by Lois Richer
“Thank you, Elizabeth. I hope things will work out here as you want.”
“Of course they will, child. God doesn’t give us dreams to crush them. You know that better than most.” Elizabeth’s face glowed. “I’m so fortunate I can be a part of this. I think Gail will be very proud.”
Ty’s handsome face wore a scowl, but only for a moment.
“I have some figures in my office.” He nodded at Cassidy. “We’ll see you later.”
Which was supposed to put her in her place, no doubt. He guided their benefactor from the room. Cassidy waited until he reached the door.
“Ty?”
He turned, lifted one eyebrow. “Yes?”
“I’m going to need at least one helper. Should I ask around, or do you have someone in mind?”
“As soon as I’m finished with Elizabeth I’ll make some calls. Okay?”
Cassidy pressed her lips together, nodded and Ty left.
Still playing the part of the boss. That was fine, for now. But if he didn’t come up with someone quickly, she’d do it on her own.
Because nothing was going to stop Cassidy from doing her duty the very best she could. Then she’d walk out of here and prove to her father and anyone else who cared to watch that she was worth loving.
Ty clapped his hands over his ears, struggling to ignore the pounding as he spoke on the phone. The answer he received was not conducive to soothing the headache that throbbed behind his eyes.
For a moment he wondered how much louder it could get, then realized that the pounding came from his office door.
“Come in,” he called, praying nobody would ask him to make a decision. Friday afternoon at four wasn’t his peak performance time. “Hey, Mac. How are—What’s wrong?”
“It’s Cassidy.” Mac stood in the doorway, his face beet red as he gasped for breath, shifting impatiently from one foot to the other.
“Is the kitchen on fire? What’s wrong?” Ty strode toward the door, ready to investigate.
“Not the kitchen. Bring your car keys and your coat. You’re going to need them.” Mac was thumping down the steps before Ty could ask any more questions.
“Car keys.” He shuffled through the papers littering his desk, found them, grabbed his coat, locked his office door and followed. By the time he’d closed the front door Mac was already moving around the corner of the building.
Ty jogged down the stairs and to his parking spot where the older man clung to the car door, half bent over as he puffed for air.
“What is going on?’
“Get in. I’ll explain on the way,” Mac ordered.
Ty steered down the snowy street, twisting and turning through a labyrinth of streets, following Mac’s directions. On his own, he knew he’d never remember how to get back.
“What are we doing here? What’s going on?”
“Cassidy’s recruiting,” Mac told him, scanning the rundown housing and less-than-well-groomed streets.
“She’s what?”
“Recruiting. Inviting people to dinner tomorrow night.”
“Cassidy’s out here by herself?” Ty gulped, whispered a prayer for help.
“She grew up around here, thinks she knows the place well enough to handle herself.” Mac glanced at him sideways. “I don’t think she’s aware of how tough it’s become.”
“Cassidy grew up around here?” Ty blinked, shocked by the knowledge. “I didn’t know that.”
He hadn’t wanted to know anything about Elizabeth’s protégée, if the truth were told. He’d heard more than enough from Elizabeth, who couldn’t stop bragging about how lucky they were to get the great Cassidy Preston at the Haven. Even Jack constantly sang her praises.
“Some of Jack’s new friends told him what she was doing. He told me to bring you, just in case. Then he followed her. That’s the street. Go right.”
Furious that she’d dragged his nephew into this, Ty cranked hard on the wheel and followed Mac’s directions.
“Where?” He slowed down, took a second glance into garbage-strewn alleys and dilapidated tenement buildings. Cassidy was nowhere to be seen.
“It didn’t take me that long to get you. She’s got to be around somewhere.” Mac’s face turned a sickly gray-white. “That gang—Do you think—I mean, you hear such awful stuff—”
Ty didn’t know what to think. Nothing had prepared him for this.
“They’re just kids—punks with big mouths.” He hoped. “Should I stop here?”
“Not yet. Keep driving. Slowly.”
“Why would she do this? I told her I’d get someone to put up posters.”
Three days ago he’d told her that. Today was Friday. And he still hadn’t done it. She was probably fed up with his promises.
Ty gulped.
If anything happened—
“Stop!”
Ty jammed on the brakes. Mac was out of the door and down the narrow alley a second later, motioning for Ty to follow.
“Why couldn’t she just cook?”
That wasn’t fair and he knew it. Ty eased into a parking spot, shut off the motor and got out. He locked the doors, then wondered if it would do any good.
Realizing Mac had disappeared, Ty hurried after him. Just his luck the old guy would get bumped on the head and he’d have two of them to care for. Approaching the corner, he heard voices—loud, angry.
Ty stepped up his pace and ran smack into Mac’s solid back. He shifted to move around him, but the old man clamped iron fingers on his shoulder.
“Wait.”
Cassidy, wearing a thick parka and a red hat, leaned against the stoop of the oldest building on the block, listening as someone raged at her because the place was a dump and somebody ought to do something. The shrill voice soon rang a bell. He tilted upward to get a better look and almost groaned.
Red. He’d have known the raging teen and her band of unhappy chums anywhere. He caught his breath. Jack stood beside Red, eyes wide as he listened to her diatribe. If Cassidy had led his nephew into trouble with those juvenile delinquents—
The moment Cassidy got a break, she began speaking. She didn’t make excuses for Red’s tough lot in life, didn’t apologize for getting a chance herself and taking it, didn’t even try to calm her down.
What Cassidy did do was get her message across.
“I’m really sorry, Red. If you want, we can talk about this some more tomorrow night at the Haven. I’m making a great big dinner and everyone’s welcome. If you want to come, you’re welcome. Bring a friend, your mom. There will be lots to eat.”
“How much?” Red snarled.
“It’s free. All I’m here to do is tell you so you can spread the word. I’ve spent a lot of time baking chocolate cakes and I’d hate to have to throw them out if nobody shows up.”
“As if.” The sneer was the same one Red had used on Ty the day Jack had introduced her as his newest friend.
Cassidy rose, took a step down. “Now I have to get a move on.”
“What’s the rush?” Red’s second-in-command, a bullish boy a few years older than her, swaggered in front and shoved his pimply face into Cassidy’s. “Don’t you like it around here?”
Cassidy glanced over at Jack, but she didn’t take the bait. Instead she scanned the crowd, her face thoughtful.
“There’s only—what? Fifty people here?” She shook her head. “That won’t work. I ordered meat for three times that many. If that food isn’t eaten, they’re going to tell me there’s no point to me cooking it and the kitchen will close.” She looked Red straight in the eye.
The sullen girl held her gaze for a moment, nodded once.
“You think you can stretch it to two hundred if me and the guys let everybody know? There’s some old folks three blocks over could use a good meal.”
“Two hundred?” Cassidy pretended to consider. “Potatoes, gravy—everything?”
“Even the chocolate cake.”
“I guess I could make some more. You don’t think
two hundred is too many?” The challenge was obvious.
“Now you can’t do it?” Red scoffed.
“Not if I have to stand here arguing with you,” Cassidy shot back. “So you’ll spread the word and I’ll have the food ready. Deal?” She held out her hand.
The group stood to one side of the stoop, waiting for Red’s reaction. Ty knew that whatever the girl said, they’d do. She had a way of commanding power. One glance at Jack told him his nephew was under her spell, too. He shuddered at the thought of where that could lead.
Red tried to stare the chef down, without success. Maybe she’d met her match in Cassidy Preston.
An audible sigh rippled through the crowd when Red grasped Cassidy’s hand.
“Deal.” Red dropped it a second later, turned and gave orders to her group, who began fanning out among the streets.
Ty exhaled. So far, so good.
“Hey, cook!” Red turned back. “What you gonna do if we get more than two hundred?”
Cassidy kept her cool as she faced the challenge. Ty wanted to cheer when she pulled a list from her pocket and studied it for several seconds before looking at Red.
“I’m going to improvise. Don’t worry, you won’t go hungry.”
The crowd hooted with laughter and Red sauntered away. For a moment Ty thought Jack might follow her but Cassidy prevented that by introducing him to the remainder of the group.
“And that man over there is his uncle, Ty. He’s going to be running the Haven. And that’s Mac.”
“Aw, you don’t have to introduce us to Mac,” one man called. “He’s one of us.”
“Okay then.” She worked her way through the crowd issuing the same invitation over and over. “See you tomorrow for dinner.”
By the time she reached them Ty could only gaze at her in admiration, wondering where she got her nerve. Then reality sank in.
“You and I need to have a discussion, Jack. Right after I talk to Cassidy. My car’s this way.” He stepped forward, then glanced around. “Mac?”
“I’ll see you later, Ty.” Mac waved him off.
Ty nodded, led Cassidy away from the group.
“Will you please let go of me?” she hissed and, when he didn’t release her fast enough, she jerked her arm free. “This isn’t exactly Beirut. I don’t need a bodyguard. What’s wrong with you, anyway?”
So the wrong question.
“Exactly what I’d like to know.” Ty forced his jaw to relax. “What are you doing here—alone?”
“Inviting people for dinner. Something you didn’t manage to get around to.”
Guilty as charged. His temper simmered.
“I’m sorry. I got buried in work and forgot. But you could have reminded me. You didn’t have to come here yourself.”
She looked at him as if he was crazy. “Why not?”
“Because it’s not safe. This place is a—” He glanced around, searched for the right word.
“Slum?” She nodded. “Kind of why we’re here, isn’t it? That’s why I’m telling them what we have to offer.”
Ty had to walk faster to keep up to her, which only elevated his frustration. Along with his raging headache.
“Look, I can’t be responsible—”
“No one asked you to be.” Cassidy stopped, glared at him. “I’m here to cook, but I’m not going to have it all go to waste because you ‘forgot’ to let our clients know. And I don’t need you to check up on me.”
“I didn’t.”
“Then?” She blinked, silvery-gray eyes brimming with confusion.
“Mac came racing in, said Jack told him to come get me.” He glanced at his silent nephew. “Jack has the sense to know you shouldn’t be out here on your own. I think he was scared. With good reason,” he added to push the point home.
“Oh.” Cassidy frowned at the boy. “I’m sorry, Jack. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I wasn’t scared,” he said, indignation rippling through his squeaky voice as he glared at Ty. “It’s just that Red is a little—”
“Out of control,” Ty finished for him.
“No! But she gets mad because she can’t make things better,” he explained earnestly.
“I think we all do,” Cassidy told him quietly. She patted his shoulder, glanced at Ty. Then her eyes opened very wide.
“What’s wrong now?” he demanded, wondering if he’d ever get accustomed to her chameleon personality—one minute blazing at him, the next sweetly comforting his nephew.
“Can I ask you a question?”
That soft voice, the way her fingers curled around his forearm—when two minutes ago she’d jerked from his grasp as if he had rabies. Ty couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her.
“A question?” If only his head would stop hammering. “Go ahead.”
“When you got here your car had tires, right?”
Ty whirled around. His beautiful baby sat on the pavement like a wounded bird stripped of its wings. He groaned, pressed his fingertips to his temples and counted to ten.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She looped one arm through his, the other through Jack’s and drew them both along the street beside her as if she was in charge and they were two naughty boys who’d done something wrong. “Back to the Haven, guys. And next time when you come looking for me, Ty, don’t bring your car.”
Six months, she’d said?
Ty had doubts he’d make it through six more days.
Chapter Four
Cassidy scooped out the last morsel of mashed potato and plopped it onto a plate. She added meat, vegetables, a roll and gravy before handing it to Ty.
“You’re timing is excellent. We’re down to mostly aroma and three rolls.” A surge of triumph rolled through her weary body.
“How many?” he asked, scanning the room.
“Two hundred and ninety-five plates not including the seconds we served.”
He studied her face for a moment before grabbing another plate and dividing his meal. He handed the second plate to her.
“It’s time for you to take a break,” he insisted when she tried to set it down. “You’ve been going at it for hours. Now enjoy your success and relax.”
Cassidy wanted to argue, but she was too tired. Besides, Ty had come through with a dozen volunteers who were busy scrubbing the pots and pans. Everything was under control.
“Come on,” he coaxed with a lazy grin. “You know you wa-a-ant it.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, trailing behind him to an empty table.
Ty did a second take then laughed.
“I keep forgetting you haven’t been in the country for a while. It’s something the kids say. Jack uses it on me all the time.”
“Speaking of Jack—where is he?” She glanced around the room curiously.
Ty scanned the area, then scowled.
“Supposed to be clearing tables. Which clearly isn’t happening.”
So everything was not well between the two. Cassidy wasn’t surprised given the arguments she’d overheard the past few days.
“Maybe he’s taking a break, too.” She sampled the beef and judged it perfect. “Teens don’t usually stick at anything as boring as cleaning without supervision.”
Ty’s fork hit his plate so loudly that Cassidy thought the tired crockery would shatter.
“Look, I can’t watch him all the time. I’ve got things to do.”
She waited till he looked at her.
“I wasn’t criticizing. I know you’ve been running on all cylinders.”
He grimaced. “Sorry. Again.”
“Forget it. You’re tired, I’m tired. Comes with the territory.”
“You don’t look tired. You look like you’ve just been granted your dearest wish.”
She felt the heat flood her cheeks and shrugged.
“What can I say? I love cooking.”
“And you’re very good at it, though I imagine I’m not the first to tell you that.” He sampled the beef then tilted h
is head in Davis’s direction. “He certainly has a gift for conversation.”
Cassidy chewed her roll thoughtfully.
“Davis could make a friend out of his worst enemy. He’s as lovable as a teddy bear.” She told Ty of the many times her friends had helped her through a rough afternoon though she never mentioned why it had been rough. Some things didn’t need sharing.
“Were you ever—” Ty paused, raised an eyebrow. “Romantically involved?”
“With Davis?” Cassidy made a face. “No way.”
“Why not? Is there something wrong with him?”
“Do not get me started on Davis’s faults.” She scrambled to escape this conversation. Judging by the way Ty was studying her it wouldn’t be easy. “Besides, I don’t get romantically involved.”
“Why is that?”
Cassidy pushed her plate away, her hunger dissipating like this morning’s fog.
“Let’s just say I’m not good at putting my faith in people.” Especially men. She rose. “I’m going to get a cup of coffee. Do you want some?”
“No, thanks.” Ty grimaced, shook his head. “My stomach couldn’t take it. Water is fine.”
“I’ll see if there’s any cake left, too.” She hurried away without a backward glance, anxious to regroup before he cornered her again. As she headed for the counter, someone grabbed her arm.
Cassidy whirled, her nerves automatically zipping to alert as she reacted by assuming a defensive stance.
“Hey!” Her assailant held up both hands. “Just me. What’s up, cook?”
“Red.” Cassidy unclenched her fingers and smiled at the abrasive gang leader. “Don’t do that again, okay?” She exhaled slowly. “Did you enjoy your dinner?”
“Yeah, it was cool. You gonna do this every night?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure exactly how it’s going to work yet. Ty and I need to work it out.” She turned the tables. “Would you come if I did?”
“Nah.” The lean redhead slouched against a table, watching as Cassidy poured two drinks. “But my mom might. If I can keep her sober long enough.”
Been there. Done that. Cassidy felt a twinge of regret for the young girl’s future.
