“It was kind of like a donut, and it was called bear paws. A little sugar, cinnamon and butter, but for some reason I got it right every time. At least it made them think I was a good cook.”
She sat back against the tree closest to her and pulled her knees in, straightening her skirts over them. She didn’t want to embarrass him again after the most recent “ankle” incident. Who knew he was so shy?
“Ah, we called those bear claws in the bakery. They were very popular.”
He picked up a stick near him and broke it into smaller pieces. “Yes, they are. But it’s not something I’m particularly interested in. I always wanted to try new things.”
She’d been very interested in how he’d gone from wagon trail cook to culinary school in New York, and she re-arranged the leaves by her side casually as she hoped he’d continue talking.
“So, what happened that you ended up in New York?” she asked softly. She remembered his quick change of subject last time it had come up, the first night she’d met him. She continued her leaf stacking and waited.
When she looked up, his gaze was on the horizon. She crumbled one of the leaves, hoping the noise would bring him back to her and she might find out where this passion for cooking had come from.
She hadn’t mentioned that Suzanne and James had told her that he’d been injured and his boss had sent him. She wanted to let him tell her when he was ready, and they’d been so busy opening the restaurant that it just hadn’t been the right time.
He shook his head quickly, as if to ward off a memory that was unwelcome. He leaned to pick up her bowl and said, “You ready for dessert?”
She sighed, picked up all the leaves and crumpled them at her feet.
“Sure,” she said, as she set to picking up the rest of the dishes, disappointed that she’d been close to learning something about him and the moment had passed.
He handed her a small cup of something that was still cool to the touch. Again, she smelled it and looked up quickly as he laughed. “I’m not trying to poison you. My actual favorite dessert is peach pie, but I can’t make one. This is a simple custard with some burnt sugar on top. I think you’ll like it. It’s from France.”
As she looked at him with a wary glance, he pulled out a few fresh blueberries and sprinkled them on top, handing her a spoon. “Go on, try it.”
She placed a spoonful on her tongue, and her eyebrows shot up, the creamy, cool texture of the custard surprising her, and then smiled with delight as she tasted the blueberry and crunchy topping.
“That is one of the most delicious things I’ve ever tasted,” she said, all the while wondering how she’d get to know anything more about him than his recipes.
Chapter 14
“Thank you for the lovely picnic,” she said as he shook the reins and guided the horses back down the hill.
The afternoon had been lovely, the weather perfect, and she once again marveled at how she’d expected the terrain to be much different than it had turned out to be. The cactuses and snakes that Finn had worried about weren’t as abundant as she thought they’d be. And for all the stories, she certainly hadn’t expected a rushing stream.
He glanced at her, a smile crinkling his eyes. As she tore her gaze from the landscape, their eyes met—and she felt an unmistakable flutter overtake her. She remembered the first time she’d seen him—the flutter was there then, too. But this felt a little different.
Although he was far from sharing his innermost feelings with her, something that she realized she wanted, this particular flutter was a little bigger, a little deeper, and she wondered again if there would ever be anything between them but an “arrangement”.
He quickly looked away, and as they rounded a bend, she saw him nod toward the horizon. As she turned to see what he was nodding at, she gasped, the Arizona sunset taking her by surprise. Since she’d been there, she’d been inside the restaurant or Suzanne’s house at sundown, and hadn’t seen a sunset here before. And what she saw took her breath away.
“Nothing quite like an Arizona sunset, is there?” he asked, smiling. He stopped the buggy and tipped his hat up, looking up at the clouds as the sun had just departed. “I really missed this when I was in New York. It was my favorite part of being on the trail.”
She couldn’t think of words to describe the incredible colors…orange, yellow, pink and blue, the clouds streaking across the sky. She watched in amazement as the colors turned even deeper as they sat.
“It really is best about ten minutes after the sun sets,” Tripp said as he flicked the reins to start the horses again. “It’ll be a nice ride home. Not too far from Suzanne’s.”
She continued to watch as the colors changed and the first star dotted the sky. They’d stayed much longer than she’d expected, and she felt relaxed with him at the helm—safe and comfortable. She rested her hand on his arm as they turned away from the sunset and headed into town.
“Thank you, Tripp. It was a lovely afternoon. I appreciate you sharing this with me.”
He took the reins in one hand and patted hers with the other. Again, their eyes met, and he cleared his throat and turned back to the road.
“You’re welcome. I thought you might appreciate it, and it seems I was right.”
“I appreciated lots of things about today,” she said as her heart fluttered at the memory of earlier.
As he pulled the buggy up to Suzanne’s house, she remembered how embarrassed he’d been when he saw her at the creek with her stockings off. As she waited for him to come around to help her down, she smiled and had an idea.
She turned sideways as he stepped around and pulled her skirts up to her knee, extending her hand to him. He smiled as he reached for her hand, and then stopped short when he saw her skirts—or more accurately her exposed ankles resting daintily on the sideboard.
He kept her hand in his, but stared for a moment, shaking his head.
“Is everything all right, Tripp?” she said in the sweetest voice she could muster.
He might think this was a business arrangement, but she intended to do anything she could to get him to see her as his wife. If she was going to be married, it might as well be a real one.
He let go of her hand and gently pulled her skirts down over her ankles, looking from side to side down the empty street. Grabbing her waist and lifting her off the buggy, he set her down in front of him and lifted her chin, his green eyes on hers.
“Yes, definitely. Everything is all right. Better than all right. And I appreciated much about today also,” he said, his cheeks a little flushed.
She closed her eyes, hoping that he might kiss her, but they flew open again as he grabbed her hand and headed toward the house.
“It’s getting dark and we’d better get inside. We have lots to do tomorrow at the restaurant,” he said, and the flutter that she’d been getting accustomed to, and in fact been looking forward to, faded.
* * *
They had coffee at Suzanne’s and discussed the plans for the next day. The twins ran in and out of the dining room, laughing and seeming to answer each other without a question being asked.
Sadie remembered that it had been the same way with her and Suzanne when they were little. It seemed they’d almost been able to read each other’s minds, and they’d been told that it was common with twins. And it seemed that Lily and Lucy had the same close connection.
So it hadn’t surprised her when Suzanne had asked her back into the kitchen to help her put away the dishes after they’d finished their coffee.
“You might as well say it out loud. You’re falling for him, aren’t you?”
Sadie’s eyes jerked up from the coffee cup she’d been drying and she turned to look at her sister. She was surprised that she’d noticed, actually, and she let out a laugh.
“That obvious?” she said, setting the cup on the counter next to the stack of saucers she’d already dried.
With a sigh, she turned around and leaned back against the counter, wrin
ging the towel in her hands. “I think…I don’t know. We haven’t really gotten to spend much time together talking. We’ve been too busy with the restaurant. And he’s…well, he’s…”
Suzanne walked over and took the towel out of her sister’s hands, folded it and set it on the counter. “He’s lots of things. I’ve known him for quite a while, and he’s a little complex.”
Sadie emptied the remainder of the coffee into the sink and paused, looking out the window at the stars.
“Yes, complex is a good word. He’s definitely confident about his cooking skills,” she said as she turned around.
“That’s an understatement,” Suzanne said, putting the rest of the clean plates in the cupboard. “But I think most of it comes from passion rather than arrogance. And he just wants to make people happy with food. That’s what it boils down to.”
A sigh escaped Sadie’s lips as she rubbed her forehead. “I know. And I admire him for it. But he’s so wrapped up in this restaurant that it’s almost impossible to get his attention unless there’s a knife in my hand.”
“Uh-oh,” Suzanne said with a smile. “It’s that serious?”
“What?” Sadie said, looking up. “Oh, no, for chopping, I mean.” She laughed at her sister’s joke. “I’m not that desperate.”
“I know.” Suzanne put the rest of the pie in the icebox and sat down on one of the kitchen stools, placing her hand over Sadie’s. “And I also know that you care for him. I can see it in the way you look at him.”
“Do you think there’s any hope for us, Suzanne? I can’t help the way I feel when he’s around. He’s…”
“Interesting, passionate, kind, gifted and…handsome?”
Sadie’s eyebrows rose as she realized Suzanne had said out loud exactly what she’d been thinking. “How did you know?”
“I know you, that’s how. And I know him. He is all that and more, Sadie. Like I said from the very beginning, I have high hopes for this…arrangement. Give it time.”
Suzanne pulled Sadie into a hug, and she reached up to push a stray piece of Sadie’s blonde hair that matched her own behind her sister’s ear.
“You know, it wouldn’t hurt for you to wear your hair down once in a while. I haven’t seen it down since you’ve been here,” she said as she patted her sister’s cheek.
Sadie’s hand flew to her bun and her brows furrowed. “I…I don’t wear it down. Not since I’ve been running the bakery. I can’t risk stray hair in any of the food. One time…”
Sadie stopped mid-sentence as Lily and Lucy tore through the kitchen, in one door and out the other, and laughed.
“Were we like that?” she asked.
“Don’t you remember?” Suzanne said, laughing. “That’s why they took us to the bakery when we were so little. So they could keep us busy and out of trouble.”
Out of trouble, Sadie thought. That’s probably what I should do. Leave it alone and stay out of trouble.
“Thanks, Suzanne,” she said, squeezing her hand and wondering if it was even possible for her to…stay out of trouble.
Chapter 15
She gave Suzanne an extra tight hug as they said their goodbyes on the porch. It wasn’t far to their house from Suzanne and James’s, so they’d just walked in front of the horses, Tripp leading them behind.
They walked in silence, Sadie not sure what to talk about after their interesting day…and her conversation with Suzanne. She’d had no idea that her attraction to Tripp was so obvious, and she didn’t want to embarrass him any further. But she wasn’t quite ready to let the day end, although her mind kept telling her that she should just leave well enough alone.
“It’s a little chilly, don’t you think?” Sadie said as the arrived at the house.
Sadie had just pulled her wrap more tightly around her shoulders against the chill and she wondered if he’d noticed.
His head jerked toward her, as if he’d been deep in thought.
“Yes, it is,” he said. She wondered if he’d noticed her at all.
“Would you care for a little hot chocolate before bed?”
His eyebrows furrowed as he gazed at her in the moonlight, his hand tightening around the reins. He cleared his throat and said, “Yes. Yes, that would be nice. I’ll go put the horses and buggy away and be right in.”
She felt his gaze on her—or at least she thought she did—as he waited for her to close the door behind her. She hung her wrap, hat and gloves on the rack by the door and grabbed her blue apron, pulling it over her head and tying it behind her.
She sat on the kitchen stool while the milk heated, drumming her fingers on the counter as her chin rested in her hand. I don’t know what I’m even hoping for, she though as she got up to stir the milk so it wouldn’t scald.
She added a bit of the chocolate powder she’d saved precious room in her suitcase for when she’d come from Chicago. She hadn’t yet made any, and she added a little sugar while she finished stirring the mugs and set the spoon down, hoping Tripp would like it.
Setting the mugs on a tray along with two biscuits she’d made and fresh butter, she headed into the parlor, stopping short as she rounded the corner. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of Tripp, his back to her as he blew on the logs he’d placed in the fireplace and fanned it with his hand at the same time.
The light of the fire almost made his brown hair glow, and as he’d removed his coat, she could see the muscles of his back move against his shirt.
She stood for a moment, watching him and wondering if this is what he’d done on the trail, getting the fire ready to cook with and take care of his men.
Although she set the tray down quietly on the small table, he started and turned, his green eyes also lit by the fire as he looked from her to the tray, smiling.
“I thought you might like a fire,” he said as he looked away and down at the flames.
She picked up a mug of chocolate and carried it over to him, her heart skipping a beat as his hand brushed hers while he took it. He looked up as skin touched skin and backed away, sipping the hot chocolate and letting out an admiring sigh.
“This is wonderful,” he said as he wrapped his hands around the warm mug. “I haven’t had this since I left New York.”
Her tension eased as she turned and picked up her own mug, sipping it and settling down into a chair by the fire, watching him as he sat on the hearth.
He set his mug on the small table beside the chair and rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together and staring in front of him.
Sadie sat quietly, looking into the fire, unsure of what to say. She’d tried flirting, laughing, teasing, being serious, all in one day, and felt fresh out of ideas to catch his attention. She’d just decided to give up when he looked from the ground to her, catching her gaze.
“You have beautiful blue eyes,” he said, before looking back down.
She smiled, her heart lifting a bit.
“Thank you,” she said, her brows rising in surprise that he’d noticed anything about her.
“You and Suzanne look very much alike. Her hair is beautiful,” he said, turning toward her. “I imagine yours is, too.”
His head cocked to one side as he looked at her.
Her hand flew to her bun, remembering what Suzanne had said about wearing her hair down. She smiled at the compliment and put another small stray curl back into a pin at the base of her neck.
“Thank you,” she said as her cheeks heated. “I am not in the habit of wearing it down, though, like she is.”
“Why not?” he asked quietly, not taking his eyes off of her.
Flustered under his gaze, she tried to lighten the mood. She’d thought she’d wanted his attention, but now that she had it, she wasn’t quite sure what to do.
“I was rather young when I first started working in my parents’ bakery. They’d taken Suzanne and me with them when we’d caused a little too much trouble at home without them and they needed to keep their eye on us.” She looked fr
om the fire to him.
“I can imagine you two were a handful if you were anything like Lucy and Lily,” he said, laughing.
She took a deep breath and continued, glad she’d re-directed the conversation.
“One of the first jobs we had was decorating Christmas cookies for a very wealthy client. She was a good client of my parents’, and she had said she was fine with us experimenting on some of her cookies as it was to be a children’s party.”
“I bet those cookies turned out interestingly,” he said, picking up his mug and taking another sip.
Sadie laughed. “Yes, they did. I’m not sure that they resembled anything Christmas-related, but we had fun. And the customer was pleased with them, so my parents were happy.”
“So, what does this have to do with you keeping your hair up?”
She set down her empty mug and sighed.
“The customer came back the next day and presented my father with a small, silk bag. When she opened it, it had several long blonde strands of hair in it that had been in the box. Not the cookies, but the box. She graciously thanked him for the cookies and asked him if next time, he’d leave out the special ingredient.”
“Oh, my,” he said, his smile wide.
“Oh, my, indeed. Suzanne and I were both horrified—as was my mother—but my father just laughed it off. The next day, though, he handed us both pins and caps and made us wear them forever more,” she said, her head shaking at the memory. “And I continued, as I stayed. I imagine Suzanne started wearing hers down when she left the bakery for Arizona.”
She imagined that Tripp, being a fellow cook, could appreciate the horror she’d felt, and it was clear he did, although he seemed to think it was pretty funny. She couldn’t help but smile as he continued to chuckle.
“I’m glad you think it’s amusing, and I guess it sort of is. But it sure wasn’t at the time, and I’ve worn my hair up ever since. And my apron, pretty much, so my dress isn’t white, covered with flour.”
The Chef's Mail Order Bride: A Sweet Western Historical Romance (Wild West Frontier Brides Book 1) Page 8
