Montana Sky: Nolan's Vow (Kindle Worlds) (Grooms with Honor Book 0)

by Linda K. Hubalek

  “What do you know about Kiowa Jones?”

  “Oh, now you might get some competition there.”

  “Is that why your ma invited him to dinner?”

  “Nah. Da, Isaac, and Ki were visiting together, so of course Ma invited him to eat with us.”

  “Where’s he from?”

  “Never has told his story. Came into town when John Anderson had the blacksmith shop for sale. He and Karin decided to move their family home to Illinois. I did hear Ki paid John in cash.”

  “I wonder where he got that amount of money.”

  “Don’t know, but I’m sure he had to live on his own money for a time. It took people a while to start bringing work to him, but they didn’t have any choice without another blacksmith around this area.”

  “Huh. Maybe he’s had another profession like John Anderson did.” The former blacksmith was actually an ordained Lutheran minister who had lost his faith trying to help Civil War soldiers. Only Mack’s parents knew this for many years, until John’s fiancée Karin Johnson found him in Clear Creek ten years later.

  “Maybe you can talk to Ki and found out his story since you’re new in town, at least to him.”

  Nolan might have to do that...out of curiosity, of course. But then again, Nolan had promised Holly new grave markers for her family. Could Jones fashion iron crosses in time for Christmas? It was worth asking about.

  “Nolan?” They turned when they heard Holly’s voice at the front door.

  “Wait until I come to you with a light,” Nolan called back while picking up a lamp. Even though the café was a mess, he was glad Holly was here. She was turning out to be his “light” to happiness.

  “Good morning, Holly,” Mack greeted when Nolan brought her into the kitchen. “How’d you sneak past Ma?”

  “Well, I could say as quietly as I could, but then I found this basket and note on top of my cape on the chair by the back door.”

  She put the basket on the table and handed Nolan the note to read.

  “Take this basket with you when you sneak...she actually wrote ‘sneak’...out this morning. Here are clean rags and soap, paper and pencil to make lists and cinnamon rolls for whoever shows up, for breakfast. I’ll take rolls over to the Clancy’s and try to stall them as long as I can for you. God bless your morning’s work...and tell Mack good morning since I’m sure he’s already there.”

  Nolan and Mack burst out laughing while Holly grinned. She’d already read the note.

  “Okay workers; let’s have breakfast and start cleaning and making lists of what we need to do to open again. Our day has officially been blessed by Ma Reagan.”

  “We’re here, anybody home?”

  Nolan tensed as he heard Kaitlyn call out her warning. But then things should go okay with his grandparents, since there were extra people in the building with them.

  Millie Wilerson, the marshal’s wife, who used to bake pies for the café about a dozen years ago, and her sister, Darcie Shepard, the saddle maker’s wife, had arrived with buckets and mops right after their children left for school.

  Now, four hours after first opening the café door, the place looked and smelled a little better. The café walls and furniture still needed fresh coats of paint, curtains to replace the faded ones...and a half dozen mouse traps, but overall Nolan felt better than he had first thing this morning.

  “Nolan!” Mack whispered to get his attention. “Open the back door so I can get this wheelbarrow of old stuff outside before your grandfather sees it!”

  Nolan did and was surprised when Millie and Darcie grabbed their coats and followed Mack out the back door.

  “Uh, wait...”

  “We’ll let you and Kaitlyn handle your grandfather. We’ll be back later,” Millie said while patting his cheek, heaven forbid, treating him like when he was a kid.

  Nolan stepping in the dining room, seeing Holly frozen on a ladder by the window, still holding a curtain she’d just taken down.

  “Well, Dan and Edna, look what all Nolan and Holly have done already this morning. The café will be open again before you know it.”

  Nolan waited for his grandfather to blow his top when he looked around the room, but his shoulders sagged instead.

  “Oh, Dan. The place looks so much better! Once it’s painted and polished up, it will be as good as new!” his grandmother exclaimed before smiling up at his grandfather.

  Nolan realized his grandfather was staring at Holly up on the ladder, so Nolan quickly went over to help her down to the floor.

  “Instead of washing those curtains, let’s make some new ones. I might go with a different color this time, Dan. And we need oil table clothes, too. I wonder if I could order them in a red and white check from Taylor’s mercantile.”

  “Hmm. I suppose that would work. Order an extra table cloth to put in my kitchen, too.”

  Nolan caught Kaitlyn’s alarmed stare as his grandfather limped through the door to the kitchen.

  Oh, oh. Did his grandparents think they were going to start running the café again? That wasn’t Nolan’s plan. Of course, he knew they would visit but...he didn’t want Gramps to think he’d be in charge of the place again.

  “Who cleaned out the pantry?! There was nothing wrong with...where’s the sack of flour? It was almost full!”

  “Here’s your first task at managing the café, Nolan, managing your grandfather. Please be patient with him. I already told him to be patient with you.”

  Kaitlyn handed him a small basket. “They wouldn’t eat these rolls before they came over here. I smell you’ve made coffee, so I suggest you all sit down, and have coffee and rolls before your first talk with your grandfather. And I suggest you say a prayer first. You’re going to need it.”

  With that, Kaitlyn opened the front door and left. Holly looked like she was ready to follow Kaitlyn, even though her cape was hanging in the kitchen by the back door.

  “Sorry,” Nolan laid his hand on Holly’s forearm. “You’re working until the end of the day, so you aren’t leaving me alone with them.”

  Nolan hated Holly looked nervous about spending time with his grandfather, but she was paid to handle this job, and he didn’t want to run the café without her, to be truthful to himself.

  Nolan held out his hand to Holly and waited for her to grasp it. “Come on, partner, we have a café to open.”

  Nolan’s grandparents were seated at the kitchen table when Nolan led Holly into the room. There was just a touch of hesitancy when he pulled out a chair for Holly to sit down, but she did.

  “How are Kaitlyn’s rolls?” Nolan asked to start the conversation around the table while he poured cups of coffee for him and Holly.

  “Satisfactory, but not as good as your grandmother’s cinnamon rolls,” his grandfather said after swallowing his mouthful.

  “Ah, Holly’s a very good baker. We had a biscuit contest at the Montana—where she worked, and she won, hands down.”

  “How many bakers was she competing against?” Nolan’s grandfather asked.

  “Uh, just me.”

  “How’d she beat you? What recipe did you use?” Oops, Nolan shouldn’t have brought this up, watching Holly’s shoulders raise as if she was cringing.

  No use lying now. “Your recipe, Grandma. Everyone in the ‘café that evening voted and it was three to one in favor of Holly’s recipe.

  “The local’s voted for her instead of you,” his grandfather accused him.

  “Nope. The ‘café fed a train load of stranded passengers, so they didn’t know who baked what biscuits.”

  Nolan took a deep breath to draw this conversation into the next.

  “Holly’s baking skills are why I asked her to travel to Kansas to work with me. Her pies rival Millie Wilerson’s, I kid you not.”

  “Millie’s pies and cakes are...legendary. That’s what brought business into our ‘café. It wasn’t Dan’s cooking.” Nolan watched his grandparents as they looked at each other with eyebrows raised. There mus
t be a type of communication that forms when you’ve been married a long time, since the Reagan’s did this, too.

  “So, let’s talk about the ‘café. I always promised I’d come home to run the ‘café when you retired.”

  “I haven’t retired yet! Just...not in the ‘café everyday anymore.”

  “I’d like to take over the ‘café and run it, Gramps, with Holly’s help. I’d like to buy the ‘café building from the two of you, giving you a monthly payment, based on an agreement drawn up by Lyle Elison.”

  “I don’t want to sell it. I might feel better next week and want to go back to work.” Nolan felt sorry for his grandfather, knowing he was upset because of his failing health, not because Nolan wanted to “take away” the ‘café from him.

  “You’re delusional, Dan. Neither one of us can stand long enough to fix a meal at home anymore, let alone a restaurant full of customers.” Did it help or hinder that his grandmother was arguing his cause?

  “And I’m not sure if your ‘help’ should be working in the dining room.”

  Nolan’s temper rose thinking of what his grandfather was insinuating about Holly.

  “Why?” If his grandfather said anything bad about Holly...he’d rethink reopening the ‘café, at least in his grandfather’s building.

  “If she’s busy baking, how is she going to wait on customers, too?”

  Nolan heard Holly—and his grandma—release their breaths, thinking Gramps was about to say something rude about Holly.

  His grandfather slapped his hand on the table, luckily not raising dust. “I’ll make a deal with you. Miss Brandt, you bake us biscuits, two kinds of pie, and two kinds of cake or another type of dessert you’d feed a crowd. Nolan, you need to make three days’ worth of meals for us to eat here, or at home, if the weather is bad. And it has to be different food, not just the same thing all the time. People get tired of the same menu.

  “If all the food is good, I’ll talk to Elison about writing up an agreement so you can buy the building. The rent from the apartment will help bring in income.”

  “I accept the challenge. Holly, are you up to it?” For the first time since Nolan’s grandparents arrived in the ‘café, Nolan noticed a twinkle in her eyes and a slight smile on her face.

  Was she thinking about Fred’s recipe book as he was? It was full of recipes different from what his grandfather had made.

  “Yes, I’d like for you to taste my baked goods,” Holly said with a sweet smile. Right now Nolan would like to share a sweet kiss with her to celebrate.

  He knew his grandfather would still be in the kitchen, at least for a while, when the weather permitted him to walk over here. When he knew “his” ‘café was open and thriving again, he’d be content to occasionally come over for the coffee hour instead of stewing that Nolan wasn’t doing things the right way.

  “Well, Holly and I will decide what to make, buy groceries, and plan to start your special meals tomorrow.”

  “Why not for noon today?” His grandfather asked, looking almost upset.

  “I’m going to let the stove grow cold and give it, the pipes, and the chimney, a good cleaning so we don’t burn the building down before I buy it.”

  “Holly can bake in our oven at home then. I haven’t had a good juicy cherry pie like Millie used to make, in ages.”

  Everyone burst out laughing at Gramps remark. Everything would work out all right after all. Nolan would get to run the café—most of the time—the way he wanted it, and he and Holly would be able to help his grandparents.

  Thank goodness for that silly biscuit contest they had back in Sweetwater Springs, and Holly’s baking talents.

  Nolan slid his hand under the table to find Holly’s and give it a squeeze. He was pleased she squeezed back, before pulling away and placing both hands on the table, probably so his grandparents didn’t see what they were doing.

  He liked seeing the four of them around the table together. Nolan feverishly hoped his grandparent’s health would permit the elders to stay with them for a few more years.

  Yes, he was glad he was home, and very glad he convinced Holly to join him.

  Chapter 14

  The next days sped by as Holly and Nolan worked together to set up the kitchen, buy supplies, and cook meals for his grandparents.

  Nolan asked Holly to set up the kitchen like Myrtle’s because it was more efficient than Dan’s arrangement. The first time Dan walked in the kitchen and realized she’d rearranged his “things” caused a confrontation, even after Nolan showing him how handy the changes were. More than once she’d look for something and found it elsewhere because Dan had moved it.

  Good thing she was a good baker. That was her saving grace when dealing with the man. She soon learned a sweet dessert made the man melt like butter on her hot biscuits, although he’d still be gruff to her or ignore her at times.

  Cooking meals for Dan and Edna to taste at the restaurant turned into cooking meals for them at their house. It was too much work for them to dress early in the morning, and it really was too cold for them to walk over to the café.

  Dan and Edna seemed to be in better health after just a week’s worth of good food, and probably attention. They didn’t have to worry about themselves anymore.

  So while Nolan cooked meals at his grandparent’s home, Holly learned the “tricks” of the old temperamental cook stove in the café. There wasn’t a variety of wood to burn in the stove here as there was in Sweetwater Springs, so Holly had to learn how hot and fast the wood burned to adjust the chimney, oven, and bottom dampers.

  Being able to hold your hand in the oven for twenty seconds meant it was the right temperature to bake a cake. But this oven was slow to heat, then the temperature would shoot up so she could only hold her hand six or seven seconds. Then she had to figure out which of the damper combinations were best to lower and hold the heat.

  The first batch of rolls showed a hot spot was on the back left side of the oven, so she had to rotate the pans half way through the baking on her second batch.

  The first cake’s top was burned when Holly put it on the lower shelf. After trial and error, she put the cake pan on the oven floor and set a pan of water on the top shelf. The water absorbed some of the heat so the cake turned out better.

  The timing to get enough rolls and desserts baked for the day’s meals before the oven needed to be used for meats and such, was what was going to be the hardest to coordinate.

  In Myrtle’s café, she just went down the stairs very early in the morning, and baked before they opened the café. Now she’d have to trudge outside in the dark, cold and possible snow from the parsonage, two blocks to the café, to do her baking, before Nolan took over the stove for breakfast. Too bad the upstairs apartment wasn’t available, but that wasn’t an option.

  She’d try to do some baking during the day for the next day when possible.

  The front door opened and Holly’s shoulders tensed a second out of habit. Besides Nolan coming in and out all day, others walked in the door, some to help with cleaning, and others just curious about when the café would open again for business.

  Holly met the majority of the townspeople at church, but train passengers wandering in looking for a quick bite to eat made her nervous.

  “Nolan? Your first order came in.” She looked through the serving window between the kitchen and café to see Mr. Taylor, from the mercantile, standing inside the door with a large paper-wrapped bundle in his arms.

  “Mr. Taylor,” Holly wiped her hands on her apron while walking into the dining room. “Nolan isn’t here at the moment. What do you have?”

  “The oil cloth for the tables has arrived. Where shall I set it?”

  “On any table is fine. I can’t wait to cover the tables. It will really spruce up the café.”

  “Glad Nolan is opening the café again, and for the business it will give our store. Need any more groceries delivered today?”

  Holly laughed, knowing what he was as
king. “Are you wondering if I’ve ruined another pie in this cantankerous oven, and need more dried apples to try again?”

  “We’re not minding the trial pies you’re bringing over to the mercantile to get rid of. The coffee drinkers around the back stove are waiting with plates and forks now, hoping I’ll bring something back for them.”

  Holly hoped this group of men would show up and pay for coffee and pie once the café was open, so she’d been generous with her samples.

  “You think the men would like molasses cookies today?” Holly asked over her shoulder as she walked back to the kitchen with Mr. Taylor following her.

  “They’ll eat anything that’s free,” Mr. Taylor chuckled as Holly handed him a cloth-covered basket of cookies she had ready to take over to the mercantile.

  “Could you stop at the barbershop and hand out a few cookies there, too? We need to hook the locals on my baked goods.”

  Mr. Taylor took the basket, but dropped his smile. “You may have to work harder to get people to accept you...since you’re an Indian...but I commend your fortitude. Although I’m sure some people won’t say—or believe this—but I’m glad Nolan brought you to Clear Creek. I think you’ll be an asset to our community.”

  Holly put her hand on her chest to slow her heart’s pounding. His words were both prejudiced and complimenting, typical of the reception she’d received so far in town.

  The church congregation couldn’t believe “an Indian” could play a violin, even though she stood in front of the altar, filling their air with sweet music.

  People wouldn’t believe she could be as good a baker as the town favorite, Millie Wilerson...because she was a half-breed.

  Maybe it would be best if she baked for the café before dawn, and hid the rest of the day. Nolan could hire a pretty woman to wait on the customers and not have to worry if people would snub the café because of the half-breed they’d have to talk to.

  “Hey, Taylor! Bringing in merchandise I need to pay for, or stealing baked goods from my prize baker?” Nolan’s jovial question pulled Holly away from Mr. Taylor’s remark. His words were meant to shore her confidence, but hadn’t helped as he’d meant them to do. People just didn’t know how much Holly wanted to be a “person” and not be automatically labeled as an Indian or half-breed.