To make serving a little easier, Cass had made individual ramekins of blueberry cobbler. She set the warm small baking dishes unto salad plates and topped each with a perfect scoop of vanilla ice cream. She about jumped out of her skin when she turned around with the tray and nearly collided with Jacko. “Food was great. I was thinking maybe go with French food for the wedding.”
Cass nodded at the ice cream that was melting into the cobblers. “Can’t right now.”
“Oh, of course, sorry,” he said, holding the kitchen door open for her.
She relished the ooh’s and aaah’s when she emerged with dessert. Isabelle took a break from serenading them to eat her own dessert. As they all vigorously applied themselves to the task of devouring dessert before the ice cream was melted by the warm pastry, Cass reminded them of the next day's schedule. There would be breakfast, followed by snowmobile rides for whoever wanted them. Later in the afternoon there would be ice-skating on the pond. The pond was near an old cabin that Killian and Torsten had reinforced. “Charm my ass, if the roof falls on someone’s head it's going to really suck,” had been their reaction. With the cabin shored up, its rustic charm shone through. No one knew how long it had been there, but they had all agreed it was fine, if guests to the lodge were allowed to believe it was older than it might actually be. Cass had planned a hearty menu of food that could be served outside, but it wouldn't hurt if people could actually go in and warm up. Prior to the skating party, Torsten and Libby would meet the ferry and the remainder of the wedding guests would arrive.
“When does the string trio get here?” Amelia asked.
“The next day, on the last ferry prior to the wedding.”
Chelsea looked flummoxed. “Wait. Why is there a strings trio coming?”
Amelia responded firmly, “Because Jacko wants you to have the best, and they are the best. They are from Boston.” Amelia said this with a certain finality, as if their hailing from Boston ended the questions about their coming. Cass did not have any sisters, but she could have sworn that she saw Chelsea mouth, “Fuck, I am so sorry” to Isabelle. The younger sister looked sad, but merely shrugged her shoulders. Cass suspected Isabelle was rather used to being dismissed by her formidable mother. The evening had been wrapping up, but this exchange seemed to end the festivities. People began to put their coats on.
Killian lit a lantern to guide everyone to their cottages. He thought that a flashlight would be fine, and anyway the paths were lit. His mother had overridden his protests and insisted that only a real lantern would convey the right ambience. Once he had been out of his mother's hearing he had asked his wife, “So we’re going for the backwards hilljacks ambience?” Cass had said, “Okay—you tell her no.” Her tall, strong and tough as nails man had cringed at the mere thought. “Fine, I’ll light the dumbass lantern,” he had conceded. While he led their guests to their cozy cottages, his wife started the dishwasher. Now that her evening was winding down she had time to think. She was very aware of the residual heat emanating from her backside. The acute pain was gone, but as she walked up the steps, she was vitally aware of her gluteus maximus muscles.
She was turning down the bed when Killian walked in. They both efficiently stripped their own clothes off. Cass opened a drawer to pull out some warm pajamas. Killian moved so close to her that she could immediately feel his hard cock against her still pink skin. He trailed his tongue down the curve of her neck. His hands moved up to her breasts cradling them as he held her tightly against him. She reached back to stroke him. He was ready for her. It didn't take long for her to catch up. Killian lifted her easily unto the dresser. She wrapped her legs around his waist and drew him deep within her. They were both exhausted, so they did not take their time. With her face buried in his throat and his hands gripping her ass, they both came almost immediately. She caught her breath and then Killian helped her down. She was not particularly coordinated and had it not been for his strong arms, she most likely would have fallen face first. Of course, had it not been for her husband's presence, she would not have been likely to perch on the dresser in the first place. She was all too aware of the effects of gravity. In Killian's arms, though, the only thing she was falling into was a deep sleep.
CassCooks Blog post
Preplanned Porcine and Praline
Chelsea is an extraordinarily beautiful bride. Later today I will get my first glimpse of her in her wedding dress. It’s a Vera Wang couture and made just for her. Her sister is her maid of honor and her dress is a pale silver. The mothers are wearing gold tones. I cannot wait to show you pictures of this wedding—Chelsea and Jacko both are athletic and outdoorsy and they both have exquisite taste.
Speaking of taste—I owe you a recipe. This has the distinction of being the only recipe I've ever posted that is one I inherited from my mother. My mother has extraordinary qualities. She’s a teacher and has taught hundreds of children to read. She is warm, she is an excellent tennis player. She is one of those fit, busy women who doesn't give that much thought to food. (I know, I know—I have questioned my birth many times, but all evidence points to the fact that I am the natural child of Barbara and Ken Harper, of Bannockburn, Illinois.) However, on Thanksgiving morning and Christmas morning, she would make a version of this casserole. Pecan-praline French toast bake (her name for it, not mine) represents the apex of my mother's kitchen endeavors. Thankfully, we had extended family to go to for the other meals on those holidays. Babs (Mom, to me—allegedly) combined everything all at once. I do not since the nuts go soggy. She served it with microwaved link sausage, and Tropicana orange juice. I do not. I make a homemade breakfast sausage. If you're so inclined, you can substitute ground turkey for the pork in the recipe. Its different, but still very tasty. I don't serve juice with this menu. It doesn't work, it clashes with the praline. Coffee or tea or hot chocolate are much better. Eat a salad later to get your vitamins. I’m serving a big meal in the morning and then we'll go ice-skating this afternoon. We will eat a hearty supper in an old trapper's cabin.
Winter is delicious—Cass
Life on the D String
Cass had pre-browned sausage and assembled a praline French toast casserole, so when she staggered bleary eyed into the kitchen it was a simple matter of sliding things into the oven. Soon the smell of coffee was wafting through the lodge.
Virginia arrived with her tools and transformed Cass into “TV Cass.” She had quickly cleared away her tools when Chelsea and Isabelle strode onto the porch, Ben and his camera in tow. The women were mid conversation. “Well, we need to find you another string,” Chelsea continued as she poured herself coffee.
“I don't know where I could find one here. I bet the cello player who’s coming with the trio will have one I can use,” Isabelle suggested.
Chelsea seemed to freeze for a second. “No—you hate it when you can't play. We will find you one here.”
Cass had no idea where they could find a cello string in Slick Trench. Luckily, Killian and Hazel came into the room just in time. “Well, we’ll need to go to Danny’s.”
Cass was more befuddled than usual. “Danny? The drywaller?”
“Well, he does drywall when he isn't training.” Hazel decanted cream into a small pitcher and put it near the coffee maker.
“Wait, he uses cello strings to train for something?”
“Don’t be silly; he uses cello strings on his cello. He trains with the cars around his yard.” This explained absolutely nothing to anyone who hadn't been born and bred in Slick Trench. Hazel turned towards their guests. “He’s the strongest man in Alaska. Next month he will go to Iceland for the world championships.”
Cass had always been fond of Danny. He was the largest man she had ever seen. He had multiple colorful tattoos and a gentle nature. He had also shown up and helped them finish the new lodge. As always there was so much more to her neighbors than she realized. “So he carries around those broken down cars?”
“Yes, and he’s rigged up other things.
He can lift 900 lbs.”
Isabelle interjected. “And he plays the cello?”
“Among other things, he plays the cello, guitar, bag pipes, accordion and I'm sure a few more.”
A trip to Danny’s did not fit the narrative of the TV show. Danny’s house sat in the middle of a car graveyard. There were metal scaffolds that Cass now understood were some sort of yoke that he used to move weight. Be that as it may, it definitely did not fit into the rustic elegance theme of the wedding. She gave it a few seconds thought.
“Let’s see, maybe Hazel could drive Isabelle over to Danny’s while you and I go over a few things”
“Sounds perfect,” responded Chelsea.
“Really, if it’s too much trouble, I can wait,” Isabelle offered.
“Don't be silly,” her sister said firmly. “She goes a little nuts if she can't play her cello, and let’s face it, Mom makes everyone crazy enough.”
Isabelle gave her sister a quick squeeze. “Isn't she the best? I wasn't even going to bring it, but she’s right I can't live without it.”
The rest of the wedding party arrived and everyone tucked into breakfast. Cass noticed that neither of the girls appeared to be in any hurry to tell their formidable mother about the errand Isabelle was going to run.
Luckily for Cass, Chelsea was going to show her the wedding gown. This meant that Jacko couldn't hang around and pester her about changing the plans endlessly. In the end, Hazel stayed to see the dress so Killian took Isabelle and Jacko to find the multitalented Danny. Dr. Evans, Cass hoped that Chelsea would at some point call her by her first name, had joined them. While Chelsea changed into her dress, Hazel lit the fires in both fireplaces in the great hall so that they could see what it would look like. They would set up rows of chairs in front of the north fireplace. Lit candelabras would line the “aisle.” The tables for dinner were already set up on the other end of the room. When the chairs were moved following the ceremony, there would be room for dancing. Cass stood at one of the large windows and looked over the property. Once the sun went down the candles in the windows of every cottage would be visible. At Hazel's insistence the “boys” had planted shepherd’s crooks along the paths and there would be lanterns hung from them.
There was a collective gasp when Chelsea came down the stairs. The gown was ivory. It was simple, with long sleeves and a square neckline. It fit her slim figure like the proverbial glove. When Chelsea twirled for them, they could see the hundreds of satin buttons that cascaded from the nape of her neck to her waist. Amelia managed to frown. “Let’s talk a bit more about the hair.”
Chelsea shook her head. “Nope. I’m borrowing Kimberly’s veil. I arranged for a crown of snowberries and baby's breath and tiny ivy. It’s all planned.” Amelia looked put out. Chelsea quickly added, “I'm wearing your pearls.”
That softened her mother a wee bit. “And there's a headband of red flowers for Iz. Oh and I want a picture of me in my wedding dress on ski’s with Jacko on a snowboard.” It was a pleasure for Cass to have such an exuberant bride. They heard the gate open and Chelsea dashed upstairs to get out of the dress.
On Frozen Pond
Jacko and Killian had returned with the newest guests. They had brought in Chelsea’s grandparents. Torsten and assorted friends were bringing the others. Long term, the lodge was going to have to get a bus. But with the construction project, there was no extra money laying around for such things. So they dispatched a fleet of jeeps as needed. Cass greeted all of the guests and she and Hazel walked each of them to their cottages. After everyone had briefly settled in, they gathered, bundled up, on the front porch of the main house. Bells were jingling in the distance. The guests were delighted when two large sleighs, pulled by horses pulled in. Hazel whispered to Killian, “Careful helping people climb in—the paint is not what we’d call dry.”
Cass was aware of how awesome it would all look on camera. They could have easily walked to the pond. But this was much more picturesque. They unloaded at the old trapper’s cabin. Cass was pleased to not see smears of red paint on anyone’s coats. The front porch had been decorated with swags of greenery, and a wreath featuring an antique pair of a child’s ice skates. The generator running behind the building was kept out of the camera view. Luckily, it appeared that the happy couple didn’t know anyone, including relations, who were not athletic. Even Chelsea’s grandmother laced up skates. On the porch there was a large basket of skates. It was meant to look as if the lodge had a large selection. In fact, they production crew had gotten everyone’s shoe size and they had all been purchased. Cass passed a tray of mugs of mulled wine. Torsten and Killian had been out at the crack of dawn to make sure the pond was frozen solid. Their effort was rewarded by the happy laughter of thirty people twirling about on the ice. Cass noticed that Jacko’s parents were not skating. She felt guilty, it hadn't occurred to her that they might not know how. She walked up the slight hill where they were standing to see if there was anything they needed.
“Oh no, dear, we are just watching the bride's sister and her beau the giant,” said Mrs. doctor.
“I suspect acromegaly, but my wife thinks he just comes from Viking stock,” said Mr. Doctor.
Isabelle was walking through the woods with Danny. This was a development that Amelia was not going to like. “Brrr. I'm really chilly, I better get some more mulled wine,” Cass said and tromped back to the porch. Mulled, shmulled, she thought I need wine, pure and simple.
“Get your skates on, Mrs. Nelson,” Killian suggested. She happily complied.
Cass was only outdoorsy by marriage, but she did know how to ice skate. In her new navy blue coat, with her make up touched up by the brilliant Virginia she felt pretty as she skated around on Killian’s arm. “What do you want for Christmas?” she asked as he led her around the pond.
He shook his head. “I don't need anything.”
“That is a terrible answer.”
“Well, it’s the truth.”
“Oh shut up.”
“Sassy girl, you better watch that.” His hand strayed down and squeezed her bottom. She squealed and skated away hoping the camera hadn't caught it.
It was cold, but with a bonfire going (not too close to the pond) and the fireplace lit in the cabin, people seemed happy enough. Cass slipped off her skates to pass a tray of mugs of soup. “These copper mugs have totally earned their place in my cabinet,” she thought. She kept up a running commentary to Ben and his camera. She held a mug of soup up. “I packed thermoses of soup,” (this was untrue—the generator meant that she could keep the soup hot in the cabin, but it didn't fit into the story the network wanted to tell). “It’s a rich potato soup with smoked sausage and kale.” She took a sip. “It’s not a fine puree, but it is blended enough that people don't really need spoons, which is nice out here.” Hazel walked behind her offering triangles of caramelized onion focaccia to people while they sipped their soup. Cass returned to the porch to show off the cookies that were in baskets on the buffet. She gestured to three stainless beverage urns. “These are my new toys.” She pointed underneath them. “They are like chafing dishes for beverages. So handy. No cords for people to trip over, and they look fantastic. We have coffee, hot chocolate, and mulled wine.” They had set benches around the pond, since sitting on the ground would be an icy proposition.
Jacko was introducing his parents to Danny, his voice carrying on the cold afternoon air. “This fella’s one of the strongest blokes in the world. He can lift 450 kilos.”
Mrs. Doctor, she now knew her name was Kimberly, but Cass found she was rather fond of the earlier moniker, took the large man’s elbow and turned him around. Even through his coat you could see his bulging back muscles. “Young man,” she said, “you have the most impressive trapezius muscles I have ever seen.”
Her husband had a question of his own. “Were your parents uncommonly tall?” Danny was nonplussed by the personal queries and seemed to chat easily with Kimberly and Lindsay.
Is
abelle brought some empty soup cups up to the porch. Cass nudged her with her elbow, “He’s got arms like tree trunks,” she whispered conspiratorially.
“Have you seen him?” Isabelle asked, enthralled. “The tree trucks ain’t got nothing.”
Both women laughed and the cellist went off to rejoin her swain.
Cass was tidying up the cookie buffet when Hazel squeezed her arm. “My God, you did a good job.”
“We did.” Once the sun had gone down it was very cold. People happily climbed back into the sleighs to be returned to the lodge. Cass had made platters of muffaletta sandwiches and more of the cookies. Some of the older guests retired to the family room in the main lodge to watch a movie. The younger set gathered in the new hall. Cass made sure the movie watchers had dinner and drinks and was heading over to the new hall to do the same for the wilder group. The music swirled around her. It was so alive she could almost see it. Isabelle’s cello and a guitar, two voices. “Wise men say, only fools rush in, but I can't help falling in love with you.” Killian had been making sure that everyone had their wood stove lit. They met on the path and he took her hand. Cass couldn't dance, not a step really. It turned out that in Killian's arms she could do things she would never otherwise be able to do. They held each other close and waltzed as the snow began to fall.
Red Velvet: A BBW Romance (The Cass Chronicles Book 5) Page 4
