by Donya Lynne
“You don’t try,” Scott said with a subdued shake of his head. Fucking every woman who remotely flicked his interest then bolting the next morning like he couldn’t get away fast enough was not trying. It was hiding. “You’ve given up, too. You just think you haven’t, which is way worse.”
Chapter 8
Late Saturday afternoon, Lacey stood amid what looked like a culinary war zone in her cabin’s kitchen. She had thought sautéing mushrooms and roasting a chicken would be easier.
What had gotten into her at the bookstore yesterday? At the time, buying Julia Child’s cookbook had seemed like a great idea. Now, with the kitchen in disarray, she wondered what madness had persuaded her to think she could do this.
Okay, so maybe she was being a little dramatic. The stuffed bird was in the oven—finally—and smelled heavenly, but oh gracious! What it had taken to get it there. She’d never trussed a chicken before. Check that off her bucket list.
At least she’d had the common sense to make the salad ahead of time and stick it in the refrigerator. Now, she just needed to wait an hour and twenty minutes and start basting with cream then make the gravy. In the meantime, she could clean up this mess.
As she wiped down the counters an hour later, she noted that she hadn’t heard the heat kick on in a while. Come to think of it, it was a bit chilly in the cabin. She hadn’t noticed in the oven-heated kitchen. But when she checked the thermostat, sure enough, the heat wasn’t working again. And with October upon them, the weather was taking a turn for the colder.
She pulled Scott’s card from her purse and bit her bottom lip. Maybe she should just call the regular maintenance line. Then again, he had told her to call him direct if she had any more problems with the furnace. Who was she to ignore a direct order from the owner?
“This is Scott.”
“Uh, hi. This is Mattie Moon. In cabin thirty-six?” Her words lilted like a question.
“I know who this is. How are you? Is anything wrong?”
“The furnace isn’t working again.”
“Damn. I’ll be right there. You don’t mind if I bring my daughter, do you? I’ve got her this weekend.”
“I’m so sorry. I should have called the main line and—”
“No, no. I’ll handle it. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay with me having to bring Savannah with me.”
“Of course. That’s fine.”
“We’ll be there in ten minutes.”
She finished cleaning the kitchen as she waited then sat down at the table with a cup of tea. At least the oven was keeping this part of the cabin warm.
She had just finished her tea when Scott arrived.
When she opened the door, he lifted his nose and inhaled. “What smells so good in there?” He held a box of tools in one hand, and Savannah’s hand in the other.
“I’m roasting a chicken.” She stepped aside to allow them in. “Hi, Savannah. Good to see you again.”
“Hi.” She waved and trailed after her dad.
“Smells delicious.” Scott set down his tools, took off his gloves, and stuffed them in his pocket.
“You’re welcome to stay. There’s plenty for everyone.”
Scott smiled at her. “Are you sure. I don’t want to impose.”
She laughed. “Believe me, you’re not imposing. I don’t know what made me think I could eat a six-pound chicken by myself.”
Scott looked at Savannah. “You want to stay for dinner, Savvy? Sure smells good.”
She liked his nickname for Savannah. Savvy was better than her childhood nickname. Moon Pie. Thank God no one called her that anymore.
Savannah giggled in that way little girls do when their single daddies are flirting with the idea of asking a woman out.
“I take that as a yes.” Scott cleared his throat and threw Lacey a sheepish grin.
“Good. I’ll set two more places.”
While Scott went to work on the furnace, Lacey set Savannah up with cartoons then returned to the kitchen to prepare for the next phase of war. Hopefully, making the gravy wouldn’t be as hard as the first battle with the stuffing and trussing.
She was bent in front of the open oven, removing the fat from the roasting pan, when Scott entered the kitchen. “I think we’re all fixed.” He stepped forward. “Here, let me give you a hand with that.”
She stood as he knelt and tipped the roasting pan so all the juices flowed to one corner.
“Thanks.” Her gaze met his, and her face flushed with more than just the heat from the oven. She continued spooning the savory juices and fat out of the pan. “What was wrong with the furnace?”
“Just needed to clean the line. You should be fine now.”
She set the bowl of drippings on the counter.
He placed the pan back on the rack and stood as she basted the chicken with cream and closed the oven.
“So…” He gestured toward the stove. “What motivated you to go to all this trouble?”
Sighing, she shrugged and shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t know, but the idea sounded good at the time.” She laughed at herself, and he chuckled. What a warm sound.
“Is this part of your search for what you want to be when you grow up?”
Cute.
“Something like that.”
“Don’t tell me you’re thinking of becoming a chef.”
She held up her hands as if warding off a crowd. “After what I just went through, hell no.” She grabbed a pan out of the cupboard. “Today, I fought a chicken, and the chicken almost won. I don’t think becoming a professional cook is in my future.”
“I see.” He crossed the kitchen to the window and glanced outside. “I always loved the view from this cabin.”
“Me, too. It’s worth suffering a little lack of heat for.”
He grinned then glanced in the direction of the utility room. “Sorry that keeps happening to you, but it should be fixed now.”
“I don’t mind. I mean, it could be worse.” Besides, if her heat kept going out, she could keep calling him over to fix it. That sounded like a fair trade, especially when just his presence was enough to turn up her body heat.
Savannah popped in, all smiles. “Daddy said you used to teach snowboarding. Is that true?”
Scott’s face flushed. “I hope you don’t mind. Savvy loves snowboarding even more than skateboarding. I might have mentioned that you used to be an instructor.”
Lacey’s heart picked up pace, but she forced herself to remain calm. Lots of people taught snowboarding. It didn’t automatically mean they were international sports stars. And, honestly, knowing he’d talked about her to his daughter gave her a thrill. It shouldn’t have, but it did.
She addressed Savannah. “Yes, it’s true.” Now she was lying to nine-year-olds. This just got better and better.
“Cool.” Savannah beamed. “Have you ever met any stars? You know, like Lacey Moon?”
Lacey’s heart nearly flew out of her chest. “Umm…”
“She’s a huge Lacey Moon fan,” Scott said nonchalantly. “Worships her.”
“Is that so? Even after what happened at the Olympics?” She looked from Scott to Savannah and back. “A lot of people jumped off her bandwagon after that.” She hadn’t missed the rumblings through the snowboarding community that she was past her prime and should leave the sport after such a horrific fall.
Part of her agreed. But a part of her still clung to hope.
Scott ruffled Savannah’s hair. “That was tragic. But we’re still Team Lacey, aren’t we, Savvy?”
“Lacey’s tough,” Savannah added with an exuberant nod. “She’ll be back. Just wait. She’ll come back stronger than ever.” The little girl took a step closer. “Your last name’s Moon, too. Are you Lacey’s sister?” Her voice rose hopefully.
If her heart didn’t stop racing, she would pass out. “Um, no. I’m not Lacey’s sister.”
“Savvy…” Scott’s voice took on the placating tone of a teacher about to explain
a math problem. “Lots of people who aren’t related share the same last name.”
Savannah made a pouty face. “Well, she kinda looks like Lacey. Kind of.” She turned toward Lacey. “You’re really pretty, just like Lacey.” She sounded pleased with herself.
“Well, thank you, Savannah. That’s sweet of you to say.” Lacey hoped her voice sounded normal, because inside, she was in a mini-panic.
“So, do you still snowboard?” As is often the case with young kids, Savannah darted off on another tangent, dropping the subject of Lacey Moon like it was yesterday’s news.
“Not since last winter,” she said truthfully.
“Are you good?”
“I’m fair.” Lacey smiled at the little girl before glancing toward Scott. He had moved back to stand next to the window again, an introspective expression on his face as he watched her with his daughter.
“Will you teach me?”
Scott pushed away from the wall. “Mattie’s here on vacation, honey. She didn’t come here to teach snowboarding to precocious little girls like you.” He ruffled her hair.
“Daddy!” She giggled and ducked away from his hand.
“Why don’t you go watch cartoons while Mattie and I finish dinner? Okay, pumpkin? You can talk snowboarding with Mattie later.”
She huffed and made a stink face at him as if he’d just told her to brush her teeth and get ready for bed so the grown-ups could be alone. Then, just as quickly, she broke into giggles and darted back to the living room.
Lacey heard her changing channels a few seconds later.
“Sorry about that,” he said quietly, sliding up beside her at the stove as she turned off the oven and donned her oven mitts.
“Don’t worry about it. She’s just excited.” She opened the oven, pulled out the chicken, and set the pan on the stove.
“Can I help?”
She pointed to the platter on the opposite counter. “Can you grab that?”
A minute later, the stuffed chicken rested on the platter, covered by aluminum foil.
“Now what?” he said.
“Pray I don’t mess this up.”
He laughed as she poured the drippings back in the roasting pan and turned on the burner.
He was a handsome man, appealing in the most primal way. But when he laughed, he became breathtaking.
“You have a nice laugh,” she said, averting her gaze, feeling her cheeks instantly flush with heat.
When he didn’t answer and grew silent instead, she glanced back up at him. The way his eyes burned into hers nearly stole her breath.
“Savvy was right about one thing.” He moved closer, his full lips pressing into a thin line.
“What’s that?” She sounded as dazed as she felt.
“You are pretty. Very pretty.” He took a shaky breath, as if he was nervous. “Even prettier than Lacey Moon.” He waited a few seconds as his face flushed crimson. Then he grinned awkwardly and turned toward the living room. “Savvy, get washed up, honey. It’s almost time to eat.”
In that moment, one thing was certain. She needed to break her furnace again in the very near future.
Chapter 9
The following Friday night, Lacey sat at the counter inside Pappy’s, sucking down the last of her mint chocolate chip shake. Last Saturday’s dinner with Scott and Savannah still sat in the center of her mind, even though she hadn’t seen Scott since. But the evening had been…well…sort of perfect. Conversation had been easy, and Scott had stayed to help her clean up while Savannah watched a movie.
She’d thought he was going to ask her out, but despite several leading looks and what Lacey thought were a few false starts, Scott ended up leaving without making a date.
He was probably just nervous, but she couldn’t blame him. It had been a while since he’d asked a girl out. It was bound to take time to work up the gumption.
She set her empty shake glass on the counter. She was going to start gaining weight if she didn’t get back to a sensible diet. At least she’d been burning some calories by doing her physical therapy exercises twice a day. And she’d started walking every day, too, trying to build her strength back up in her injured leg. She was mostly out of the woods, but healing a broken leg took time, even if the fracture had been a clean break.
The cook called from the back, “Shirl, Kim and Angie just called in sick.”
She glanced toward Shirl, whose face fell as she turned toward the parking lot as if she would see a deluge of water rushing toward them. “This isn’t good, Jake. They’ll be here any minute.”
“I know. Just thought I’d better warn you.” Jake turned back to his grill.
“Who will be here any minute?” Lacey asked.
“The kids.” Shirl started bustling behind the counter. “It’s Friday night, and there’s a football game at the high school.”
Another waitress named Rosie rushed out to bus tables as she said, “That means it’s about to get real in here.”
“Can I help?” She had no idea what made her volunteer, but it sounded like the right thing to do. Maybe all the niceness in Hope Falls was rubbing off on her.
Shirl and Rosie glanced at each other, and then Shirl gave a sharp nod. “Hop on back here. Here’s an apron.”
A blue and white flash of fabric flew at her. She quickly pulled it on and followed Shirl around as she gave her the five-minute tour.
“They’ll want burgers and fries and milkshakes. There’ll be a line out the door, but the rush will come fast and leave just as quickly. But for about an hour or two, it’ll be mayhem. You sure you want to do this?”
Maybe she shouldn’t have been so quick to lend a hand. Too late now.
Lacey nodded. If she could handle years of her coach, the paparazzi, and sponsors, she could handle this kind of pressure. “Just point me.”
“If you get their drinks, Rosie and I will sweep around and take their orders. Then you can help clear the tables. The rest we’ll make up as we go. You ready?”
Lacey nodded as a pair of cars full of teenagers pulled into the parking lot.
“Here goes.”
For the next hour, Pappy’s was a flood of adolescents stuffing their faces, laughing, and carrying on. Apparently, the home team won, leaving everyone in high spirits.
Lacey rushed from table to table, delivering drinks on the front end, bussing them on the back. It was exhausting, but exhilarating. Working as a waitress was about the furthest thing she could do from being a snowboard champion, but no one was the wiser. No one here recognized her, and she found herself laughing even as she worked harder than she’d worked since training for the Olympics. In some ways, waiting tables was even harder work than training. It definitely wasn’t for the faint of heart. She felt a newfound respect for those who worked in the service industry.
True to Shirl’s warning, a little over an hour after the rush started, Pappy’s began to clear out. The worst was over, the calm settling in once more.
Lacey set about collecting the discarded plates, delivering drinks to the last wave of kids, and wiping down the U-shaped counter when a large set of rugged hands caught her attention as they eased onto the white Formica surface. The fingers crisscrossed, and she glanced up to see Scott sliding onto a barstool.
He was wearing that same Oregon Ducks skullcap and coat from the first time he fixed her furnace. He pulled off his cap and stuffed it in his pocket.
His dark brown hair stuck out in every which direction until he combed his fingers through it, settling it in thick waves.
“What happened?” he said. “Couldn’t pay for your meal and they put you to work?” This time, the way his eyes twinkled made it obvious he was flirting.
She smiled and set a cup and saucer in front of him. “I was here finishing dinner when two waitresses called in sick. I sort of volunteered myself since it sounded like a mass of humanity was about to descend. Which, of course, it did.” She looked around. “Where’s Savannah?”
“She’s w
ith her mom. I normally get her on weekends, but Theresa moved south on Monday.” An unreadable but pained shadow passed through his eyes, and Lacey’s heart went out to him. Clearly, Savannah was the center of Scott’s universe and he adored her.
“I’m sorry.”
“It is what it is, right? Nothing I can do but try and make the most of it.” He unzipped his coat and shrugged out of it. Underneath, he wore a black and white referee’s shirt.
She gestured toward his shirt. “What’s this? You’re a referee, too?”
He glanced down at his attire. “Oh, yeah. I officiate the games.”
Lacey cocked her hip to one side and began ticking off on her fingers. “You’re an owner, you do maintenance, you’re an accountant, you volunteer at the skate park. Now you’re a referee? Is there anything you don’t do, Scott?”
The guy had a serious case of the busies. Did he even know how to relax?
“I run a summer football camp and do volunteer maintenance for the county park, too.”
Was this guy for real? Did he ever just…stop? Smell the roses?
“What do you do for fun?”
An odd expression came over his face as if he didn’t understand the question.
“You do know how to have fun, don’t you?” She stepped closer and eyed him.
“Sure. Yeah. Of course.” But the way he said it made it clear he was coming to the realization he hadn’t experienced anything fun in a long time.
She could only guess that he’d buried himself in work to keep from thinking about the life he’d lost. The life that was ripped away against his will ten years ago.
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with being a workaholic,” she said with a wink. “Just remember to have some fun once in a while.” She handed him a menu even though he probably didn’t need it then hooked her thumb behind her. “I’ll go get Shirl to take your order.”
Hurrying off, she realized how apropos her advice was. Wasn’t her need to have more fun part of the reason she’d road tripped her way to Hope Falls in the first place? Because she’d been drowning in the residue of corporate America? Snowboarding hadn’t been fun in years. Instead of feeling the thrill of trying a new trick, she feared wiping out, because that meant failure. Instead of the exhilaration of the brisk wind on her face, she felt only biting cold and a yearning for her pajamas, a blanket, and a fireplace.
