“Of course. My granny wouldn’t dare let any of us down.” Katie scanned the kitchen quickly. “Where’s that hunky fireman?”
“It was decided the best thing for our progress was to send the General away. It’s Cole’s assignment to keep him busy for a few more hours.”
“He can keep me away any time he wants.” Katie wiggled her brows and shimmied in place. Maybe they’d been pushing too long and too hard, but every woman in the place broke down laughing.
“You’d better keep your mind off Lily’s fireman—”
“He’s not my fireman,” Lily huffed.
“—and on those pecans!” Lucy finished without skipping a beat.
Katie rolled her eyes and shut the lid on the pecans. “You have to know I’m teasing, Lucy. I wouldn’t pilfer Lily’s fireman—”
“He’s not my fireman,” Lily repeated a little more loudly
“What I don’t understand,” ignoring Lily’s whiny input, Katie continued, “is how Cole is out with the General when he’s supposed to be off his feet.”
“Special dispensation,” Grams called from her seat. “Besides, Lily’s young man gets around so well on the scooty thing that I’m thinking it might be nice to have around here.”
“He’s not my young…” Lily let the words fade away. What was the point? No one was going to believe her, and after last night, maybe she didn’t believe herself either.
***
Every moment spent with the General, Cole fought the need to stand at attention. The man was friendly and even funny, but no matter how many jokes he told, the air around them crackled with the words: Retired Marine General.
“Does anyone know Floyd’s real name?” Cole asked softly of the man across the checker board from him. Most residents of Lawford Mountain knew the barber shop story. Due to its parallels with the nineteen sixties sitcom, Floyd’s barber shop had a reputation that kept people coming through the doors. When Floyd sold it years ago, the owner not only kept the business name, he adopted the owner’s name for his own.
The General shook his head. “Nope.” With a big grin on his face, Lily’s grandfather jumped over several pieces and took the last of Cole’s pieces. This was the fourth game in a row he’d lost. Either he was worse at checkers now than when he was five years old, or he was incredibly distracted. Considering his mind had been on Lily, last night and this morning, wondering how her day was progressing, and batting around ideas for her dream, distraction hit the nail on the head.
“Doesn’t look like she almost killed you.” Floyd’s words drifted over his customer’s head.
Once again, thinking of Lily, Cole had lost the thread of the conversation.
“Twice,” the General added. “Would have thought my girls had more sense.”
Floyd’s hands froze mid snip. “Twice?”
Seated nearby kibitzing the checkers game, Ralph leaned forward. “Poisoned him.”
“She did not.” The words came out more harshly than Cole had intended. “I’m allergic to sesame.”
“See.” Ralph sat back. “She poisoned him.”
“It was not her fault,” Cole defended.
“But she did run you down with her car?” Floyd looked at him over the rim of his glasses.
“She did not run me down.” Not exactly. “I sort of hit her car.”
Lifting his gaze from the board, the General’s eyes narrowed. “You hit her?”
“Sort of.” He hadn’t expected folks talking about Lily like she was some kind of incompetent klutz to bother him so much.
“Sort of,” the General repeated. Something in the way the man studied Cole left him uneasy.
“I was jogging in the dark,” he explained. “Early in the morning. Very early.”
The General continued to stare.
“Well, if you ask me,” Ralph closed the magazine he held in his hands, “no matter how you look at it, you’re lucky to be alive.”
That was true in more ways than one. Not in terms of getting away with only a few inconvenient injuries, or overcoming his allergic reaction, but being here and now, in this time and place with Lily Nelson. Yeah, for the first time in a long time, he’d say that was especially lucky.
The next few games flew by much the way the previous ones had, the General wiping the board with him.
Floyd brushed the neck of his last customer, placed the cash into the old-fashioned ornate register, and smiled. “That’s it, fellas. Time to close up and go home.”
Cole hadn’t heard a word from Lily nor had anyone at the house reached out to the General. Following the cliché no news is good news, he had to assume all was well. What he didn’t know was if it was a good time to return. “What do you say if we take a little stroll down Main Street?”
The General shook his head. “Not with that foot you’re not.”
So distracted, Cole had actually forgotten about his injuries. “I can roll down the street?” His levity fell flat on the older man.
“It’s time we get home to check on the women.” The General pushed to his feet.
Cole nodded. What more could he say or do? Like a good soldier, he covered the short distance to the car, slid into the seat while the General stowed his scooter, and debated whether or not to interrupt Lily with a text.
“I understand you went with my granddaughter to look at the shop.” The General pulled the car onto Main Street. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s a great location.”
“Mm,” the General grunted.
“It would be a shame if she didn’t grab the opportunity.”
“Mm,” the General repeated.
“After all, she’s a great baker.” Cole wondered how much more could he say to carry this conversation all the way back to the house.
The General cracked a smile. “That she is.”
Silence hung as they approached the section of town near the potential bakery.
“So, you think she can do it?” The General slowed the car as he drove by.
Cole nodded. “I do. It will be easier with help from her friends.”
The General looked to him and raised a single questioning brow. “Which friends might those be?”
At this point he wasn’t quite sure what would be the correct answer, but it was definitely safe to say if nothing else, he and Lily were now friends. “Me, for one.”
“For one?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “I’m pretty handy with power tools.”
“Mm,” the General grunted again and Cole couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing.
“And,” he continued, “my buddies at the firehouse. Everyone has a specialty.”
The older man didn’t say anything. Pulling to a stop, he put the car in park, dropped his hands over the top of the steering wheel and stared up at the soon to be vacant building. “All I’ve ever wanted is for my daughters and now my granddaughters to be healthy, productive, and happy.” His head bobbed. “As I put on the years, and things…change, happy seems to tip the scales.”
Cole nodded, unsure if he should speak, wondering what things had changed.
“My Fiona is my world.” He continued to stare at the building in front of them. “Made staying alive worthwhile so I could come home to her. Did a better than fine job of raising our girls. Oh, I was home from time to time, but all the credit for the women they are goes to my Fiona.”
Again, Cole nodded even though the man wasn’t looking at him.
“I would hate for any of my girls to pick the wrong man. A man who didn’t believe in them.”
Even though Lily’s grandfather wasn’t looking directly at him, Cole had the distinct feeling this momentary walk down memory lane was very specifically aimed at him.
“Of course, as long as God’s willing, any man who doesn’t do right by her will have to answer to me.” Now the General leaned straighter and turned to face Cole. “Though I might let his own grandfather have a crack at him first.”
Before Cole
could respond, the General had turned away, shifted the car into reverse, and pulled onto the road. For some reason, Cole had the distinct impression something very important had just happened between them, but for the life of him, he couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly just went down.
Chapter Eighteen
Scanning her surroundings, Lily took in the different workstations in her grandmother’s massive kitchen and dining room and smiled. They’d accomplished a lot. She’d been on her feet all day and feared if she sat for even a moment’s rest, she’d never get back up again. “I’ll put these in the fridge in the Sycamore Cabin and check on Katie.”
“Good thing I thought to thaw a couple of casseroles.” Lucy dried her hands on her apron. “Not going to be cooking supper in here tonight.”
Callie yawned. “I’ll set the tables on the veranda. Dining room is otherwise occupied.”
Anything that hadn’t needed to be refrigerated was left on the dining room table to be packaged for transport. Mostly the chocolate and pecan cookies.
“Did anyone remember to tell Cindy to pick up corn syrup?” Poppy set a clean pot back on the stove. The number of items that required warming, melting, or blending over a fire had kept them steadily cleaning pots and pans all afternoon.
“I did.” Wielding her spatula with the practiced precision of a woman who had been doing this for hours, Grams moved the gluten free shells for the pumpkin spice tartlettes from the cooling rack onto a freshly washed cookie sheet.
Everything was coming together. Lily’s cheeks lifted with satisfaction. She hadn’t been all that sure she could actually pull this off and if her calculations were correct, she was actually ahead of schedule. Enough so that she might be able to catch a few hours sleep tonight. That was if she could actually get any sleep. Despite the last-minute stress, this entire situation had her feeling more excited than she’d been since packing to leave for Paris.
With the refrigerators at the main house already full, she lifted the tray of cream puffs to take to another cabin for storage. She’d only taken a few steps when Lady and Sarge took off from their corners in the kitchen, practically sliding across the kitchen floor toward the front door. Clearly, the General was home. Her heart did a little jig. If her grandfather was home, so was Cole. And that tugged the satisfied smile on her face into a full-blown grin. Had she ever been happier than this very minute?
“Whoa.” The General came to a stop at the kitchen door. “You have been busy.”
Cole came rolling up beside him. His gaze immediately landed on Lily. Eyes twinkling, the corners of his mouth tipped upward in a familiar smile. Her heart stuttered before continuing its happy dance.
Her mind drifted back in time, to last night and the way her lips tingled against his, then to this morning curled up safe beside the man currently grinning at her like she’d hung the moon. As happy as she was in her element baking up a storm, the truth was, what had her happier than a pig in slop right now wasn’t the chance to prove herself to the resort and the governor’s guests, or the chance at the bakery of her dreams. Heaven help her, she was more than happily falling in love with the man she’d almost killed—twice.
“Hi,” Cole said from across the kitchen.
“Hi,” she murmured back.
His gaze shifted to take in the surroundings. Remnants of powdered sugar and flour floating about, piles of pans and baking sheets, and a handful of women scurrying over one thing or another, the place must look a mess to him.
“Need some help?” he asked.
Dogs at his side, the General shook his head. “I don’t think this kitchen will ever be the same.” Without waiting for an answer, he took a step closer to his wife and planted a brief but branding kiss on her lips.
“Might as well make yourselves useful.” Lucy waved her arm in the direction of the side veranda. “Callie is setting the card tables for supper. Why don’t you both go see what she needs.”
The General nodded. Tapping his toe behind him, he did a full military turn and walked back into the hall. Both dogs on his heels, he almost collided with Katie.
“Oh, excuse me, General.” Katie took a step back and looked up at Lily. “Fridge in my cabin is almost full. How many more trays do we have?”
Lily held up the one in her hands. “This is the last one for now.”
“Great. I’ll take it.” Katie retrieved the tray of cream puffs.
“Hurry back,” Lucy called over her shoulder. “We’ll be stopping to sit down for dinner in a couple of minutes.”
“While normally I’d be drooling over a chance to break bread with all you fine people, my feet and back are begging for a comfortable chair and a good ole Irish Coffee.”
“Oh, of course.” How foolish of Lily not to have suggested Katie go home after she’d helped with her secret pecan recipe. The turtle cheesecake bites had turned out to die for, and then Katie had moved on to helping with the cream puffs. Lily could just stab herself with a fork for being so inconsiderate. She reached out to retrieve the last tray of cream puffs.
“Don’t be silly, girl. You’ve still got plenty to keep you busy. I’ll just be putting this in the old fridge and then going along my way. Whistle if you need more help tomorrow.” With a wink and a dimpled grin, Katie whirled around and out the door.
Suddenly, for the first time today, Lily didn’t know what to do with herself. Turning in place, she caught sight of Cole still grinning at her, and her insides warmed from her pounding head to her toasty toes. At least one thing was perfectly clear to her momentarily addled brain. Standing in the middle of the kitchen staring at her fireman was definitely not the right thing to do. Her fireman. Another grin threatened to take over her face. She really liked the sound of that. Her fireman.
***
Something had shifted and the last thing Cole wanted to do now was analyze the bejeesus out of how he felt.
“You,” the General leaned back, a hand scratching the top of each dog’s head, “should go to your cabin and get off your feet.”
Cole refrained from the obvious retort of “I am off my feet.” Technically, he had not been on his feet all day—his knee, yeah—but not on his feet.
“He’s right.” Callie stood, picking up the dirty dishes. “Moving about all day is going to set your recovery back.”
There was no sense in arguing. His foot was feeling much more inclined to agree with her than it might have been earlier this morning, and yet he didn’t want to leave Lily with so much work still to do. Not that there was much he could do to help. Actually, nothing at all he could do. With this stupid scooter, he’d only get in the way.
“We’d better get back to work.” Poppy stood. “There’s more to do.”
Somehow, in the bustle of the Hart clan clearing the table, dealing with dirty dishes, and Lily sorting through another round of checklists, Cole found himself propped in an easy chair with one of the General’s murder mysteries. A comfy chair that Lily had insisted on dragging into the kitchen when, after a good ten minutes of debate, he’d refused to go home and lie down. Several added cushions kept his leg resting up high. The best it had felt for hours.
Watching whirlwind Lily was amazing. The second nature with which she whipped, beat, folded, molded, and kneaded fascinated him. She moved around the kitchen like a dancer on stage. Elegant and fluid. Sure, he’d seen her putzing around the kitchen at his cabin, but this was different. It was a little window into what her world would be like when she ran her own bakery.
Hands on either side of her lower back, Lucy stretched left then right. “I think it’s time for another pot of coffee.”
Lily looked up, almost as though she’d forgotten Lucy was even there.
“Oh, that sounds wonderful.” Callie rolled her shoulders.
At that moment, Poppy came in the door from the dining room workstation carrying two trays stacked precariously in her hands. “This is the last of my batch.”
All heads glanced up at the large anal
og rooster clock over the sink, but it was Lily’s eyes that popped open. “Oh, wow. I didn’t realize how late it is.” She dipped the last of the mini éclairs into the chocolate and set them on the tray. “This is a good place to stop for the night.”
Lucy stretched and leaned. “Works for me.”
“What’s left I can handle in the morning—”
“You mean we.” Callie propped her hands on her hips and the others nodded their agreement.
“We.” She smiled. “But there’s just a few last minute touches and the oatmeal cookies should be it.”
“Oatmeal?” Poppy asked.
Lily shrugged. “Apparently it’s an eclectic group.”
The order had been taped to the refrigerator doors for all to see. Every so often Lily would pause and look it over and scribble on the margins. By now anyone helping knew exactly what had been done and what was missing.
“If you ask me someone fell asleep at the wheel deciding on the cookies. I mean,” Lucy rolled her eyes, “Who orders frosted malt-chocolate cookies and then throws in oatmeal raisin?”
“The Governor’s niece,” multiple voices said in unison.
“I’m with Lucy.” Cole set the book aside. Not that he’d actually read much. “They should have gone for something special like your spitzenthingy cookies.”
“Spitzbuben?” Lily supplied.
“Yeah.” Cole smiled at the mere memory of the sweets. “They’re absolutely the best.”
“You know,” Lucy waved a hand at Lily, “you did make a double batch the other day. I bet if you gifted the wedding with some extra cookies, no one would complain.”
“And lots of people would be introduced to your cookie!” If he could stand on his own two feet, Cole would have kissed Lucy for the idea.
The way Lily’s eyes widened under crinkled brows, he didn’t think she agreed with either of them. “If you hadn’t been gone with the General most of the day I would have said you’ve spent too much time near the hot ovens.”
“It’s a good idea,” he said.
Lily Page 14
