by Karen Kirst
“I’m not sure.” Holding her bonnet by the ribbons, she let it dangle in the folds of her skirt. The sunlight filtering through the trees overhead created patterns on her hair and clothes. “When Mrs. Greene still lived here, she paid Jessica and Jane to supply the desserts. The place did good business. No one was more surprised than the twins when Mr. Copeland canceled the agreement. The food quality went down soon after.”
“I’ve seen Jessica’s desserts on display at the mercantile.”
“Maybe we can purchase something after lunch. It will be money well spent, I assure you.”
“I’d like that.” He glanced over. “I had a brief conversation with Alexander Copeland the other day.”
“Did you?” Her eyebrows rose. “That’s surprising. He’s a hermit. Rarely interacts with the locals unless absolutely necessary. Even the employees say he keeps their conversations to a minimum. What’s he like?”
“Unhappy.” They both paused as a pair of squirrels darted across the lane. “I believe he’s suffering from an illness. He disnae look well.”
“Perhaps that’s the reason he doesn’t socialize. Although, if his health isn’t good, I’m not sure why he doesn’t sell.”
They fell into a comfortable silence, and Duncan caught her hand, threading his fingers through hers. This was nice. Being together without working on some task or another. He liked teaching her things, but he also enjoyed engaging her in conversation. She had a sharp, intuitive mind.
When they reached Main Street, they noticed a commotion outside the café.
“What’s going on?” Caroline’s grip tightened.
“Let’s find out.”
People were knotted in front of the large windows, peering through the glass and whispering in hushed tones. Duncan was about to inquire about the problem when the door opened and Ben MacGregor appeared, his arm slung around Alexander’s waist as he guided him through the throng. The owner’s face was pale and sweaty, his mouth twisted in pain, and he was leaning heavily on the deputy.
“Give us some room,” Ben ordered, his demeanor grim.
The people parted to let them pass, their expressions more fascinated than sympathetic. Alexander groaned and clutched his stomach. His gaze lifted and met Duncan’s for an instant. The torment in his eyes went far beyond any physical ailment. Duncan wondered if the man had any friends or family, anyone who cared enough to help.
The group was silent as they watched the pair hobble in the direction of Doc’s office. The young waitress emerged from the café.
“Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Copeland wanted me to relay the message that we’re still open for business.”
A man beside Duncan snorted. Others muttered rude remarks and left.
Caroline waylaid the girl. “Sally, is he going to be all right?”
She nodded. “Mr. Copeland suffers from a stomach ulcer. He doesn’t follow Doc’s instructions, so he has flare-ups from time to time. I think the cook quitting this morning sent him over the edge. I heard them yelling at each other.” Clapping her hand over her mouth, she shook her head. “I shouldn’t have said anything. He values his privacy.”
“Who’s doing the cooking?” Duncan asked.
Sally’s expression turned sheepish. “I am. The other girl, Lynette, is going to wait tables.”
He pulled Caroline aside. “Seems to me that Alexander Copeland could use a friend.”
“What do you propose we do?”
“Between the two of us, surely we can think of something.”
She was silent a moment. “I have an idea, but I doubt he’ll thank us for it.”
Chapter Twenty
“He’s going to blow his top when he finds out.” Chewing on her fingernails, Sally studied Caroline’s hand-drawn sign.
Sally Hatcher had started working at the café about a year ago. Caroline didn’t know her well—the eighteen-year-old spent time with girls her own age—but she seemed like an earnest, hardworking sort. She certainly had a healthy dose of respect for her employer.
Duncan stood near one of a dozen square tables, his hands propped on his waist and his eyes soft with compassion. “The worst he can do is order us out of his establishment. Besides, he may surprise you.”
“But closing the café for a day without his permission?”
Caroline laid the pen aside and turned, the sign in her hands. “It is necessary to close it in order to find a new cook.”
Ben straightened from the fireplace mantel and, coming alongside Sally, slung an arm around her shoulders. “Doc’s keeping him for at least twenty-four hours. This flare-up’s a doozy. You have time to sort things here before he returns.”
Predictably, Sally flushed at the handsome deputy’s nearness. Sometimes Caroline wondered if he realized the potency of his effect on females.
With a wink, he left her side. “If you’ll give me that sign, I’m going to stir up interest.”
She gave it to him, and he headed for the door.
“This should be interesting,” Duncan murmured. “Let’s go watch the show, shall we?”
The threesome followed Ben onto the boardwalk, where he waved the sign above his head.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please gather around,” he called. “I have exciting news.”
Across the street, beneath the mercantile’s overhang, a group of elderly men left their bench. An adolescent lad poked his head inside the mercantile and relayed Ben’s message. People on both sides of the street stopped what they were doing and wandered over.
“As you all have no doubt heard by now,” Ben began, “Alexander Copeland has fallen ill. What you may not know is that his cook has quit.”
Cheers and whistles erupted. Duncan shot Caroline a surprised glance, his brows lifting.
“Enough of that,” Ben ordered. “The café is closed for general business today because we’re going to be interviewing potential cooks. So spread the word that anyone interested in the job should stop by today with a sample of their cooking. We’ll be here until eight o’clock this evening. Thank you.”
“Why would anyone want to work for a man like Copeland?” a wizened farmer named John Dunham griped, spewing a stream of tobacco onto the dirt.
“Agreed,” another man said, nodding vigorously. “He acts like he’s too good to socialize with any of us.”
Sally straightened her shoulders. “Mr. Copeland is a decent man. He has his quirks, but he’s got a good heart.”
“He’s been part of our community for a while now,” Ben said. “So he keeps to himself. He clearly has his reasons. Has any one of you attempted to befriend him?”
No one answered. They’d expected Alexander to woo them into his restaurant. When he’d ignored them, they’d returned the favor.
Pulling Duncan aside, she murmured, “I’m as guilty as the rest. I hope our plan doesn’t alienate him further.”
He patted her hand. “I’ll go and talk to him in the morning. Explain what we’re doing. Hopefully he’ll understand our intentions are good.”
“You’re new in town. Why are you intent on helping him?”
“Remember the man I told you about? My employee that died?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Alexander puts me in mind of him. I didnae help Edwin. My conscience won’t let me stand by a second time and watch someone suffer.”
“You’re a good man, Duncan McKenna.”
Pleasure warming the blue depths of his gaze, he bent and kissed her cheek. “Knowing you think so means the world to me.”
Ben was suddenly there, grinning like a fool. “Kissing on the street in broad daylight? No time for that. We’ve got work to do.”
Caroline rolled her eyes. She liked the deputy well enough, but sometimes she imagined what it would be like for som
eone to turn the tables on him. For once, she’d like to see him lovesick over a girl who refused to give him the time of day.
The four of them returned inside. Since their lunch had been thwarted, they sat down to a decent, if bland, meal of vegetable soup and day-old corn bread. Sally clearly wasn’t the replacement they sought.
Their first applicant arrived an hour after Ben’s announcement. More arrived throughout the day, bringing everything from venison chili to shepherd’s pie to fried chicken livers. Caroline lost count of how many cobblers and cakes she sampled. By the cutoff time that evening, her stomach had had enough. After locking the door, Ben led the group in a discussion. The decision was unanimous—Ellie Jameson was by far the standout candidate. Vivacious and cheerful, the young woman had brought in stuffed quail with a side of greens in vinegar dressing, along with a blackberry cobbler that had just the right amount of sweetness. Ellie had declared that, in her mind, cooking wasn’t a chore. Who better to return the Plum to its former glory than a talented young woman with a passion for cooking?
Returning to the stables, Caroline fed and petted Rain while Duncan tended the other horses.
She walked into the aisle and shut the stall door. “I wonder how Mr. Copeland will take the news that we hired a new cook without his knowledge.”
Duncan exited Chestnut’s stall. “He’ll probably be angry at first. When he sees the people lining up to sample Ellie’s food, he’ll change his mind.”
“That’s assuming he doesn’t leave the sickbed to order her off his property.” Turning to the exit, they walked together into the mild summer evening.
“I dinnae think he’s physically strong enough to do that just yet.” Tilting his head to one side, he said, “Although, you’ve given me an idea. I believe I’ll postpone my visit until after lunch tomorrow. That way, I’ll go in armed with a good report.”
“Do you think people will give her a chance?”
“I’ve learned that in towns the size of Gatlinburg, there’s no such thing as trivial news. A brand-new cook at Plum’s? People will come out of sheer nosiness.”
She stopped when they reached the first paddock. “Are you staying in the barn again tonight?”
Despite her numerous worries, the day had been a good one. It had been nice to focus on someone else’s needs, no matter that Alexander was basically a stranger. More than that, she’d enjoyed spending time with Duncan. She was reluctant to see the day end.
His expression turned somber. “I’d rather stay in the cabin with you, but I cannae leave the horses unattended. Your father’s terse response indicated he was most displeased. Cannae say as I blame him.”
“I understand.”
“You aren’t frightened, are you?”
“No.” How could she explain that she found comfort in his presence? “I haven’t seen more than a glimpse of Theo these past weeks.”
“Good. That means he’s taking my warning seriously.”
“He’d be a fool not to.”
His eyes darkened. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
“I know.”
Her heartbeat quickened. She wished he’d kiss her good-night. He’d kept his distance recently, and she couldn’t figure out why.
“I’ll miss you,” she blurted, instantly regretting it when his expression reflected misgivings.
“Sweet dreams, Caroline. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He disappeared into the stables. Apparently he didn’t share her feelings. It was as if their relationship’s forward momentum had come to a screeching halt. Confused and disheartened, she went home. She’d been lonely most of her life, but never had she felt as alone as she did now.
* * *
Caroline’s earnest confession remained with him throughout the long night and into the next day. He’d been about to say that he’d miss her, too—of course he would—when the issue of her continued secrecy pushed to the forefront of his mind. Duncan knew she was confused by his withdrawal. What she couldn’t or wouldn’t accept was that he was waiting for her to share her private pain. He was waiting for her to trust him. He refused to think what would happen if she never did.
At least this day had brought about something positive. Since choosing Ellie Jameson for the job last evening, Ben had spread the word about her kitchen skills. A line had formed outside the café a full hour before opening time. With only Sally and Lynette there to wait tables, he, Caroline and Ben had been forced to assist in order to get the food out in a timely manner. The compliments had flowed like honey. People loved Ellie’s food.
Now to convince Alexander to swallow his pride and keep her.
“Mr. McKenna.” Doc Owens bade him enter. His office occupied the bottom floor of a white clapboard house trimmed in sky blue. “Are you here seeking medical care?”
“I’m actually here to pay your patient a visit.”
“Ah. Mr. Copeland.” His brows descended. “I’m afraid he’s not in the best frame of mind. As long as you’re not expecting a warm welcome, you’re free to go in.”
“I’m hoping to cheer him up with a bit of news.”
Duncan followed him past a neat, sparsely decorated parlor and a set of narrow stairs leading to the second floor. He peeked in an empty examination room while Doc rapped on the bedroom door and turned the knob.
“Mr. Copeland, you have a visitor.”
When there was no response, the older man glanced at Duncan and shrugged. He entered first, his broad frame blocking Duncan’s view.
“Duncan McKenna is here to see you,” he said.
“Who?”
The doctor moved aside, allowing Duncan to walk to the bed. Propped up by a mound of pillows, a quilt with green, blue and white swirls pulled up to his chest, Alexander stared at him with dawning recognition. His coloring had improved, and he no longer looked to be in dire physical distress.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Copeland,” he offered. “I’m glad to see you’re improving.”
“Why would you care?” His tone wasn’t mean-spirited, merely curious. Duncan had no problem with bluntness.
Doc edged toward the hallway. “I’ll leave you two to converse.” He pointed at Duncan. “Not too long, okay?”
“Yes, sir.” Without waiting for permission, he sat on the hard-backed chair beside the bed and balanced his hat on his knee. “I have news about the café.”
Interest flickered in his distrustful gaze. “What sort of news?”
“When we learned you no longer employed a cook, Deputy Ben MacGregor organized a town-wide search for a replacement.”
Alexander’s jaw sagged.
Duncan continued, “It was like a tryout for a stage play, you might say, except in this case folks were trying out for a job. The four of us—Ben, Sally, Caroline and I—taste-tested meals until late last night. There was one standout. Her name is Ellie Jameson. She’s a fantastic cook. Just wait until you taste her stuffed quail.” His mouth watered just thinking about the succulent meat and vinegary greens she’d served.
The café owner’s hands fisting in the quilt until his knuckles went white, he said through clenched teeth, “You mean to tell me that you hired this Ellie person? Without my approval?”
“I understand you’re surprised.”
“Surprised doesn’t begin to explain what I’m feeling right now.” Shoving the quilt to the side, he set his feet on the floorboards and searched in vain for his shoes.
“Does it help to know it was a neighborly gesture of friendship?”
“I don’t have friends in this town, Mr. McKenna.” His gaze was at once frosty and fire-licked. “Nor do I want any. Now where are my shoes? Doc!”
“Mr. Copeland, Ellie prepared the noon meal today. Every single table was filled. Patrons crowded the boardwalk, waiting for up to half
an hour for a chance to sample her food.”
“Mere curiosity,” he dismissed with a glare. “Doesn’t mean they’ll come back.”
“I dinnae think that’s the case. Everyone I spoke to was full of compliments.”
Alexander shook his head, as if reluctant to accept that his business could turn around. Or perhaps his pride prevented him from accepting Ellie’s help since he wasn’t involved in her hiring.
“Ben MacGregor had no right to interfere, and neither did Caroline. You’re new here. They, on the other hand, are aware that I don’t take kindly to meddlers. And Sally should’ve learned by now to keep her mouth shut.”
Alexander slowly gained his feet. Gauging by the white lines carved into his cheeks, the effort cost him.
“What are you going to do?” Duncan asked quietly.
“The first thing I’m going to do is get dressed.” Putting one foot in front of the other, Alexander made his way to the wardrobe in the corner. “Then I’m going to the café and inform this Ellie woman that she’ll have to look for employment elsewhere.”
Duncan stood. “Do you really care so little about the success of your business? Or is your pride blinding you to the fact you need her?”
Wincing, Alexander shrugged a long-sleeved shirt on over his undershirt. “I admit I can’t think of a single thing that I care about in this world, Mr. McKenna.”
Stunned speechless, Duncan wondered what tragedy could’ve befallen the man to evoke such a despondent outlook. After long moments, he found his wits.
“It’s a pride problem then,” he surmised. “You can’t overcome the fact that you weren’t in charge of hiring her.”
Ignoring him, Alexander pulled a pair of trousers from a hanger. “If you don’t mind, I’d like some privacy.”
“Certainly.”
Unhappy with the outcome of their conversation, Duncan strode to the door.
“Mr. McKenna?”
“Aye?”
“I do appreciate you taking the time to apprise me of the situation.”
