Patriot's Passing: Hawg Heaven Cozy Culinary Mysteries, Book 1

by Summer Prescott

“Oh? Where was that?” she scooped up several strips of perfectly cooked bacon and set them on a stack of paper towels.

  “It was this little town by the highway, called Chatsworth,” Rossalyn explained, reaching for one of the sizzling strips.

  “Oh, right. Your father and I have been through there. There’s a bigger town nearby that has a ton of very interesting furniture stores,” Margo nodded. “Put the rest of that bacon on a plate and take it to the table, Rossie,” she directed, pointing with her spatula.

  Rossalyn transferred the bacon from the paper towels to a plate. “Yeah, it was just this little building that had once been called the Sugar Shack, it was kind of cute, so we checked it out.”

  “Was it for sale or something?”

  “Yeah, there was a sign in the window,” she took a sip of her coffee. “But I don’t even remember the name of the real estate company that was offering it.”

  “Williams and Lockman,” Ryan supplied, ladling sausage gravy onto another round of biscuits.

  Both women stared at him.

  “How on earth did you remember that?” his mother asked, impressed.

  “Dunno,” he shrugged, chewing.

  “I wonder if they have a website,” Margo commented. “You could show it to me. You know how I love old buildings.”

  “Well, this wasn’t exactly old, it just hadn’t been inhabited for a while, and…” Rossalyn began.

  “Here it is,” Ryan handed his grandmother his cellphone, on which he’d pulled up the listing for the Sugar Shack.

  “Well, aren’t you efficient?” Margo grinned, taking the phone and scrolling through the pictures, while her daughter stood at her elbow, craning her neck to see. “Oh my, this is really cute. What potential,” she nodded.

  “What does it say about it?” Rossalyn asked.

  “It used to be a chocolate shop, but the owner died. It’s been vacant for… three years, and is priced to sell.”

  “Priced to sell? What does that mean?”

  “It means that you could afford it,” her mother turned to her abruptly, a gleam in her eye.

  Rossalyn burst into laughter. “Oh, well, that’s just what I’ll do. I’ll buy a cute little building in the middle of nowhere and start a business,” she scoffed.

  “Might be fun,” Ryan observed, stuffing a huge bite of biscuit, dribbling gravy, into his mouth.

  “Could be just the new start that you’re looking for,” Margo shrugged. “I hear Chatsworth schools are pretty good.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Rossalyn looked from the earnest face of her son to the challenging look of her mother in disbelief.

  “You do have a degree in business, Rossie,” Margo reminded her with a smile.

  “Yes, but that means that I might be qualified to work in an office environment, not start a business that I know nothing about. What would I even do? I have no idea how to use that building. I’m not exactly the entrepreneurial type,” she protested.

  “You’ve always been clever and resourceful. Maybe it’s something to think about, that’s all I’m saying,” her mother shrugged.

  “I think it would be cool. I could work there after school and during the summer,” Ryan piped up, taking his plate to the sink. “You know what Dad always said. Be brave, be true, get it done. We could get it done,” he said casually. “I’m going to get changed and go help Grandpa in the garage.”

  Rossalyn stared after him, thinking how much he had reminded her of Will just then, and the lump in her throat came back.

  “Don’t stress out over it, Rossie, just don’t dismiss the possibility out of hand. There’s no reason that you can’t start your own business and succeed. You’re from good hearty stock,” her mother winked. “Now sit down and eat some breakfast, you’re nothing but skin and bones.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Rossalyn attempted to joke.

  “You have to keep your strength up, honey. You can’t be strong for him if you’re not strong for you first,” her mother counseled, sitting down across from her, coffee mug in hand.

  “I know,” Rossalyn murmured. “I just don’t know what to do.”

  “Well, the good news is that the world isn’t going to end if you don’t make a decision right this second,” Margo smiled and patted her daughter’s hand.

  The both heard the sound of laughter and looked out the kitchen window to see Ryan playing a game of one-on-one with her dad.

  “He’s such a good boy. He doesn’t deserve all this pain,” Rossalyn whispered, tears welling.

  “Of course he doesn’t, neither do you, but it is what it is, and you’re a survivor. Will knew that when he married you. You’re going to get through this. You’ll choose a direction when you’re ready, and in the meantime, you just enjoy being here at home, okay?”

  Rossalyn nodded, her tears spattering the table beside her coffee mug.

  “Now, you’re going to eat some breakfast, then I’m taking you downtown to get some clothes that will actually fit the new you. Your current wardrobe looks like it could fall off of you at any second, and that would positively scandalize the town folk,” Margo teased. “Besides, a little shopping therapy never hurt anyone. Your father has a whole day of “man stuff” planned for Ryan, so we’re on our own for a bit. Sound good?”

  “Sounds really good, Mom. Thank you,” Rossalyn attempted a smile.

  “Oh honey, don’t thank me just yet. I plan on exploiting your free labor. You’re going to help me slice up apples for pies tonight. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  “Good, now finish up here and we’ll get started on our girl’s day.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  * * *

  Rossalyn felt much better after a day of shopping and running errands with her mother, wrapped in the comfort of a hometown that had changed very little since she left it. The ivy-covered walls of her high school still looked stately and lovely against the backdrop of trees transformed by autumn’s yellows, oranges and reds, and the uncrowded downtown was still a wonderful place to shop in a leisurely manner. She and Margo had stopped for lunch at a diner that was older than she was, and she’d had the most amazing slab of thick-sliced ham with cheesy potatoes and a scoop of delicious greens. Cleaning her plate wasn’t yet a realistic expectation, but she was full and satisfied when she left, and her mother had nodded with approval at the amount that she had managed to eat.

  Trying on outfits had actually been fun, and Rossalyn had come away with a few pairs of crisp new jeans, warm long-sleeved shirts, and a handful of solid color cardigans that would go with everything and keep her warm this fall and winter. Margo had made her purchase new socks and underwear, just because, and they’d both indulged in scented candles. After a stop in the men’s section for some hooded sweatshirts and new ankle-high shoes for Ryan, the two women were happy, tired, and ready to head home.

  “Welcome back, ladies,” Rossalyn’s father, Brent, boomed when they came in the door. “I was thinking that we should go to the football game over at the high school tonight, just for old times’ sake. The weather is supposed to be perfect, so there’ll be a bonfire afterwards, and I hear the band is pretty good this year,” he announced.

  “Wow, that would bring back some memories,” Rossalyn smiled. “What do you think?” she asked Ryan, who was busy lacing up the new shoes that he’d pulled from a shopping bag.

  “Sure,” he replied automatically, sitting on the floor, focused on the task at hand.

  “Well then it’s settled,” her dad nodded, picking up her purchases and heading for the stairs.

  “Dad, you don’t have to do that,” she trailed after him.

  “I know,” he called over his shoulder with a grin. “I haven’t carried shopping bags upstairs for my little girl for a long time… it’s kinda nice.”

  “You’re going to spoil me.”

  “Challenge accepted,” he shot back, trotting toward her room.

  Rossalyn knew that she really was the l
uckiest woman in the world when it came to having amazing parents. Aside from a brief rough period in junior high when she’d been trying to assert her independence in some not-so-healthy ways, her relationship with them had been smooth sailing. Her mom and dad both loved and supported her unconditionally, and had always been there when she needed them. She just hadn’t thought that at her age, she’d need to depend on them yet again.

  ***

  “Mom… what’s that awesome smell?” Ryan asked as they neared the entrance gates.

  “Grilled pork chops,” Rossalyn grinned, fully in the grip of nostalgia. The smell took her back to high school in a major way. Coming from a small town, everyone attended every home game and the grilled pork chop sandwiches, sold by the local lodge, were the Friday night dinner of choice for most families in attendance. “You can’t go to a Hartman Hornets football game without getting one,” she grinned. “I can’t believe they still have those.”

  “Brent, take Ryan and go get sandwiches and drinks for us,” Margo steered her husband in the general direction of the concession stands.

  “Grandpa, can I have two sandwiches?” they heard Ryan ask as the two walked away.

  “That boy is in a growth spurt,” Rossalyn chuckled, watching them go.

  “That’s a good thing,” her mother nodded sagely. “He’s bouncing back. Let’s go find seats up close, so Ryan can get a good view of the action.”

  Margo laid a heavy woolen blanket down lengthwise on the metal bleachers to save spots for Brent and Ryan and she snuggled up with Rossalyn in the middle of the row.

  “Feel like old times?” she asked her daughter with a fond smile.

  “Yes it does, except that I’m here with you rather than my friends,” Rossalyn teased.

  “Rossalyn Moberly?” an incredulous feminine voice squeaked out.

  “No, it’s Channing…” Rossalyn replied before looking up. Then, “Cindy? Cindy Huisenga?” she asked, seeing one of her former classmates.

  “It’s Taylor now. Oh my gosh, girl… I can’t believe you’re here,” Cindy exclaimed, plunking down beside her and giving her a hug. “I mean… I’m so sorry, I heard what… happened and all,” she faltered, her guileless blue eyes wide with sympathy.

  “Thanks. I thought I’d visit with my mom and dad for a while. It’s nice to be home,” she smiled bravely, hating it when Will’s death came up in conversation and hoping that well-meaning Cindy would be gone by the time Ryan got back with his pork chop sandwiches.

  “Well, hey, maybe we can get together and have lunch or something, sometime. I mean, I don’t usually go out to eat, but you could come over to the house and I can make soup and sandwiches,” Cindy offered.

  “Sure, that sounds great,” Rossalyn nodded mechanically, hoping that her fake smile would pass muster.

  “Great seeing you again,” Cindy hugged her once more and gave a small wave when she walked away.

  “Well, that was nice,” Margo commented neutrally.

  “Hmm…” Rossalyn’s reply was noncommittal. “Why do you suppose she doesn’t go out to eat?”

  “She can’t afford it. She married Bobby Taylor, and he used to work at the mobile home factory, but once it closed, he couldn’t find a job. He bags groceries over at Baum’s market, and she cleans houses. Hartman isn’t a very good place to find a job these days,” her mother explained in a low voice.

  “Wow, that’s sad, I had no idea,” Rossalyn murmured. “I wonder what happened to the rest of my classmates.”

  “Well, those who left town have done pretty well, from what I understand. Those who stuck around seemed to end up pretty much like Cindy Taylor.”

  “Hey Mom! I ate one of these on the way back here, and they’re awesome,” Ryan mounted the bleachers like a gazelle, with a mouthful of pork sandwich, interrupting the conversation.

  “I told you,” Rossalyn grinned, accepting a soda and a foil-wrapped sandwich from her dad.

  The Hornets won the game by two touchdowns, and the mood was festive as a bonfire was lit outside the perimeter of the football field.

  “Mom, we’re going to the bonfire, right?” Ryan gazed up at her with such hope and enthusiasm that she couldn’t say no.

  Her parents had begged off, claiming old age and fatigue, so if she didn’t stay, Ryan couldn’t. Being here with his grandparents had done wonders for him. He was smiling again and opening up, and she just wanted him to continue having fun and being a thirteen-year-old boy.

  “Yep, I suppose we can stay for a bit. We’ll have some s’mores and listen to the band and then go,” Rossalyn agreed, despite the fact that it had been a long day and she was bone-tired.

  “Cool. I’ll go get some skewers and stuff,” he promised, darting off toward the s’more booth where the cheerleaders were handing out supplies.

  “Rossie?” a male voice asked this time, and Rossalyn looked up into the eyes of her high school sweetheart.

  “Jake?” she said, her heart pounding for some odd reason.

  Her ex-boyfriend looked even more handsome, now that he was all grown up.

  “Hey, great to see you,” he grinned, showing impressively even, white teeth. “What brings you back home?”

  “I’m staying with my folks for a while, my… my husband died in Afghanistan,” Rossalyn admitted, biting her lip.

  “Oh… gosh. I’m so sorry,” Jake sobered, his dark eyes grave. “Are you okay? Is there anything that I can…”

  “Hey, Mom, I got the marshmallows,” Ryan announced, proudly bearing two long, lethal-looking spikes, two giant marshmallows, graham crackers and half of a chocolate bar, which was already starting to melt into his palm.

  “Here, let me help you with that,” Rossalyn grabbed the skewers, glad for the diversion.

  “Is this your son?” Jake smiled.

  “Yep, this is Ryan,” she couldn’t help but grin with pride and love. “Ryan, this is Jake Blanchard, we went to high school together.”

  “Nice to meet you Mr. Blanchard,” the teenager responded as he’d been programmed to do his entire life. “I’d shake your hand, but I’m sticky right now.”

  “No problem. Good meeting you, Ryan. Rossie, I’ve gotta run, but I’ll look you up. We could have a cup of coffee or something,” he offered politely.

  “That would be nice,” she nodded, affixing the fist-sized marshmallow to her spear.

  Jake left and she watched him go, wondering about the flips and turns that her stomach was currently performing. Guilt and shame flooded through her, and she looked down at the marshmallow, focusing her thoughts on achieving the perfect golden brown crust. Will hadn’t been gone for even two months and she was acting like a love-struck teenager around Jake Blanchard.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  * * *

  “Now, I know you don’t eat like this every day, Mom,” Rossalyn sighed, taking in the bowl of fluffy scrambled eggs and heaping plate of sausage links on the table.

  “Nope, I sure don’t. Your father and I usually just grab a bagel or a bowl of oatmeal and some fruit, but there’s a growing young man in this house now, and he needs his protein,” Margo answered easily as she buttered thick slabs of toast. “Isn’t that right, Ryan?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the young man said, scooping eggs onto his plate and shooting a mischievous glance at his mother, who kissed the top of his head on her way by.

  Rossalyn headed straight for the coffee pot and poured herself a steaming cup. Taking a fork out of the drawer, she speared a sausage link from the plate on the table and leaned against the counter, taking a small bite and savoring the crispy, spicy meat.

  “I think I’ve had more pork in the last two days than I’ve had in the past six months,” she chuckled, savoring her mother’s cooking.

  “Can’t go wrong with pork,” Margo grinned. “That’ll put some meat on those bones. You should have some toast too.”

  “Nah, I’m good,” Rossalyn replied, lost in thought.

  “I saw this book in the libr
ary when Grandpa and I went over there the other day,” Ryan piped up, busily shoveling eggs into his mouth and wrapping toast around his sausage like a hotdog. “It was all about different things that you can make with bacon. I flipped through the pictures and wanted to eat every single thing that was in there.”

  “You always want to eat every single thing,” his mother teased. “What was the name of the book?”

  Ryan shrugged. “I don’t know. Bacon Bonanza or something like that. It had a picture of bacon on the cover, that’s why I picked it up. Grandpa took me to the diner for a BLT after that, and he let me have extra bacon.”

  “Sounds delicious,” his grandmother replied, so glad that he enjoyed spending time with Brent.

  Her husband had been at a bit of a loss as to what to do with his time once he closed his accounting firm, but Ryan seemed to have breathed new life into his existence.

  “Hey Mom, what’s on your agenda for today?” Rossalyn asked suddenly, still seeming very pensive.

  “Not much at all, actually. I’m going to drop off some boxes as the Community Center for the Fall Flea Market, but after that, I’m wide open. Why?”

  Rossalyn glanced at Ryan, then at her mother, looking as though she had reached a decision. “Well, I thought that maybe if Ryan could hang out with Dad today, maybe we could have another girls’ day and do some antiquing or something.”