Sweet Surprise: Romance Collection

by Wanda E. Brunstetter, Kristin Billerbeck, Kristy Dykes, Aisha Ford, Birdie L. Etchison, Pamela Griffin, Joyce Livingston, Tamela Hancock Murray

  “Yes, well—”

  “I have salmon chowder for dinner,” Cynthia said. “It’s a new recipe, and it’s just out of this world for taste—”

  “My dear, I think you’ve played the Suzie Homemaker role nicely, but don’t overdo it—at least not on my account. I can’t even boil water and don’t need someone to make me remember how awful I am at cooking.”

  Cynthia felt as if she’d been slapped. She wasn’t trying to impress the woman at all. It hadn’t been her intention. She liked to cook, and better yet, liked to share the food she prepared.

  “Whatever you have planned is fine,” Cynthia said. “Perhaps the guests coming in today will want a bowl of chowder.”

  “Perhaps they will.”

  Gabe had not said a word, but Cynthia heard his sharp intake of breath. He might have spoken, but Natalie was far too busy chatting.

  Gabe said he thought the floors were wonderful, but she need not have gone to that much trouble. He also liked the way she’d changed the living room around. That surprised her, as he was the sort “who didn’t like changes.”

  “I’ve seen it,” Natalie said, “so that should keep you happy.” She glanced at Cynthia. “You’re doing a good job, I see, which is good as Gabe won’t be around to come checking on you every week, or twice a week—whatever it’s been. He’s going to New York to live come November.”

  “You are?” Cynthia blurted out, then realized it was none of her business what Gabe did with his life. He was her boss; she had a job, and that’s all that mattered. Why did she care what he did? A small lump formed in the bottom of her stomach when she realized that he was going away and probably looking forward to it. Yet she thought she could detect a “small boy” part about him that maybe he didn’t know was even there.

  “Natalie, I don’t think you need to go around telling my plans—”

  “I didn’t know you were going to New York,” Cynthia said. “Not that you shouldn’t, but isn’t it tough getting a job there?”

  “I have connections,” Natalie said, purring like a kitten, taking his arm again in that possessive way she had. “Gabe will do well. He has a friend who will show him the ropes, and he’ll be on Wall Street in no time.”

  Gabe’s face went blank, and Cynthia wondered what he was thinking about. She didn’t know him well enough to interpret all of his expressions, but she’d guess that he might not be completely sold on the idea.

  “I know,” Gabe said then. “Since Natalie wants to try out this restaurant with its four stars, we’ll do that, and then come back to meet the guests.”

  “Oh, darling,” Natalie interrupted, “I do get bored so quickly in small towns. You know that.”

  Cynthia looked away. How could the woman be bored in a spot this beautiful? Had she even noticed the view? The beautiful home she was in? She hadn’t mentioned the touches Cynthia had worked so hard on—the napkin rings on the already set table, the bloom of flowers in the hall, the gorgeous Persian rug in the foyer. She had not noticed a thing, not even the cooling apple crisp on the counter.

  But Gabe had noticed the crisp and insisted on having “just a tiny taste.”

  One taste led to another until Cynthia had dished up at least a third of the apple dessert.

  “This is just like my Norwegian grandmother used to make,” Gabe said, polishing off the last spoonful.

  “And I just so happened to get that from Nonie, who was my Norwegian grandmother,” Cynthia said. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “No, dear,” Natalie said when Cynthia again offered her just a small portion. “It’s my figure, you know. I don’t eat sweets these days.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Cynthia said. “I find eating one of my true pleasures of life.”

  Gabe grinned, and Cynthia smiled back. She knew he liked eating, but she also surmised he wouldn’t say so, not wanting to invoke another barbed comment.

  “I’ll be here waiting for the Hendersons,” Cynthia said, walking the two to the door. “They are from Missouri and wanted to see what it was like in our wonderful Pacific Northwest, or at least that is what they said online.”

  “Well, you take care of your guests,” Natalie said, patting Cynthia’s hand as if she were a small child. Cynthia moved back, saying nothing.

  Glad they were gone, she put Gabe’s bowl and spoon in the dishwasher. She would invite the guests to share the chowder with her. Why not? If they wanted to go out, that was fine, too, but she had an idea that they might just want to relax tonight and enjoy the conversation. She had put together a scrapbook showing sights to see in Astoria. They could look around on Saturday since they were staying two nights before heading down the coast toward Lincoln City and another B and B called Ocean Lake.

  Cynthia let her thoughts return to Gabe and Natalie. Natalie was the right person for some man, but was Gabe the one? She couldn’t quite put her finger on how she felt about it, but she didn’t think Gabe and Natalie were a good match. Not that it was any of her business.

  “Mind your own business, Cynthy,” her mama used to say. “It doesn’t matter what the neighbors are doing or how they talk to one another. It’s their life, not yours.”

  “I’m just curious,” was Cynthia’s pat answer. It was true. She loved people and wanted to know what made them tick.

  She thought back to the time she’d taken a dish of freshly baked brownies to a new neighbor. The door slammed in her face, the voice behind it telling her to just leave, not to bother them again. Crushed, she’d hurried home and bawled her eyes out.

  Her mother had comforted her, explaining that not all people were friendly, no matter how hard one tried to be a good neighbor. Cynthia kept to herself for a few months, but soon she was noticing people and things and was “meddling,” as her mother often called it.

  Was she meddling now? Why should she care what Gabe did? If he wanted to marry this beautiful, outspoken woman, what was it to her? It was absolutely none of her concern. She had a job, and she would do the job the best she knew how. If it didn’t work out, she’d return to San Francisco, and perhaps Max would have a new love interest by then. She would make it, no matter what happened. She was a winner. She knew it, and she was going to keep telling herself that very thing. How could she be anything else with God on her side?

  Gabe was never quite sure when it first hit him that Natalie bugged him. Was it her bossiness? She liked to think she had all the answers and her way was the best. When she’d first mentioned moving to New York and finding a job on Wall Street, he realized it had been a dream in the back of his mind. He’d often thought he’d like to live in New York, the financial capital of the world. Somewhere along the way, he had started changing. It didn’t seem as important to him. Then Natalie came along and started the fire going again. “Of course you can be a success there,” she had said. “I’ll be going soon, and I want you to come with me.”

  He had fallen for the woman completely. So different from Rainey—his old sweetheart from school days—they had broken off their relationship long before he moved to Portland. She had stepped in, helping him out until he found someone to take over the B and B permanently. Rainey was wonderful, and he would always love her like a sister, but he knew they could never be husband and wife.

  Could he be a husband to Natalie? He wasn’t even sure Natalie wanted that. She seemed content to see him twice a week, to have someone accompany her out for an evening on the town, whether it was a dinner in a fancy, upscale restaurant, or one of the Broadway shows or concerts. She had never mentioned marriage, nor had he. And now that he thought about it, as he sat across from her at the Pelican, he knew he would not be with her forever.

  She complained often, like now.

  “How this place got four stars is beyond me,” Natalie said while they drank coffee. “I have certainly had better coffee in a two-star corner café in downtown Portland.”

  “Shh,” Gabe said, leaning forward. He tried to take her hand, but she pulled away.
>
  “And why shouldn’t they know?”

  “Let’s just enjoy the evening,” Gabe said.

  It went from bad to worse. Natalie insisted the salad dressing was “store-bought.”

  “I’ve never had such tasteless blue cheese,” she whined. “Why, there aren’t even any chunks of cheese!”

  “We can always go back to have salmon chowder,” Gabe suggested.

  “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you!”

  Gabe soon gave up. There was no appeasing her. He would stop trying. He had learned when to talk and when to keep silent. Was that the kind of relationship he wanted? Somehow he didn’t think it would be that way with Cynthia. And then he smiled to himself. But Natalie caught it.

  “What’s funny? You’re smiling.”

  “Oh, am I?”

  “Thinking about that country bumpkin back there,” she said, pushing her salad aside. “I think she’s just right for that job, but don’t get any ideas, Mr. Taylor. She sure can’t help your career as I can.”

  “I wasn’t thinking about my career.”

  “Perhaps you should.” Natalie leaned forward.

  But Gabe didn’t want to think about it. For some reason he longed to go back to the B and B and wanted to meet the Hendersons, picturing them as a down-to-earth couple from the heartland. Perhaps they even had a farm. They would love Cynthia—especially her cooking.

  The sautéed prawns came before Natalie could say anything.

  “This is all we get?” she asked the waiter.

  “It says six to eight on the menu, I believe, ma’am.”

  Natalie took a bite and shoved her plate aside. “This has certainly not been a pleasant experience,” she snapped. “I think whoever wrote that article in my cooking magazine must be the owner. I’d like a chance to write a piece—”

  “Natalie, please,” Gabe was saying. This was still his hometown, though he hadn’t lived here for the past seven years. He still knew most of the people, and if he remembered correctly, the waiter was someone he had known in high school.

  “Gabe, if you won’t say something, then I must.”

  Gabe pulled out some money, put it on the table, and told the astounded waiter—George, or whatever his name was—to keep the change.

  “You can go on complaining, but you’re going to be alone.” He turned away. “I’ll be in the car waiting.”

  Natalie followed, brushing past the waiter on her way out the door.

  “You humiliated me,” she screamed once they were on the sidewalk. “You should have backed me up!”

  “What was there to back up? I thought everything was fine.”

  “Maybe you won’t make it in New York then.”

  “And maybe I won’t!”

  He held the door open and almost slammed it before she got her high-heeled foot completely in. He so wished he’d never talked her into coming. He’d been trying for months to get her to come to Astoria, but she was always too busy or wanted to try yet another new restaurant in Portland. Well, this was a first and a last. He sure wouldn’t make this mistake again.

  “I suppose you’re going to pout all the way back to Portland,” Natalie snapped, staring straight ahead.

  “No, I’m not. We’re stopping back at the B and B, and I’m having a bowl of salmon chowder.”

  “Oh no you’re not!” Natalie’s eyes blazed.

  “I’m driving and I say I am.”

  “I couldn’t possibly stand to be in the same room with Miss Perfect anymore.”

  “Okay. Sit in the car then. I’ll try to be quick.”

  That is what she did as he went inside. A navy blue car with Missouri plates was in one of the parking spots, and he heard Cynthia’s voice carrying from one of the upper bedrooms. His heart did a funny lurch as she came down the stairs, asking the guests to wait until she returned. He figured she probably thought it was another guest.

  “Gabe!” Her eyes widened as their gazes met. “But, I thought—”

  “I know. Natalie didn’t like the food, and I’m back here, wanting to meet the guests and hoping there’s enough chowder for me.”

  “Of course. Come on up while I finish their tour. They can select their favorite room, and then I’ll put the chowder on. Surely Natalie will come in?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  The next hour was pleasant, and the chowder was better than Gabe could have imagined. He had a winner in Cynthia Lyons. He had thought so before, but after tonight, he knew so. You didn’t have to hit him over the head to make a point.

  Cynthia knew the couple would take the Garden Room. As they brought in their suitcases and hauled them up the narrow staircase, she went down to put the chowder on. They had agreed they would like to have a bowl of salmon chowder and then join Cynthia and the owner. She’d hastily explained that he was in town briefly and would like to try her new recipe.

  “I’ve only had salmon once,” Mr. Henderson said. “Wasn’t too happy with it.

  Guess I’m a beef and potatoes type guy. Most of us farmers are, you know.”

  “But we would love to try it again, now wouldn’t we, Chester?” Mrs. Henderson said.

  The four sat around the smaller of the two tables and had thick wedges of Cynthia’s bread with bowls of steamy salmon chowder.

  “So what do you think?” Cynthia asked after everyone had had at least two spoonfuls.

  “This is wonderful,” Mrs. Henderson said.

  “I agree. It’s sure got a good flavor.”

  “I’ve never tasted anything like it,” Gabe said.

  “And?” Cynthia asked. “That’s good or not?”

  Gabe grinned. “Good, of course.”

  They were just polishing off the chowder when a horn honked. Gabe’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh, I think that’s my friend in the car.”

  “Well, why didn’t she come in?” Mr. Henderson asked. “Does she have the plague or something?”

  “No. We just had a spat, and she insisted on staying in the car.”

  Gabe felt for his keys just as they heard a car start, and when he looked up, he realized he’d left them in the ignition.

  “She didn’t drive off and leave you, did she?” Mrs. Henderson asked.

  Gabe shrugged. “Nah. She’ll be back. She’s gone down to the corner store, probably.”

  But Natalie did not return, and after they had the cheese and fruit platter Cynthia had prepared, Gabe said he’d have to rent a car.

  “If we were going that way, we could take you,” Mr. Henderson offered.

  “I could take you, I suppose,” Cynthia offered and then remembered she had two more guests coming in.

  “No, the rental car will work fine.”

  Long after the Hendersons had settled down for the night—at nine they said it seemed like eleven because of the time change—Cynthia went online to see if there was anyone in the chat room or if there were any questions.

  “Dear Lion, I made the apple crisp tonight, and my husband ate half of it! I want some more apple recipes. Thank you, Laurie.”

  Cynthia quickly replied, then shut off the computer. This was going to be fun. And she loved the people who were staying the weekend. But what she couldn’t get out of her mind was Natalie and the way she had behaved. And even more, she thought about Gabe, wondering if he was truly happy with the situation. Somehow she felt he belonged here in Astoria, where his heart seemed to be.

  Gabe had two hours to think as he drove east toward Portland. Going through the familiar towns gave him small comfort. He had felt embarrassed tonight with Natalie making a spectacle over the dinner. Why was she so negative about things? He thought again of Grams and the lessons he’d learned at her knee. Her voice seemed to come to him now in the darkness and stillness of the car as he sped over the miles to his Portland apartment.

  “Don’t ever hurt anyone intentionally,” Grams had said. “And if someone hurts you, give them the benefit of the doubt. But if they are taking advantage of you, stand up for
your rights. God will give you the strength to do that, if you but ask.”

  Is this what Natalie is doing to me now? Am I letting her do it because I need her help with my goals to become a top financier?

  A full moon shone overhead, and Gabe remembered his childhood, walking along the riverbank, looking at the stars overhead, wondering if he would be someone someday.

  “But you are someone,” Grams said. “God doesn’t make junk. Just be true to your inner self. Be the best you can be.”

  Gabe breathed a prayer, the first he’d said in a long while.

  Lord, I need Your guidance. I need insight. Is Natalie the right person for me? If so, why does Cynthia’s face keep popping into my mind? Could I be blinded by the need to succeed instead of leaning on You?

  It was late when Gabe arrived at his apartment. He saw the Mercury parked on the street, and Natalie stood on the sidewalk, her arms crossed.

  “Give me the keys,” he said.

  “I suppose you’re angry.”

  He didn’t look at her. “Not angry, but my eyes were opened tonight.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning that you and I don’t have a real relationship. Meaning that I won’t be seeing you again.”

  “And all because of one incident where I lost my temper?”

  Gabe sighed. “No, Nat, it’s more, much more than that. I don’t have enough time to explain it, not that you’d listen if I did—”

  “So, that’s it? You’re breaking things off with me just like that?”

  Gabe didn’t have to look to know that her eyes were blazing.

  “You’ll feel differently tomorrow.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it.” He moved toward the porch.

  “Well, if that’s how you feel—” She removed the ruby ring he had given her on her birthday and flung it at him. “I hope you have a wonderful life with Miss Goody Baker!”

  Gabe said nothing but strolled up the steps and put the key in the lock, sudden relief filling his being.

  Chapter 6