The Chef's Mail Order Bride: A Sweet Western Historical Romance (Wild West Frontier Brides Book 1)

by Cindy Caldwell

  She finally got the last of the story out with a whoosh, and smiled triumphantly as she said, “And this is what he brought to me today, for the meat pies I gave him this morning. Those seem to be very popular and we could put them on the menu.”

  He set the coins in stacks neatly on the counter. He’d periodically glanced up at her while he set them up, and when she finished, he stood slowly.

  Turning to her, he said, “That’s a fair bit of money, Sadie. And you’ve been collecting that much since we opened the restaurant?”

  She picked up a dish towel and wrung it in her hands as she realized that he was not nearly as excited as she’d hoped he would be.

  As he crossed his arms over his chest, she said, “Not exactly. It started out a little more slowly, but it’s going well now.” She cleared her throat, folded the towel and set it on the counter, not meeting his glare.

  “So I slave away on these creations and you sell these meat pies behind my back?”

  Sadie thought of Suzanne’s words before, that she should have told him, but she pushed them to the back of her mind and turned to him, looking into his eyes.

  “Tripp Morgan, it wasn’t intentionally behind your back. It was just something that I liked to do. And isn’t it a good thing I did? We can pay the next installment on the mortgage with what I’ve made.”

  He shook his head slowly as he sat back down on the stool.

  “I appreciate that, but this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. The restaurant was supposed to be bringing in that much, and more.”

  “And that’s what I’m trying to tell you,” she said, sitting down beside him and placing her hand on his arm. “It can make that much money, and lots more, if you would change the menu, and add the dishes that people have been asking for. They want them badly, Tripp.”

  She smiled as she squeezed his hand, remembering the conversation she’d had with the customers, and particularly the stack of bread in the napkin of one of them to take home.

  His shoulders sagged as he sat before her. She remained silent as he fingered the stacks of coins on the counter. After a few minutes, he stood and rested his hands on the counter, looking out the window.

  “I can’t do it, Sadie. I’ve cooked all of that before, and left it behind. I stopped for a reason, and that reason hasn’t changed. I put months and months of effort and a lot of Beau’s money into this and it just can’t fail. I’ll have to think of something else, some other way to make it work. And if you don’t want to be my partner in this, I understand. You could sell your meat pies on your own and do very well, but don’t expect me to change what I’m doing. I just can’t, Sadie. I promised Katie.”

  Her heart sank as he turned toward the door. She remembered that Katie was the wife of Beau and Hank’s mother out on the ranch. What she didn’t understand was what she had to do with Tripp and the restaurant.

  Her head fell into her hands as he started up the stairs. She’d thought her idea was a good one and had been so proud of what she’d done with the meat pies, and now it seemed that all she’d done was made it worse. Much worse.

  * * *

  Sadie wiped at angry tears that refused to stop falling as she changed into her night dress and sat at the vanity. She gazed for a moment into the mirror as she reached up and pulled the pins from her hair, allowing her long, blonde hair to fall in waves past her shoulders.

  “How could he possibly think this is not a good idea?” she asked her reflection. “It’s a brilliant idea. The best idea. And who is this Katie person, anyway?”

  As she tugged the brush through her hair, her anger turned to sadness. As her strokes grew longer and slower, she sighed, wishing that Tripp had trusted her enough to tell her about Katie, and what it all meant to him.

  She set the brush down, too exhausted from her tears to braid her hair for the night, but sleep eluded her. She stared at the shadows on the pine ceiling cast by her candle, and her thoughts turned to her future. She’d come all this way to be with Suzanne. If Tripp no longer wanted her as his partner, where would she go? She felt she could make a go of a bakery, but would that be the right thing to do? Tripp would likely want her out of town on the first train.

  As her tears welled once more, she thought of actually leaving Tripp. The clenching of her heart and flutter in her belly when she thought of him—his eyes and his intensity and passion when he cooked, the soft touch of his hand, the joy of his laughter—told her in no uncertain terms that she cared for him. And deeply.

  She’d decided that it was something she had to put aside and deal with tomorrow, and was just drifting off to sleep when she was startled by a knock on her door and the sound of the door knob. She sat up like a shot, reaching for her robe that was draped across the foot of her bed. She’d barely gotten it on and walked to the door when Tripp poked his head in.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I saw the light under your door and thought you might still be awake,” he said, his eyes locked on hers and his head cocked to one side.

  Her heart was in her throat as she said, “What is it, Tripp? I imagined you wouldn’t want to see me at all after this evening.”

  She broke their gaze and looked at the floor, sorrow tugging at her as she spoke.

  Tripp let out a big sigh. He shifted the lantern to his other hand and took her hand in his. “Sadie, would you be willing to have a cup of tea with me? In the kitchen? I have something I need to tell you.”

  Her head jerked up at his touch, the unmistakable feelings present even still. Even after he’d ended their partnership.

  “I…I suppose that would be all right,” she said. It wasn’t as if she had to get up early to make meat pies.

  “Thank you,” he said, tugging at her hand as he turned toward the stairs, not letting go until they were seated in the kitchen. As he set the lantern down and turned to her, his brow furrowed and his eyes seemed locked on her. He shook his head slightly and closed his eyes.

  When he opened them, he said, “I know that you’ve wondered why this restaurant was so important to me. This particular restaurant, with this particular menu.”

  Her hand moved to her chest as she realized that he was going to tell her what she’d wanted to know since they’d met. Or at least she hoped he was.

  He cleared his throat and continued. “I…my…,” he said, stopping and rubbing the back of his neck.

  She placed her hand on his, silently encouraging him to continue.

  He covered her hand with his, sat up straight on his stool and said, “Things didn’t go so well for me when I was growing up.”

  He stood and began to pace in front of the stove. “I was orphaned when I was a young teenager. My parents were killed in an accident…we were all in the accident…on the way from Chicago to Tucson. My father had made arrangements to work there, and we were all very excited. I was injured in the accident, but they were killed, and it just about took the life out of me,” he said, stopping as he leaned up against the sink.

  “Oh, Tripp—” Sadie started.

  He held up his hand to her and said, “Please don’t, Sadie. I’m afraid if I don’t keep talking, I won’t be able to finish. It was not a good time for me.”

  She looked down at her hands and set them in her lap, vowing to wait to hear the whole story.

  “Beau and his wife, Katie, were there when the accident happened. They got me to a doctor and took me home with them, even though they had seven children already.” He paused for a moment and looked out the window before he continued.

  “Hank and I bunked together and became quite close, but I’d been an only child, and the six girls just scared me, I think,” he said, letting out a chuckle. “I tried to stay pretty far away from them. And, oddly enough, Katie was the best cook I’d ever met, and none of the girls liked to cook. So she kind of took me under her wing as I recovered and taught me everything she knew.”

  He sat back down on the stool opposite Sadie and leaned against the counter, his face turned away from her.


  He cleared his throat. “When I was old enough, I headed out on the trail with Beau and Hank as their cook. I loved everything about it, and I think I was quite good at it.”

  Sadie broke her vow, saying, “I have no doubt that you were,” before she remembered she wasn’t going to say anything.

  Tripp turned at the sound of her voice and smiled. “Katie thought I was talented, and wanted me to go to chef school. She and Beau didn’t see eye to eye on that one. He wanted me on the trail. But when I got injured and couldn’t go on the rides for a while, she wanted me to learn more, see more. It was something she’d always wanted to do, and since she couldn’t, she wanted to send me.”

  He reached out for her hands, taking both of them in his. “Sadie, Katie got sick. Real sick, and we knew she wasn’t ever going to get better. Not really. So Beau gave in and sent me to New York. I spent all that time wanting to make her proud, have her be the first guest at the restaurant, show her what I could do. Beau and Hank and the girls wanted it, too. It was kind of a family effort.”

  He hung his head at the word family. After he’d composed himself, he said, “I got word my last week of school, just when I was finishing up, that she’d passed. It was all I could do to finish up and not rush home.”

  He’d stood again, and Sadie brushed away a tear that had fallen.

  “Tripp, I’m so sorry,” she said, standing and moving a step closer.

  He took her hands again, pulling her to him as he said, “Don’t you see, Sadie? I have to do this. I have to do this for Katie.”

  She reached her arms around his neck, hugging him as her tears spread on his shoulder where she’d laid her head, her heart breaking for this man she now was certain that she loved.

  They stood for a few minutes, silent as Sadie let the story sink in. She pulled her head up and looked at him. “Thank you for telling me, Tripp. I imagine your heart was broken.”

  “It was,” he said, turning off the kettle as the water for their tea began to boil. He’d placed a tea steeper into a porcelain tea pot as he’d told his story, and now he filled it with the boiling water.

  “So now you know why I can’t quit,” he said, sitting down as he spoke, his shoulders sagging.

  She reached for his chin, pulling his face up toward hers. She took a deep breath and said, “Let me ask you something. Did Katie like the food that you prepared for the trail?”

  She looked into his eyes as he thought, sitting back down in front of him.

  “Actually, yes. She was my biggest fan. When we were back from the trail, she’d have parties for all the ranch-hands and friends from town—and I’d serve them all,” he said, his eyes twinkling at the memory. “She always said I was her best-kept secret, but it actually was the worst kept secret in all of Arizona.”

  “So she got pleasure from—well, other people’s pleasure, right?” she said.

  “Oh, yes. She was the most kind and generous person I’ve ever met. Well, until now, that is.”

  He cleared his throat and turned again to look out the window, as if seeing ghosts.

  She couldn’t help but smile, knowing he wouldn’t see her. “I’d venture a guess that she’d be pretty proud of anything you did in the restaurant, Tripp. If she just wanted you to learn and share what you know, it could look lots of different ways. Just so long as people are happy, right?” she said as he came around the corner toward her.

  Tripp sighed. “I don’t know what we could do.”

  Sadie tapped her finger on her chin. “I think I have an idea,” she said, her smile widening.

  Chapter 22

  By the time they’d had a cup of tea, she’d laid out her plan. She’d reminded him that everyone who tasted his trail dishes had said they were even better than before he went to school.

  “Katie would love that,” he said as he listened.

  “And if that many people came to the ranch and loved your food, they’ll be eager to come to the restaurant as well, right?”

  “Well, I suppose so,” he said slowly.

  “And what if we still had the menu we have now every Sunday night, for those people who love that, too? We could surely fill the house several times with those people if they’re all coming on the same evening,” she said triumphantly, sure he’d agree.

  And, sure enough, he did.

  He agreed to try it, that is. She decided that that was better than a flat-out refusal, and she set to work.

  At the kitchen table, Sadie hastily made up a list of the things people seemed most interested in, writing the last item with a flourish and handing it to him with a smile.

  He reached for it, his expression not nearly as happy as hers.

  “Are you sure we should do this?”

  “Tripp, you did the figures yourself. It’s our only option. To try something different or lose the restaurant. I certainly don’t want that to happen and I’m positive you don’t, either.”

  She walked around the table behind him, resting her hands on his shoulders.

  He rested his hands on hers and squeezed. “I don’t know how I got so lucky to find a partner who actually cares about this business—and me.”

  She rested her chin on his head and hugged him, saying, “I’m glad you think so. I feel pretty lucky myself. It must be my lucky apron.”

  His head popped up as he smiled. “You said you’d tell me about that if I told you about the trail,” he said.

  “Ah, that I did.”

  She sat down on the stool and cleared her throat. “I imagine that Suzanne told you about our parents dying. In an accident, too, just like yours. But I was much older.”

  “I did hear about that, Sadie. I am very sorry. And then you lost the bakery?

  She looked up at him, fiddling with the hem of her robe. “I didn’t lose it, exactly.”

  His eyebrows rose as he studied her. “But I thought—”

  “You remember that James and Suzanne offered to loan you the money for the restaurant?”

  She leaned against the counter, her hands folded in front of her.

  “Well, yes. I wonder why they didn’t offer the same to you? I guess I hadn’t really thought about that.”

  She smiled as she let out a sigh. “They did.”

  Tripp plopped down on the stool, rubbing his forehead. “I’m confused, Sadie. I thought you loved the bakery.”

  “I did, Tripp. But with the bank at my back, working that hard, not having much of a life—well, I declined. In the same letter I received from Suzanne offering the loan, she also said someone here needed a wife…and a partner. I made my choice right then and there.”

  He stood and walked to her, taking her hands in his.

  “Are you telling me that you…wanted to come? You didn’t have to, but you wanted to?”

  She looked down at their hands, loving the feel of his.

  “Suzanne said that she felt this was something that I needed to do. You know about the twin connection—I just trusted her. And wanted an adventure.”

  “And you’re not sorry?” he said, pulling her chin up so their eyes met.

  Without hesitation, she said, “Not one little bit, Tripp Morgan. This has been an adventure, and I could never have imagined what an exciting one it would be.”

  “I had no idea either, Sadie,” he said, not taking his eyes from hers.

  She pulled her hands back, although she couldn’t think of anywhere else she’d rather be. She’d just confessed her feelings for him, and wasn’t at all sure still how he felt about her.

  Just as she opened her mouth to say it was time for bed, he said, “That still doesn’t explain the apron, though.”

  She stepped around him, reaching for her cup of tea. “At the end of our last day at the bakery, where we’d given all of the pastries, bread—everything—away for free, I felt incredibly free. But my assistant, Clara, had been my lifelong friend and had worked in the bakery almost as long as I had.”

  He sat back down as she continued.


  “At the end of the last day, as we were saying our goodbyes, she untied her apron, lifted it over her head and told me how envious she was of me, for choosing a new life. And that I needed to wear the apron forever, so she could watch over me.”

  She walked over to where the apron hung and lifted the blue fabric. “It’s been with me every day since.”

  He laughed, and said, “Yes, I’ve noticed.”

  She smiled as she turned back toward him. “And it’s proven to be pretty lucky after all, don’t you think?”

  “I sure do. Thank you for telling me, Sadie. I’m sorry that I got upset earlier. And thank you for one last ditch effort,” he said, standing and turning toward her. “And I’m awfully sorry for what I said earlier. I behaved badly, and I hope you can forgive me.”

  He opened his arms to her, and she stepped toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

  He pulled back, staring at her intently, as if he was seeing her for the first time. She didn’t quite know what to say as he reached up and put a stray lock of her hair behind her ear.

  “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen your hair down before, Mrs. Morgan. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

  Heat crept into her cheeks as she pulled away, her hand reaching to her hair. “Well, thank you, Mr. Morgan,” she said with a smile as she changed the subject. “And thank you for agreeing to try this. I really think it’s going to be wonderful.”

  She started toward the door.

  “One thing, Sadie. If we do this tomorrow, is there enough time to get the word out? Won’t people be expecting the regular menu?”

  The corners of her lips turned up as she winked at him. As she headed to the stairs to rest up for tomorrow’s event, she said, “You leave that part to me.”

  Chapter 23

  Sadie’s eyes flew open at the first robin’s chirp, the sun not even over the horizon yet. She could barely contain her excitement as she dressed, set breakfast out for Tripp and left a note saying she was going in early.