by Nicole Helm
“You...canned all that?” Eli asked, surprising her by showing any interest in what she was doing.
“Yeah. Becca has this big garden and it was all but overrun when I got here. I cleaned it up, harvested what I could, and canned what couldn’t be eaten right away. Why are you looking me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m some kind of evil troll.”
He went back to focusing on his eggs. “I was thinking more along the lines of evil fairy.”
“Well, that’s very kind of you to upgrade me to fairy.”
“Too colorful to be a troll,” he muttered.
“Come over here.”
He followed instructions again, never arguing with them but never looking less than irritated to do them. She supposed soldiers were used to taking orders, and that’s why he took them. But he’d been out of the military long enough that at least some of how he felt about that showed on his face.
She handed him a couple jars since she couldn’t carry everything she wanted. “Put those over by my station. Man, it’s nice having an extra set of hands.”
Nice hands. Big hands. And those frustrated, piercing dark eyes to go with it.
Uh oh. Watch yourself, Armstrong.
She was not going to develop a crush on this guy. Or any of the men. Most especially because that’s what Jack seemed to think of her and she was damn well going to prove him wrong.
But a friend could notice another friend’s biceps, couldn’t they?
“You seem to know a lot about princesses and fairies,” she said, forcing cheer into her voice as she stepped down from the stool.
“I do have a sister,” he said, putting the jars next to her bowl then moving back to his.
“Do you?” Third thing I didn’t know about you before, sucker. “What’s her name?”
“Grimhilde,” he said deadpan.
Vivian rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help smiling. “Eli and Grimhilde. Is that all the siblings you have?”
“Is Jack the only brother you have?”
She knew what he was doing. Trying to change the subject, but that was okay. She didn’t mind talking on and on. Eventually he’d break. No one wanted to only hear someone else talk and never offer some information of their own. “Nope. I have another brother. But Jack’s my favorite.”
“Are you allowed to have favorite brothers?”
“You are when one sleeps with the other one’s fiancee and gets her pregnant.”
That got Eli’s attention, and she was gratified to see some real surprise cross Eli’s expression. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Yeah, my brother Mike slept with Jack’s fiancee when Jack was deployed. Madison got pregnant. Mike’s a dick. So, Jack’s my favorite. In fairness, Rose is a way better wife than Madison ever would have been, but you know, doesn’t make them less jerks for what they did to Jack.”
“Huh,” was Eli’s only response.
Vivian frowned at that. She was hoping for a little more reaction. Interest. Interaction.
She got nothing. So after that she chattered on and got no responses from him as she made the muffins, showed him how to make the big batch of eggs in the oven. She showed him how to set up the buffet chafers while she finished up the food. He handled the coffee and juice.
For her, it was nice to have someone to talk to. She would have preferred someone who would talk back, but she could get there. Eventually. She had two months to break him.
She’d have him chattering himself by Thanksgiving. She was sure of it.
“You can go eat. Clean up is at seven. Which we do until we’re done. Then we start lunch prep at ten. Clean up is from one to whenever we’re done. Dinner prep starts at different times, but you can just always come at four and I’ll put you to work. Clean up is always done by seven. And that’s pretty much the gist of it.”
“I have my therapy session at two.”
“Especially during clean up, feel free to leave whenever you need to. If we’re cooking, just let me know. It’s not a real job. You can come and go as you please.” She stepped back and eyed the entire breakfast set up as the first soldiers began to straggle in.
“This was great. Thanks, Eli. I appreciate the help.”
He shrugged and left without saying anything else. She frowned after him. “I’m going to get to you, Eli. One of these days, I am going to wear you down.”
It was her personal mission now.
*
Eli was surprised to find he didn’t mind the kitchen work. There was a routine to it that steadied him. It wasn’t really like working with the animals. Sure, you might accidentally get some shell in the eggs or scorch the bacon, but it wasn’t like a cow making a run for it, or a calf birth gone wrong. The mistakes were small potatoes. Literally.
As Thanksgiving approached, Vivian started to include him in the plans. So casually, so stealthily, he hadn’t realized he’d told her some of his favorites until she showed him her menu.
How had she snuck that out of him? How had he come to...enjoy the work in the kitchen?
He stomped the snow from his boots on the big rug she’d set out at the door. It was utilitarian, but somehow she’d found a useful rug that also had a big turkey on it.
“Next week I’ll have some more help. I’m counting Rose out on account of the belly, but she’ll probably argue. Becca and her mom will help, especially with the pies. Becca’s mom makes a great pie. Monica will lend a hand and Colin will be our grunt worker. Peeling potatoes and the like. It’ll make a tight kitchen, but we’ve got almost twice the amount of people to feed. Are your parents coming?”
She asked it so casually, so caught up in her plans, she didn’t catch his wince. Good thing, too. “No.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She looked up from her notebook and reached out—he’d come to realize she did that without thinking. A hand or shoulder pat. An elbow nudge. It was a part of her, and how she treated everyone in her orbit. She rested her hand on his shoulder. “Parents can be a touchy subject.”
He wanted to shrug it off, but he knew that would make her read too much into something that wasn’t touchy at all. “Not touchy. They’re just dead.”
“Eli. Jeez. I’m sorry.” Her green eyes got round and wounded. “You mentioned them before so I just assumed...”
Eli shrugged. “Happened a long time ago. Don’t feel bad.”
“What about your other family? Your sister. You get along with your sister, right?”
“Yeah. She’s coming up for Christmas, but she’s an ambulance dispatcher so she’s got to work Thanksgiving.”
“Well, you won’t be the only one. We’re going to have a big meal for everyone anyway.”
“I’m very well aware. It’s not my first holiday season here.”
“Oh. Well, it’s my first, and Armstrongs make a big deal out of holidays.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. He wouldn’t consider himself any great expert on Jack Armstrong, but big deal? He didn’t think so. “Have you told your brother that?”
She laughed, grinning at him. “Okay, this Armstrong makes a big deal out of holidays, and whoever’s families aren’t coming are my family for the holiday.”
“God help them.”
She poked him in the chest. “God help you.”
His mouth curved against his will.
She slapped a hand to her heart and pointed at him, so shocked he thought there must be something horrible behind him. But it was only the wall. When he turned back to her she was laughing.
“You smiled!”
He scowled at her. “If it’s against the law, you break it a million times a day.”
“But you have never smiled in my presence. Not once. In fact, I’m going to write it down in my diary. Today was the first day Eli Sterling smiled in my presence.”
“You need to get a life.”
She looked around her kitchen, a soft, dreamy smile softening her face and making her look prettier somehow. “Yeah,
I finally got myself one.”
She made it seem like a real thing. Something someone could do and surprise themself with.
Maybe for someone like her. But not for him.
Never for him.
Chapter Five
Vivian had planned, prepared, and known Thanksgiving would be challenging. After finally getting her routine down for feeding the men on a regular basis, she now had to make not just an elaborate Thanksgiving meal, but one for about twice the amount of people she usually cooked for.
Nerves has been eating her up for a few days now, and she hadn’t slept as much as she should have last night, but it was time to get the preparations underway.
She hurried through the frigid dark, wanting to get to the kitchen before everyone and have some quiet to center herself in the moment. She stopped outside the building and frowned at the lights glowing from the windows.
She should have known Eli would still manage to beat her to the kitchen. No matter what she did, he always arrived first. That first week, she’d given him a key so that he wouldn’t always be waiting out in the cold for her.
So, she centered herself here. In the cold air with the stars fading into early dawn, Everything around her was snowy stillness. She breathed it in. Then out. For a few moments, her nerves unwound, and was sure this would all work out.
With that shot of courage, she stepped inside. She unwound her scarf and hung up her coat calling out a greeting.
“Got the first thing on the list done,” Eli said in return.
She frowned at him, standing there in her kitchen already hip deep in prep. He was dressed in his normal jeans and a sweatshirt. His dark hair mussed, the shadow of growth along his jaw while used a big knife to cut up celery and onions for the stuffing.
He made quite a picture, and she wasn’t sure what made her more nervous—that swoop in her stomach that couldn’t be called anything other than attraction, or the entire day before her.
She cleared her throat and attempted to focus on the food. The enormity of what sh ehad to accomplish. “What time did you get here?”
“About fifteen minutes ago. Big day.”
“Yeah.” And just like that the nerves were back. “Big day.”
He slid her a look. “You nervous?”
“Of course I’m nervous. I’m feeding like seventy people. Thanksgiving. If it sucks, they’ll always remember the Thanksgiving they came to Revival Ranch and had sucky food.” She pulled the apron over her head and tried not to pout.
“Or they’ll remember the Thanksgiving they had hope for their loved ones for the first time in a long while.”
She blinked, taken aback at how much the simple delivery of those meaningful words hit her dead center. It was why she’d come to Revival, why she wanted to help. Hope. She had to speak through the tightness in her throat. “Well, that’s shockingly sweet.”
He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with her calling it sweet.
And there was an uncomfortable knot inside of her chest too, one she didn’t understand or want to analyze, so she got straight to work.
Monica and Becca handled a very abbreviated breakfast service of food that didn’t need any prep, and did the cleanup while the rest of them kept working on the mid-afternoon meal.
A little while later Monica showed up with a very sleepy looking Colin, who was all teenage legs and arms. He didn’t complain about his menial tasks. He just yawned through them and occasionally tried to ask Eli about his time in the SEALs. Always with surreptitious looks to make sure his mom wasn’t listening.
Vivian got the feeling Monica knew exactly what her son was doing, but instead of intervening, she let him think she didn’t know.
It made Vivian think about her own mother as she kept working, directing people, timing things in and out of the oven. If she was back home, it would just be her and Mom in the kitchen. The two Armstrong women. Then feeding the whole lot of Armstrongs while the men muttered and argued about football.
Madison might help in the kitchen, with little Croy in his high chair. Her little nephew was staring to talk, and as much as she still held some animosity for Mike and Madison, Croy was such a sweetheart. And a holy terror—which was fun to watch as the aunt who got to go home and leave the hard part to the parents.
She wouldn’t see them for months yet. Mom. Dad. Croy. They were planning on celebrating Christmas together once Rose had the baby so they could just make one long trip up.
Missing them was an ache, and still she knew she should be here. That she belonged here, but that didn’t always mean she didn’t miss what she’d left behind.
“You okay?”
It was a surprise the question came from Eli, but it was his low, very quiet voice asking her that question. She sucked in a breath and nodded.
“Yeah. I’ve just never been away from my family before. I guess it’s hitting me a little sideways.” And he’d gone off to war, far away from his family. Just like Jack once had. And all these men. Pretty ridiculous to be having a little pity party for herself.
“Jack’s here.”
“Yeah, he is. And he’s the one we were always missing, so that’s nice.” She forced herself to smile, to will him to believe that smile. Lots of people, like Eli, didn’t have anyone. His parents were dead, his sister was at home working. She wanted to do something for him in particular, but she didn’t know what. She had managed to finagle out of him that he liked scalloped potatoes over mashed and that pumpkin was his favorite kind of pie, but that was hardly groundbreaking.
“Eli...” She didn’t know what to say, and she’d reached out and grabbed his arm. God knew why. It was all ropey muscle and there was a heat radiating from him and...
She really had to get herself together.
“The first family is here,” Becca said. “Are we ready?”
“Yes,” Vivian said firmly, pulling her hand off of Eli’s arm. She turned to smile broadly at everyone. “We are ready.”
It was a flurry after that. Families and conversations. Making sure everything was refilled and people had drinks and silverware. She forced Monica and Becca to sit down with their families and eat. Her and Eli kept the chafers and drinks full, and Vivian didn’t even realize she was starving until Becca’s mom came into the kitchen and fixed them both with a stern look.
“It’s time for you two to eat,” Sandra said. “I’ll keep an eye on things.”
“Thanks. Just grab me if you need anything.” Viv started to walk out of the kitchen, but Eli hung behind. She waved an arm at him. “Come on.”
“I’m not all that hungry.”
She rolled her eyes. “Get off it, Sterling. You’re coming with me. If I can’t talk you into eating, someone will.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him out to the cafeteria. She ignored the scrambling her pulse did at the contact, because she touched people all the time.
What did it matter if she’d grabbed his hand?
Kyle Olsen was sitting with his wife and kids at a table with Nate Averly and his brother, who was a local police officer and was in uniform. Drake was with his mother, next to Levi who’s whole extended family filled the rest of the table. As her eyes drifted over every table, they were full whether with families or groups of soldiers whose families hadn’t made it.
The only spot left was at the table with her crew. She knew it wouldn’t be Eli's first choice, but what would? He was going to have to suck it up and eat with someone. Might as well be her family.
“I’m not going to—”
She handed him a plate, shoved it into his chest so he had to take it. “You will eat the fruits of your labor.”
“You’re not in charge of me.”
“No, I’m not. And yet, you are going to sit with me and eat Thanksgiving dinner whether you like it or not.”
“I could just walk out.”
“And leave me with all this to clean up?” she asked, working to make her voice sound wounded.
He scowled, but he did not walk out,
and he followed her down the buffet line. He didn’t heap his plate with food like she did, but he did take a decent portion of scalloped potatoes. She bit back a smile.
“I’m not eating with your family,” he said firmly.
“What’s wrong with my family?”
“Nothing. Don’t turn it around on me.”
“I’m not turning around anything. I just don’t understand what’s so terrible about my family you couldn’t sit down for twenty minutes tops and eat a meal.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a bulldozer?” he grumbled as they approached the table Rose, Jack, and Gabrielle were at.
She grinned up at him. “Just everyone. Now sit.”
He took a seat next to Gabrielle, which she figured was purposeful. At one and a half, Gabs couldn’t force him into any conversation. Viv did think Eli underestimated her wandering hands and demanding nature, but that would be fun to watch.
“Good job you two,” Rose said with a smile. She rubbed her belly and tried to shift casually, but there was a wince to it.
“She did all the work,” Eli grumbled.
“It’s not true, he’s just pouty because he had to have human interaction. Rose, you don’t have to sit here on these uncomfortable chairs.”
“I told her that,” Jack said. “She insisted on staying until Alex does his toast.”
“Being pregnant is a permanent state of discomfort. You just gotta live though it.”
“‘Toes!” Gabrielle shrieked.
“The potatoes are a hit,” Jack offered, taking potatoes off his plate and putting them on Gabrielle’s high chair tray. She immediately smashed them into her face with singular glee that had Vivian laughing.
Vivian snuck a glance at Eli. He had his head down and was eating slowly and methodically. Gabs was poking pudgy, potato covered fingers against his arm and he didn't engage with her or try to stop her, but every once in a while when he thought no one was looking, she'd watch him angle his head just so and make a silly face at the toddler.
