christmas cookies.”

  “It’s not Christmas.”

  “No, but they’re my family’s favorite. I don’t make them often but I thought…” Her words trailed off.

  She thought she could make things better with cookies? He’d watched her working away in the kitchen the better part of the afternoon. Diligently pounding at dough, rolling it out flat and starting again all over. The entire time, intent on her job and yet he was acutely aware of her keeping one eye on him. No doubt the cookies were loaded with butter and sugar and all things bad for the human condition.

  A dirty dish in each hand, Lily carried them to the kitchen and came back to the sofa with a small plate stocked with tiny quarter-size cookies. Two coin-sized patties with jam-like filling in between. As if there wasn’t going to be enough sweeteners already to send his blood sugar soaring and his pancreas into insulin overload, the treats were covered in powdered sugar.

  At this point, with all the carbs and fats he’d consumed, one little cookie wasn’t going to kill him. Picking one up carefully between two fingers, almost as if having more skin to cookie contact would increase the venomous qualities, he quickly popped the single bite-size confection into his mouth.

  In seconds the plastic smile designed to hide his propensity to avoid sweets slipped. Tiny taste buds in every corner of his mouth did handsprings and back flips. These suckers were beyond amazing. It was all he could do to stop from moaning out loud. Had he ever had a cookie even close to this delicious? Beyond a doubt, this sucker was the cookie of all cookies. And he desperately wanted another.

  Looking up at the tentative sweet smile waiting for his approval, his stomach did a back flip of its own. If given half the chance, this woman could be as lethal as her Spits-who cookies.

  ***

  Years ago, Katie O’Leary had shared her grandmother’s secret cookie recipe with Lily. Not that Lily ever understood why a woman as Irish as the shamrock had a secret recipe for German cookies, but it didn’t matter. She’d been honored that Katie had shared it with her. She’d also never had anyone not like the holiday treats. Except maybe one. With every small crunch of his teeth, she waited for the tell-tale moan, smile, popping eyes. Something that told her how delighted the consumer was. Not Cole. His face remained free of all emotions. Rather than having his smile broaden as she’d expected, it fell completely by the wayside. Had she been too distracted keeping an eye on him? Over or under added an ingredient? Or, heaven forbid, the wrong ingredient all together?

  Her gaze shifted to the kitchen counters. This wasn’t her kitchen. Even so, surely she couldn’t have done anything as stupid as confusing salt and sugar. She turned her attention back to the man now swallowing slowly. When he seemed less than thrilled with dinner she thought for sure he’d love dessert. Yet he didn’t look any happier now.

  “That,” he blew out a breath, “was delicious.”

  Not till a smile as wide as the lake appeared on his face did she believe him. “Have another.”

  “No.” He shook his head and leaned back. “One is over my limit. Thank you.”

  “Oh.” One? She withdrew the dish and just to make sure, picked one up with her free hand to taste for herself. The moment her lips sealed shut, the sweet flavors danced in her mouth. They were perfect. Just as they should be. Something had to be wrong with that man.

  “Hello.” Without knocking, her grandfather waltzed into the room. Clearly he intended to personally enforce the no fraternizing rule. Her grandmother, Ralph, and several more of the town busybodies followed behind him.

  “So, you’re Lily’s firefighter.” The predatory grin on Nadine Baker’s face—ring leader for the unofficial Merry Widows Club—almost made Lily laugh. The startled spark in Cole’s eyes definitely pushed a burst of giggles from her.

  “Yes.” The General nodded, pointing to a narrow space along the window without any furniture in the way. “Let’s set the tables up over there.”

  “Tables?” Lily’s gaze fell to the folded card table at his side and the one beside Ralph.

  “We know Cole here shouldn’t be trucking up to the house so we brought the house to him. Well, at least the tables and the company.” Already on his way to the window, the General slid around Lily, not waiting for a response.

  Unable to read the thoughts bouncing around behind Cole’s steel gray eyes, she considered what an emotional rollercoaster today had been and testosterone heavy man or not, he had to be just as exhausted. Even if not emotionally, at least physically. “Can we have a rain check?

  “Rain check?” The General stopped midstride. “Why?”

  “Dear.” Her grandmother sidled up beside him, her hand on her husband’s shoulder. “It has been a very long day. Perhaps you can help our guest get ready for bed and let him get a good night’s sleep.”

  “Oh, of course.” Her grandfather beamed down at his wife with a devotion that words failed to describe. Had anyone else in the room said the same thing the General would have blustered and pushed his will on everyone. Not so with the woman he’d adored for almost all of his adult life. “Very good idea, dear.” Spinning about, his attention landed on Cole. “Let’s get you started.”

  “That won’t be necessary, sir.” Cole pointed to the scooter parked at the foot of the sofa. “I can get around well enough with that.”

  A deep furrow between his brows, the General studied the contraption then turned his gaze on Cole’s injuries. The frown remained intent. Lily could see the thoughts spinning in his mind. She imagined he was calculating the repercussions of walking out that door and leaving Cole with only her for any assistance. She knew the moment he’d made up his mind. A brief nod dipped his chin against his neck. “I’m sure in your condition you’ll sleep like a log tonight. We will see you in the morning.”

  “Wouldn’t that be nice,” Nadine practically purred.

  Once again, the wide-eyed surprise on Cole’s face had Lily covering her mouth with her hand to hide her amusement. She didn’t know what was more entertaining, seeing the cougar side of Nadine, a woman almost old enough to be her grandmother, or the flash of shock on Cole’s face.

  “Tomorrow morning, sir,” Cole responded naturally. Chain of command in the fire department and chain of command in the military had to be much the same.

  “Very well.” Grams placed a light kiss on her cheek and added a gentle reassuring pat on the arm before slipping away.

  The crowd slowly ushered out. The door closed and locked behind them, once again it was Lily and Cole alone in the small cabin. In the dark of night. She thought back on the stubborn man, wincing in discomfort as he’d maneuvered himself into the bathroom earlier this afternoon. Stripping out of his jeans, one footed and one handed, might be more of a problem than she’d considered a few minutes ago. Maybe she’d been a little hasty hurrying her grandfather out the door.

  Chapter Eight

  The last traces of dinner cleaned up and put away, Lily sat in a comfy chair, pretending to read, and watching her guest, or patient, doze off on the sofa. She was glad he had a propensity for cat naps, which made her assigned task of not letting him sleep too
long easier. The scooter had been the best suggestion Violet could have made. Lily couldn’t begin to imagine how hard moving from room to room would have been for him. Or how much help she could have been.

  His pills remained on the coffee table. He might be a precision freak, but she was pretty sure the bottles hadn’t been touched all day. Shifting in place, his bad arm brushed against the sofa back, a low moan eased into more of a whimper behind a slow grimace.

  Coming to her feet, she padded to his side and gently tapped his arm.

  Immediately his eyes flew open and he sprang up, this time growling and grabbing the injured arm.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “You didn’t. I’ve been conditioned to wake easily and fast. Usually jumping up first and asking questions later isn’t so…challenging.”

  Lily reached behind her and grabbed a pill bottle. “These are for pain?”

  “As needed.”

  “Have you taken one?”

  “Don’t need them.”

  She stared at him a moment, considering the best way to phrase this. Hardly knowing the man, she didn’t have a clue how he’d react to her telling him what to do. “Perhaps it would help take the edge off that challenge.”

  “No.” He swung his legs off the side, gingerly resting the bad foot on the floor. “Thank you, but no.”

  The peaceful lull of the last few hours had her forgetting about his stubborn side. “Very well.” She returned them to the spot on the table. “It’s getting late. Would you like a snack before bed?”

  The way his eyes circled round, anyone would have thought she’d asked if he’d like a cyanide pill. “No, thank you. I’m still full from dinner.”

  “Well, I thought I would do some baking tonight to take over to the Inn.”

  “The Inn?”

  Until this moment she hadn’t realized they’d had almost no personal conversation. If the house wasn’t full of people, or she wasn’t in the kitchen cooking, then he was dozing on the sofa. “I bake for the Hilltop Inn. I was on my way to work this morning when… when…well.”