A hint of a smile pulled to one side of his mouth. “That would explain the frock.”
“Yes, I suppose it would.” Usually she called it a jacket, but to some it might seem a frock.
“Do you always bake from here?”
“No. But under the circumstances, I’d rather not leave. I’ll have to run over to Hart House for the ingredients, but I won’t be long.”
“Hart House? Not the grocery store?”
She shook her head. “No. Lucy will have everything I need and any store close enough to just pop over at this hour won’t.”
“I see.” Pulling the scooter closer to him and lifting off the sofa, he leaned heavily on the contraption. He was definitely tired. “You don’t have to change your routine for me. You can go home now. I’ll be fine.”
“Not the agreement.”
“Agreement?”
“With the doctor. You were not coming home to be left alone.” She inched forward. “Do you need some help?”
His head turned from side to side. “Nope. I can handle anything I need to do with my left hand.
“Okay.” She nodded but watched very closely as he worked his way toward the bedroom.
Not wanting to look too conspicuous, she plopped herself down by the island. She’d been making a short list when the bedroom door inched open and Cole proceeded into the bathroom. So far, so good. Another few minutes passed and she wondered how long it takes a wounded man to get ready for bed. She didn’t hear running water coming from down the hall, so what was taking him so darn long? She managed a few more notes and glances back and forth before the bathroom door eased open.
“I, uh, may have lied.” The voice drifted down the hall before the door had been fully extended and she could see inside. “I think I need some help after all.”
The sight of strong fireman Cole McIntyre twisted up in a t-shirt, his head half sticking out, the other half twisted in cotton had her quickly covering her mouth to hide her amusement. “Off or on?”
“On. Off was manageable. Though it makes no sense why on would be any worse, but for some reason it is.”
She didn’t believe for a minute it had been that easy. Stepping into the confined space, she eased the shirt off again. “Let’s start over. It might be simpler that way.”
“At this point, I’ll try anything.”
“We don’t have to be that drastic.” She could see the frustration taking over his face, the way his skin tensed under her touch. “Or maybe not.” She chuckled.
“Not as easy as it looks?”
It would have been much easier if his arms weren’t the size of a small baked ham. She maneuvered one way then the other, extremely careful not to jar the bad shoulder and giving it one good yank, the thing slipped away from his head. Holding the t-shirt in her hand, she looked down at the offending cloth. Definitely not as easy as it looked—in so many ways.
***
“Okay.” Eyes crossed and her cheeks puffed out just before her mouth twisted to one side, Lily blew at a loose strand of hair. She looked intent, focused, ridiculous, and incredibly likeable. At least Cole certainly thought so.
“First things first,” she continued. “Do you by any chance have a button-down shirt?”
He shook his head. Who brings a button-down shirt for a week’s stay at a rustic cabin by the water?
“Do you have anything bigger?”
“My workout shirts are double extra large.”
Confusion clouded her gaze.
“I don’t like to feel constrained when I’m doing a workout,” he explained.
“Got it.” That smile he was getting used to had returned. “Where do you keep it?”
He rolled back an inch or so to clear a path. “I’ll get it.”
Immediately, her hand shot out, grabbing his arm and stilling his plans. The touch was light, firm, ordinary and yet extra-ordinary. Her gaze locked with his and for a fraction of a moment, he simply couldn’t have dragged his eyes away if the entire Marine Corps had insisted. How could the touch of a woman he knew not even twenty-four hours leave him so totally stunned?
“I, uh,” she took a step back, “will get your shirt for you.”
“Second drawer.”
She nodded, backed out of the doorway and reappeared with an oversized t-shirt in hand.
“This should be easier. The neckline is even stretched.”
“I can handle it this time.” He wasn’t all sure he wanted to risk having her near him again.
“Don’t be silly.” Blowing the same lock of hair that insisted on lying across her cheek, she rearranged the fabric, the sleeve taut between her hands. “Let’s start with the bad arm. That’s the one thing that cannot be twisted around in a wrestling match.”
By the time he’d taken a few seconds to decipher exactly what she’d said, he found his bad arm carefully slipped into the sleeve of the shirt and gently nestled against him before she pulled the shirt over his head and then waited for him to slide his good arm into the other sleeve.
“And there you go.” A smile bloomed as wide and satisfied as when Payton had proposed after tasting her baking.
“Thanks.” From where he stood, the hall back to the living room looked a mile long and then some. As much as he hated to admit it, he was wiped out. The best thing for him would be a good night sleep. Tomorrow he’d be feeling more like his old self.
At least, that was his story and he was sticking to it. He hoped.
***
Lily waited until Cole was settled into his room and his eyes had fallen shut to run over to the main house. Nearing Hart House along the path, she could hear laughter coming from inside. The porch or enclosed veranda, depending on weather, had been the true heart of her grandparents’ home. Friends, neighbors and guests could always leave their cares behind for a few hours, either seated at the card tables or swaying on the ancient, well-loved rockers.
Tonight she was too tired to even pass through the group for casual chit chat. Not to mention there was no such thing as quick on a card night. Common courtesy would have her visiting for a good long while and she didn’t want to leave Cole alone for long, even if he did seem to be resting peacefully. Instead of facing the friendly gauntlet, she slid into the house from the kitchen door off the rear porch. In only a few minutes she’d bagged all the ingredients she needed and was on her way back to the cabin.
Veering right down the front hall, she peeked inside Cole’s room. Pillows propped under his ankle, flat on his back, he was still sound asleep. Good, he needed his rest. So did she.
Tomorrow’s cinnamon cranberry bread for the Inn wouldn’t be her usual spread of baked choices, but at least the guests wouldn’t be disappointed with only ordinary bread or English muffins. The Inn counted on her for unique breakfast treats and she didn’t want to disappoint.
Making room on the small counter space, she was reminded why she didn’t bake from home. Her mind also wandered to the storefront on Main Street. She’d kill for a chance to walk though it and get a better idea of the space. For years she’d had a general picture of how she wanted her kitchen laid out in her own bakery. If she had more money saved. If she could come up with one extra-ordinary item. If this had only happened in another year or two... If, if, if. What was it her grandmother always said, if I had wheels I’d be a car.
Mid-knead, a soft sound seemed to come from down the hall. She stilled, listening. Nothing more. Maybe it was the wind, or a prowling cat, or, heaven help her, a mouse. Though mice didn’t moan. Neither did cats. Wiping her hands on a nearby kitchen towel, she padded down the hall, inched the door open and peeked in.
Cole had rolled to his side. His face pinched, his bad arm hung low and the pillows were less under him and more beside him. This wasn’t going to work. What was called for was a sturdier cushion. Like from the sofa. What she had to figure out was how to get them under his ankle without waking him.
Trotting off to the living room, she grabbed a few cushions and hurrie
d back to his room. The pain must have been too much even in his sleep. He’d turned over again onto his back and his face looked more relaxed. Careful to be quiet, she stood at the foot of the bed and considered her problem, afraid to actually lift his ankle with her hand for fear she’d hurt him or wake him up. The last thing she needed now was to explain why she was manhandling him in his sleep.
The best option meant lifting the top pillow his foot rested on, and quickly pull the other two pillows out from under him, and toss them to the floor. Forcing her lungs to release air, she paused a moment, noticing he didn’t seem to feel her presence, and proceeded to glide the larger cushion underneath. The size and heavy fabric against the sheet would be less likely to slip around than the pillows.
Gently, she lowered his foot and waited for any response. Nothing. He didn’t budge, didn’t moan, didn’t wake up. Mission accomplished. Had he been awake it would have been a fifteen minute battle over letting her help. The man was awfully stubborn. But she had to admit he was pretty nice too. Not that he’d done any grand gestures or anything, nor could he in his condition, but he’d yet to grumble or complain or point out that she was the reason he was in pain and uncomfortable. He’d not brought it up at all and that made him a nice guy in her book. Too bad she hadn’t met him the way normal people do. She was pretty sure she’d like having Cole McIntyre as a friend.
Chapter Nine
Absolutely nothing about this morning had gone the way Lily expected. First, her plans of slipping out the door while Cole remained sleeping to deliver the breads flew by the wayside as soon as he crawled out of bed only minutes after she did. Why she’d thought he would sleep in, she didn’t know. It was only reasonable. She had, after all, hit the man jogging at this forsaken hour of the morning only twenty-four hours ago.
The way she’d looked at it, she had two choices: call Barb to ask her to pop by and pick up the ready to bake pans, or wake one of her sisters to come and fireman-sit. Focused on the phone tightly gripped in one hand, a loud rapping against her kitchen window knocked the breath out of her. The unexpected face pressed against the glass had her nearly jumping out of her shoes. Good thing she didn’t have anything breakable in her hands or it might have gone flying across the room.
To rise and shine before the sun was a habit her grandfather had no intention of breaking. Her grandma might be able to take the General out of the Marine Corps, but there was no taking the Marine Corps out of the General. At least she had someone to watch over Cole while she ran to the Inn.
The good thing about leaving a former Marine General in charge was that Cole didn’t dare argue. Holding her breath and hurrying as quickly as she could without hitting anyone else on the road to work, she did her best to slip in and out of the kitchen at the Inn, but what was it they said about the best laid plans of mice and men?
“There you are.” Barb Miller came running in from the front hall, tying an apron behind her back. “Margo’s daughter has a slight fever so it’s just us this morning.”
Just us? Lily’s gaze darted to the clock over the doorway.
“Oh good.” Barb scanned the two trays Lily had brought. “Everyone loves your breads.”
“I brought a strudel too. For the guests with more of a sweet tooth.”
Having worked together for a few years now, Barb didn’t need to wait for instructions, she was already sorting the pans and setting oven temps and timers. “How is your young fireman doing?”
“He’s not mine.”
“Of course he isn’t.” Over her shoulder, Barb shot Lily a grin that did nothing to add to the veracity of her agreement.
“I’ll help get these started while you set the table, but I won’t be able to stay through breakfast.”
Famous last words. The Inn was full and there was no way Barb could handle the baking and the cooking and the inn keeping on her own. Long after she’d intended, Lily finally made it back to the lake, and rushing down the cobbled path, she almost went flying face first across a tray of begonias waiting to be planted. Who the heck left them sitting there? Had the small flowers been here all night?
Brushing herself off, she hurried into the cabin. Not that she feared any harm would come to Cole under her grandfather’s watchful eye, she just wasn’t so sure what the man might say to him, especially about there being easier ways for Lily to catch a man than mowing him down.
Her grandfather’s deep voice carried across the small space. The words stones, copycat and not anymore told her the retired general was explaining about the building of the point. How after one of the neighbors tried to outdo the manmade land extension one of her greats had built by hand, the lake planning commission had changed the rules to prohibit more land masses from jetting out into the beautiful waterway.
“Oh, you’re back.” Her grandmother’s voice grabbed Lily’s attention away from the older man seated across from her guest and drew it to the injured fireman.
His arms up like a referee’s goal hand signal, Cole sat catawampus, one foot on the floor, and one foot elevated on the sofa, helping Grams ball up her yarn. He looked ridiculous, seriously intent, and absolutely adorable.
“Sorry I’m late,” Lily muttered.
“We’re just about finished here.” Her grandmother smiled up at Lily and turned to her husband. “I think I’d like to add another shade or two to the pattern. Would you be able to give me a lift?”
Unlike most times when her grandfather would respond quickly in the affirmative of whatever his wife had asked him, this time the General frowned slightly, shifting his gaze from Lily to Cole and back to his wife. “Nora’s?”
“Yes, dear.” Fiona Hart wound the last strand around the massive ball, leaving Cole’s hands free once again.
The General cast his glance back and forth, the furrow between his brows set deep, his lips pressed tightly. For the first time that she could remember, Lily felt sure her grandfather was going to deny Grams her request in order to remain as chaperone.
On a resigned sigh, the General eased the crease between his bushy brows and nodded. “I’m ready when you are.”
It only took her grandmother another couple of minutes to gather her latest project, whatever it might be, into her bag and stand up, ready to move on.
“If you need anything,” the General spoke to Cole, “anything at all, make sure to call the main house. Lucy will gladly come running.”
Lily nodded. “I will.” The family housekeeper and cook had been around since before she or any of her cousins were born. Lily didn’t doubt that Lucy would entertain a viper for the good of the family. Of course, she’d probably sing an entire chorus from Hello Dolly first, but by gosh she’d be there for everyone.
At the front door, the General cast his gaze around the room one more time. “Remember—”
“If you’re not home yet, call the house for help. Got it. Really, I do.”
“Harold,” Grams called from up the walkway.
The General nodded at Lily and pulled the door shut behind him.
“You don’t think he’s still stuck on that fraternization thing, do you?” Cole asked, studying the front door intently.
“I honestly haven’t the slightest idea.” She actually didn’t have a clue to a lot of things at the moment. From the incapacitated fireman in her charge, to the missing signature item for her dream job, to the General’s odd behavior, Lily decided there was only one solution. Bake.
***
The more Cole tried to figure out what was going on around him, the more he decided Alice in Wonderland had nothing on him. He might as well have fallen down a rabbit hole.
“Well.” Lily slapped her hands together and rubbed vigorously. “Hungry?”
Cole shook his head. “Your grandfather made us all eggs and bacon.”
Eyes wide with surprise, Lily paused mid-step and gaped at him. “My grandfather?”
“Yes. He, uh, seemed to know his way around the kitchen.”
“My grandfather? General
Hart?” she repeated.
“Does he not cook often?”
“Often?” Lily tipped her head and continued on path to the kitchen. “I don’t remember ever seeing him cook in my entire life. At least not anything more than marshmallows over the fire.”
Right now, if he had two good feet, Cole would have been on them and following Lily into the kitchen. Little more than a day of rest and he’d had enough.
“Looks like my grandfather has many hidden talents.” She lifted a paper towel off the dish of leftover bacon. “He cleans up pretty well too.”
“I imagine he wasn’t always a general.”
Lily laughed. “No, I suppose not, but I doubt he’s had to clean a kitchen since his days at Annapolis.”
He doubted the old guy would have had kitchen duty there either. Tired of lying on the sofa, Cole spun around, setting his feet on the ground.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Lily pinned him with a narrowed gaze.
He didn’t know, but he was sure there was only one answer that she couldn’t object to. “The bathroom. Is that okay?”
“Oh, of course.” She maneuvered around the tiny island. “I’ll help.”
“Really?” He bit back a smile. It wasn’t easy. The way her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink tugged at the smile center in his brain.
“I mean, uh, you know, getting there.”
“I’ll be fine.”
It took her a moment to nod and turn back to the refrigerator. Now that he’d committed, he made a quiet show of easily standing and riding the scooter to the bathroom and then back again. “So what do people do for entertainment around here?”
That pretty splash of pink filled her cheeks again. “Lots of things.”
“Such as? Because it’s not watch TV. I thought everyone in the world had cable or satellite.”
Lily Page 7
