Bachelor Protector

by Julianna Morris

  “Hey.” Sarah tossed a wadded-up napkin at him. “Your face went blank.”

  “Just thinking.”

  “What’s going on behind that mask?”

  Mask?

  Tyler had never thought of it that way. “I was thinking about my brother,” he admitted. “He refuses to take medication to help the post-traumatic stress.”

  “I understand Nathan hopes to return to active duty. Maybe he’s worried how taking meds will look on his record.”

  Tyler frowned. He should have thought of that.

  Sarah poked at the contents of her bowl; she’d eaten the toppings, leaving most of her potato behind. She jumped to her feet. “I’m going back for a refill. Want some more?”

  He went with her and saw there was plenty left, despite the large turnout. “How often do you have events like this?” he asked curiously.

  “Once a month, though sometimes it’s pie day or finger food. There’s always something going on.”

  The servers had left their posts, presumably to eat, so Tyler took another baked potato and loaded it with chili and cheese, while Sarah added a fresh assortment of veggies to her bowl.

  Nathan was in a corner, still flirting with the blonde he’d met at the serving table, and their mother was deep in discussion with a group of women on the opposite side of the room. They both seemed quite happy without him, so Tyler stayed with Sarah as she joined her father, standing nearby with several other men.

  “Did you get enough, Dad?”

  Kurt patted his stomach. “I’m doing okay. Good afternoon, Tyler,” he said, nodding.

  “Hello, Mr. Fullerton.”

  “Please, it’s Kurt.” He smiled, but Tyler didn’t think the older man cared for him. Aside from what Sarah may have said, it couldn’t have helped that his initial reaction to Kurt had been distrustful. Tyler still wondered if the relationship with his mother went beyond friendship, but he no longer had misgivings about the other man.

  Kurt was, in his own way, helping Nathan more than any doctor.

  * * *

  BELATEDLY, SARAH REALIZED she should make introductions.

  “Everyone, this is Tyler Prentiss. Tyler, you know my father, but this is Reverend George Fullerton, my grandfather. Reverend Daniel Fullerton, one of my uncles. He’s the youth pastor here. And this is Milt Fullerton, one of my great-uncles.”

  A general chorus of greetings followed, and Grandpa George struck up a conversation with Tyler.

  Sarah focused on her food. Tyler attending church and the baked potato feed had startled her. She suspected he didn’t socialize that much, so he must have come for his mom and brother’s sake.

  “Dad, I ran by your house before church and put an apricot cobbler in the fridge,” she told him between bites. “I was going to bring it to dinner tonight, but thought you might like to have it instead. Just don’t eat the entire pan in one sitting.”

  “Thanks, darling.” Kurt’s eyes gleamed. She didn’t sell old-style cobbler at the bakery, but he loved it.

  “I like cobbler, too,” Uncle Daniel complained.

  “Maybe I could give Dad the lasagna instead.”

  Uncle Daniel shook his head. “On second thought, I’m sure my brother deserves a treat.”

  Sarah chuckled. He shared cooking duties with Aunt Emma, but they no longer made lasagna...not since he’d forgotten a batch was in the oven and had gone to play a spur-of-the-moment softball game with the youth group. The volunteer fire department called it the Great Lasagna Inferno and never failed to bring it up at annual fund-raising events.

  Uncle Daniel checked the clock on the wall. “I need to make sure the youth group is helping with cleanup. I’ll see you later, Sarah.”

  A few minutes later, Tyler said Nathan looked tired and that they should leave. Once he and his family were gone, Great-Uncle Milt frowned. “So that’s Tyler Prentiss. He looks like a prizefighter with those bruises. I wonder what the story is behind them.”

  “It’s nothing to worry about,” Sarah assured him hastily. “His brother is an army captain who was injured in a bomb blast and has PTSD nightmares. There was a mix-up about whether Rosemary got too close when Nathan was asleep. Tyler jumped between them and got hit.”

  “What about the incident at the shop?”

  “Incident?” Kurt asked.

  “I told you about it, Dad,” Sarah said lightly. “Tyler was concerned when he learned Rosemary was working for me. He thought she might have taken on too much. That’s all.”

  * * *

  KURT RECALLED ROSEMARY saying that Tyler had wanted her to quit her job, but he hadn’t imagined anything more dramatic than a young man having problems seeing his mother in a new light.

  For himself, he’d grown up with working parents and his childhood couldn’t have been better. Margaret Fullerton had been elected mayor of Glimmer Creek more times than anyone could remember. At seventy-five, she’d finally insisted on retiring. His dad was still senior pastor at the church, but contemplating retirement, as well.

  Kurt knew some of his attitudes might be outdated, but not about women in the workplace. Well, initially it had been strange to serve in the military with the opposite sex, but he’d learned to respect them as fellow soldiers, with just as much courage and dedication as any man. And having them around had reminded him of what he was fighting for back home.

  “Tyler was under a huge amount of stress when we met the first time,” Sarah explained. “He’s apologized.”

  “If you say so,” Uncle Milt said. “And I suppose the business in the Chicago area doesn’t mean anything here in Glimmer Creek. I just don’t like having anything come up on a background check.”

  “Stop worrying. I’ll see you all later, I’m going to help with cleanup.” She blew kisses at them and hurried away.

  Kurt looked at his uncle. “Chicago?”

  Uncle Milt’s frown deepened. “A building complex in Illinois collapsed a few weeks ago while under construction. Tyler Prentiss worked on the initial design, then another architect took over before the work started. The building owner is trying to implicate Prentiss, though nothing I’ve read suggests there’s much basis for it. Still, I’m reluctant to see Sarah accepting his architectural advice until everything is resolved.”

  Kurt made a face. “I agree, though you know how stubborn she is. I wonder why Rosemary hasn’t mentioned the incident. She’s talked about Nathan’s difficulties, but nothing about Tyler.”

  “Nathan is a soldier and was injured through no error of his own. Mrs. Prentiss can’t be a hundred percent certain about her other son. She might not want to discuss the situation for that reason.”

  Perhaps, but Kurt wanted to speak with his daughter. He wasn’t comfortable about the late-night calls she’d been receiving, either, even if they had stopped.

  “Is something else wrong?” asked Uncle Milt.

  “No, no. Sarah says I worry too much.”

  Uncle Milt laughed. “We never stop worrying about our kids. You didn’t believe me when I told you that all those years ago, but you’ve learned it now. The trick is learning to let go.”

  Kurt remembered when Uncle Milt had told him that...the day he’d enlisted and seen his mother with red eyes. She hadn’t tried to prevent him and had been proud that he wanted to serve, but she’d worried for his safety.

  “You were right,” he admitted. “Thanks for the info, Uncle Milt. I need to check on something. See you soon.”

  He went straight to the kitchen to ask Sarah why she hadn’t told him more about Tyler Prentiss.

  * * *

  “WE NEED TO TALK, sweetheart.”

  Sarah looked up and saw her father wearing his outraged protective expression.

  “Okay, just a minute.” She finished washing the insert to her
slow cooker and dried her hands. “Yes?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that Tyler Prentiss was in trouble in Illinois?” he asked in a low voice.

  Sarah shot a quick look around the kitchen. A number of the women and kids from the youth group were still cleaning up, so she reassembled her cooker and held it out. “Carry this to the car for me and then we’ll talk.”

  She grabbed another container filled with baking pans and platters and led the way to the parking lot. Once everything was stowed in her trunk, she turned and gave her father a stern look.

  “Listen to me, Dad, Tyler isn’t in trouble. There’s just an investigation into who might be responsible for a building that collapsed.”

  “That sounds like trouble to me. If they decide he was negligent, he might go to jail.”

  The thought gave Sarah a queer sensation in her midriff, even though she believed Tyler couldn’t be responsible.

  While she rarely looked up people online, she’d read several articles about the building collapse. A special commission was being convened to investigate and a flurry of lawsuits had been filed, but none were specifically against Tyler except the one filed by the owner, Milo Corbin. Tyler was considered a hero by the press and rescue crews, and the injured workers had lauded him for helping to save their lives. The only sour note seemed to be Corbin and the second architect, who were trying to shift blame.

  Rather fishy, in her opinion.

  Sarah shook herself. “They’re probably including Tyler’s name in the investigation as a matter of form. The second architect made changes to the design that Tyler had advised weren’t safe. I don’t see how he could be responsible—if I change a recipe and it doesn’t come out, that’s my fault.”

  Kurt didn’t look convinced. “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”

  “That isn’t fair, Dad. Why are you so prejudiced against him? Tyler was uptight about Rosemary working for me when he first arrived, but shouldn’t you approve of him staying to help Nathan?”

  “I suppose. But I’m going to have another architect review any advice or blueprints Prentiss gives you.”

  Sarah counted to ten. While she loved her father and wanted him to be happy, she also wanted him to respect her choices. A lot of the time he just took action without discussing it with her or finding out if she actually needed something done.

  What about his life?

  He hadn’t even taken a vacation since she’d opened the bakery, because he wanted to “be here” in case she needed him.

  “Dad, don’t worry about it.”

  “An army buddy’s son is an architect in San Jose. I’ll have him take a look at your building.”

  “Listen to me. I’ll handle whatever needs to be done. By the way, Rosemary and Nathan don’t know about what happened in Illinois,” Sarah said, partly as a distraction and partly to warn him.

  “He should have told them.”

  “Maybe, but he asked me not to tell his mother. It’s uncomfortable, but there are complications to telling Rosemary, too. He’s concerned that it would be too stressful.”

  Her father scowled. “Rosemary mentioned that Tyler tries to make decisions for her.”

  “You do same thing with me,” Sarah told him carefully. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but she also needed him to understand.

  “No, I don’t.” Yet his expression churned. “Uh, well, maybe. Once in a while. But I wasn’t there when you were a little girl and I want to make up for it.”

  “We’ve talked about this a hundred times. There’s nothing to make up for. I had a great childhood. And when I visited you in Japan and other places, I got to see parts of the world I might never have seen otherwise.”

  “What’s wrong with me doing things for my daughter?”

  “Nothing, but I think you still see me as that frightened little kid whose mother abandoned her. I’m not. I’m grown up and happy and don’t need my hand held all the time.”

  “That isn’t what I’m doing.” He stuck his chin out and Sarah knew he hadn’t changed his mind.

  She kissed his cheek. “Just think about it. You’re so busy trying to take of me, you aren’t taking care of yourself.”

  And you’re driving me nuts.

  The silent admonition made her feel lousy, but they both needed their lives back.

  * * *

  SARAH ARRIVED AT the bakery later than usual on Tuesday morning and was dismayed to find the electric catering vehicles weren’t plugged in. She thought she remembered taking care of it the night before as usual, but couldn’t be positive.

  Hurriedly, she connected the plugs to the charging stations and rushed inside.

  “Did you hear anything odd outside last night?” she asked Regina, who’d returned the day before.

  The night supervisor looked up from the dough she was making into cinnamon rolls. “Odd in what way?”

  “I just found the catering vehicles unplugged. We probably won’t have enough power to make all the deliveries—we used them a lot yesterday.”

  Regina shook her head. “Everything was quiet and the swing crew didn’t say anything. I’ll contact Poppy Gold and ask them to loan us carts to help. It’ll be a pain, but better than being late with breakfast.”

  “I’ll take over here while you make the call.”

  Sarah rapidly began filling pans with rolls, trying to put the problem with the catering vehicles out of her mind. The Poppy Gold breakfast included a large roll for each guest, which was a heck of a lot of cinnamon rolls every day. And that didn’t count the ones they sold in the shop. Sometimes when she was trying to sleep, cinnamon rolls marched across her eyes in an unending succession.

  It was a rough morning with breakfast barely getting delivered on time. They were only able to make a single trip with the regular catering vehicles and had to rely on Poppy Gold for the rest. Poppy Gold employees then also had to pick up food supplies for the two business conferences starting that morning, which couldn’t have helped their own schedule.

  Sarah felt terrible about it and sent a text to her cousin explaining that she’d pay for the time and trouble. Tessa swiftly sent a text back, refusing, but Sarah planned to ignore that.

  Then her father came by before leaving on his weekly shopping trip to Stockton and learned about the problem. He had a fit, calling it vandalism and saying she had to make a report to the police department.

  “No. I can’t be positive I plugged the vehicles in last night,” she told him. “I could have forgotten.”

  “Not likely.”

  “It’s still a possibility.”

  Looking aggravated, he finally left, muttering about stubborn daughters taking too much after their fathers.

  Sarah didn’t think the day could get worse, but at 2:00 p.m., Aurelia walked into the kitchen with Tomoko Gates, who worked at City Hall.

  Sarah waved at her. “Hey, Tomoko. What can I do for you?”

  Tomoko looked miserable. “I have to do a surprise check as the health inspector,” she explained. “There was a call...”

  A call?

  Sarah fastened a smile on her face as she gave Tomoko access to every corner of the shop. Yet inside she was roiling. Strange coincidences were piling up faster than she could dismiss them.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “HELLO.”

  “Kurt, it’s me,” Rosemary said into the phone, trying to keep her voice down so Sarah and the inspector wouldn’t overhear. “Something else has happened.”

  He cursed. “What?”

  “Somebody called in a health department complaint about the bakery. It was anonymous, like the one about the building. The inspector is still here, checking everything.”

  “Hellfire. Sarah didn’t want to call the police this morning, either. This can’t go
on, I’ll have to call them myself.”

  A frisson of warning went through Rosemary and she straightened. “I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

  There was a long silence on the other end of the line. “Did Sarah say something to you?”

  “No. What do you mean?”

  “It’s only that she...never mind. I just got back from Stockton. I’ll come over and talk to her. Be there in a few minutes.”

  Rosemary put the phone down, her nerves jumping. Her mother’s instincts had told her to let Kurt know about the problem; now she wondered if she should have. Sarah was a dear, but she was also a successful businesswoman and deserved respect.

  A wave of the old helplessness swept through Rosemary and it scared her. She didn’t want to be that woman again, the one who’d let someone else decide everything...the one with so many regrets.

  She pushed back from the desk and went into the main kitchen. Through the window in the rear door, she saw Sarah on the loading dock, talking to the health inspector. The two women were shaking hands as Kurt drove in.

  Wondering if she might get fired for being an interfering busybody, Rosemary went outside, as well.

  “Thanks, Tomoko,” Sarah was saying. “I’ll put the new certificate in front with the others.”

  “Good. I’m sorry about the troubles you’re having.”

  With a general smile that included Kurt and Rosemary, the inspector left.

  “Sweetheart, what’s going on?” Kurt asked urgently.

  “A health inspection.”

  “You were certified last month.”

  “And I just got certified again.”

  Rosemary drew a shaky breath. She could tell Kurt was trying to protect her confidence, but she had to confess. “I’m sorry, Sarah, I called your father and told him about the health inspector. I realize now it was a mistake.”

  Kurt gave her an incredulous look. “No, it wasn’t.”