Across the room, Toni slid a tray into the oven. "You two look like you've been digging through a coal mine."
“Agreed.” Jamie turned to Meg. “Is there someplace we can wash up?”
“Sure. Head up to our apartment.” Meg inched closer, waving at the dusty box. “Did you at least find something fun?"
"Actually," Jamie turned and pulled out a few of the pictures they'd found, “yes.”
Wiping her hands on a dish rag, Meg came around to one side of him and Toni to the other.
Meg whistled. "Cool."
"What?" Grace peeked over Meg's shoulder.
Coming in from the back porch, Adam stopped at his wife’s side and peered down at the photos now laid out on the island. "That's the clinic."
"According to the date on the back," Meg said, "about 150 years ago."
"Wow." Adam held the framed photograph and looked to his cousin. "You got plans for this?"
Jamie shook his head. "It's all yours. Old Man Thompson doesn’t have any interest in the stuff in storage.”
“Well," Aunt Eileen handed a stack of plates to Adam, "that doesn't surprise me at all. That old man only cares about his horses."
"Mostly his horses." Finn closed the kitchen door behind him. "He did give up a lot for his son when push came to shove."
"He has a point," Jamie added. "Could have something to do with why he was willing to sell the building after all these years."
Aunt Eileen handed another stack of dishes to Finn. "Maybe, but I'm not gonna waste my time trying to figure it out. You two," she waved a finger at Jamie and Abbie, "go on if you want to clean up. Dinner will be on the table shortly.”
“Yes ma’am.” Five minutes in the kitchen with his family and Jamie was at peace again. This was one of the biggest reasons he’d pushed for a pub in Tuckers Bluff. His gaze shifted to Abbie, hair down and swaying with her hips as she made her way down the hall and upstairs. Now he had two reasons for wanting very much to stay in Tuckers Bluff.
CHAPTER NINE
By the time Jamie and Abbie returned to the kitchen, all the food was set out on the massive island. Half the family had already taken their places around the dining room table.
Keeping a close eye on Abbie, Jamie noticed she'd hardly put any food on her plate. "We won't run out. If we did, it would be a first."
Scooping a little extra mashed potato onto the plate, she smiled up at him. "Saving room for dessert. That was a tray of cake balls Toni put in the oven."
"Smart woman." At least he hoped it was all about the dessert and nothing about reliving a nightmare.
"Would you two get the lead out," Grace called from the other room. "I'm hungry and we have a lot to talk about."
Holding the chair for Abbie, Jamie found himself wishing he could do so much more for her. Everyone finally seated, his cousin Finn did the abridged version of saying grace. The fact that neither his aunt nor uncle scolded his cousin for skipping from “thank you father” to “through the lips and past the gums” only showed how hungry everyone was. Or anxious to hear what Grace had to say.
Eileen split open one of Toni’s homemade buns. “How did this simple idea get so crazy?”
“It should be an easy choice for the council.” Jamie stabbed at his dinner. “A no brainer.”
Grace nodded. “Remember, cousin dear, we don’t have many restaurateurs on the town council.”
“The facts are all in black and white,” Jamie said. “We couldn’t have made the report any more clear.” The very next day after the emergency meeting, he and Grace had presented the council with all the data from his initial research as well as a consolidation of why his proposal would be better suited to Tuckers Bluff than Crocker. “The pub will be a boom all around for the county. Not only by bringing in new customers for all the shops, but by selling local wines from Brady—something I wouldn’t count on Hemingway’s to do—and having local baked goods—”
Toni waved a fork at him, “Just remember, if business gets too good you’re going to need more than me.”
“Noted.” He grinned at his cousin’s wife.
“The problem is some of the more vocal folks on the council want to go with the fast money.” Grace took a sip of her beer. “This is pretty good. What is it again?”
“Dallas Craft,” Jamie answered quickly. “That’s the brewery expanding and seriously considering bringing their business out here if we open O’Fearadaigh’s.”
“Don’t companies want to move into Dallas, not away from it?” Aunt Eileen asked.
“That’s mostly companies coming from high tax states. Which is the reason Dave, the brewery owner, wants to move some place less hectic.”
“No one would ever describe Tuckers Bluff as hectic.” Abbie smiled.
“Dallas is growing so fast some people think it’s going to be another Los Angeles soon. Dave and his wife just had their second child. Small town living is holding a lot more appeal for them than it might have a couple of years ago.”
Eileen slathered butter on a piece of roll and, rather than toss it into her mouth, studied it. “Maybe we need to show the council more than a report.”
“Explain, please,” Sean prodded his sister-in-law.
“Do we know anyone who bakes better than Toni?”
Jamie shook his head. “Which is why I promised her my first born to bake the bread for the pub.”
“Exactly.” Eileen waved the buttered morsel at her nephew. “Even though I follow the recipe to the letter, and even though my soda bread is mouthwatering good, when Toni follows the recipe it’s like stepping into my grandmother’s kitchen again. Only the few of us here have ever tasted Toni’s soda bread.”
“Or her rolls,” Meg added.
“Which,” Abbie held one up, “are really good.”
“You’ve got a point.” The family patriarch looked to Aunt Eileen. “Please make it.”
Aunt Eileen rolled her eyes and faced her nephew. “Like Doubting Thomas, the council needs to see exactly what they’ll be getting.”
Doubting Thomas? Staring at his aunt’s wide grin the connection suddenly clicked in his mind. “Or,” he smiled back at her, “taste.”
“We’ll invite the council to the ranch,” Aunt Eileen continued, “cook everything on the menu for them.”
For the first time in days he felt a glimmer of hope. He hadn’t voiced his fears out loud, but with every passing day that the council delayed coming out in his favor, the dream of a family pub had been slipping away, but now…
“You may have something,” Jamie said. “After all, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,”
“Oh,” Meg bounced in her seat, “I’m liking this. Do you think it might be better to invite them here in town to the B&B, maybe include a few other folks also to get a resident’s take on the menu?”
“That’s a great idea.” Adam patted his wife’s knee under the table. “The ranch may be a bit like we’re all ganging up on the council, but hosting a meal here in town may help them feel more like they’re on their home turf.”
“Well,” Abbie cleared her throat, “if you’re looking for neutral territory you can do this at the café. We can close it off to regular customers, just invite the council and a few special invitation guests. Even though that’s a great kitchen, a commercial kitchen would work more in your favor.”
Everyone at the table stared at Abbie. A few mouths even hung slightly open.
Abbie looked from left to right and shrugged. “What can I say, I’ve been convinced the pub will be good for this town.”
Until now, Jamie hadn’t been sure he’d made any real progress convincing Abbie, only suspected. Knowing she was on his side for sure, he couldn’t stop himself from grinning like the village idiot.
One by one, each family member at the table smiled and nodded.
“Sounds like we have a plan.” Aunt Eileen leaned back, rubbing her hands together.
“Agreed,” Sean tapped a spoon lightly on t
he table, “but what if we go one better.”
“One better?” Jamie asked.
Uncle Sean nodded. “Invite Hemingway’s to come and do the same.”
It took Jamie a moment to connect the dots. A deep rumble of laughter erupted at the thought of the mayor and his cronies champing down on sushi and BLTs made with eggplant instead of bacon. “Oh, that’s rich, Uncle Sean.”
“I know.” The man laughed with him.
“But it could work,” Meg added.
“Not could.” Aunt Eileen bobbed her head. “Side by side, you’ll beat Hemingway’s hands down.”
“Especially,” Adam added, “if you open it up to the whole town.”
“Like a fair?” Meg asked.
“Or,” Eileen grinned splitting her face in two, “a sort of cook-off. This needs to be bigger than the town council.”
Jamie turned to Abbie. “Now that we’re turning this into the tasting to end all tastings, you still volunteering your place?”
Abbie nodded. “How can I go wrong if the whole town will be coming?”
“It will be standing room only,” Grace said cheerily. “I’ll make the offer to Crocker and if they’re on board, we’ll present the proposal to the council.”
“And if Crocker doesn’t want to play?” Adam asked.
“Then,” Jamie leaned back in his chair, excitement burning once again inside him, “we won’t have the satisfaction of watching the council cringe at eggplant pizza, but either way, by the time we’re done feeding them, they won’t have any choice than give us the permits.”
Abbie looked at him and for the first time in days her smile reached all the way to her eyes. Oh, yeah. Things were most definitely back on track.
****
“You sure you want to let us do this to you?” From the driver side of his old pickup, Jamie cast a quick glance in Abbie’s direction.
“You’re not doing anything to me.” Ever since she’d first volunteered the café during dinner at the B&B, she kept expecting that unsettling sensation that would rear its ugly head in the pit of her stomach whenever she’d made a stupid decision she would live to regret to snap at her. So far nothing had happened. From the moment she’d suggested using her kitchen she’d felt only a sense of accomplishment. Almost as if the pub was hers. Maybe it was some silly kinship after sorting through the attic of the soon to be pub. Or perhaps it had something to do with listening to Jamie’s infectious enthusiasm for over a week. Whatever the reason, she very badly wanted to do this. To be a part of convincing the town council, and maybe the town too, that O’Fearadaigh’s was a good idea.
Jamie turned the corner and looked her way again. “You really are one helluva woman.” His eyes momentarily widened and she had the feeling he hadn’t meant to say that. “I mean, uhm. Well, thank you. The town council has to take this whole thing more seriously if you’re on board.”
“I am. On board that is.” Ideas had been popping into her head left and right since dessert and hadn’t stopped. She twisted in her seat to fully face him. “As a matter of fact, how close are you to the beer guy, is it Dave?”
Jamie nodded. “Pretty friendly. I’ve known him since the days when he used to hit all the local bars pimping his product himself.”
“Do you think if we invited him to town for the taste off he might be keen on coming and serving his beers?”
Jamie’s face brightened and that lazy smile that could make a girl weak in the knees appeared, making her very thankful she was already sitting down. “I think that’s a fantastic idea. We’ll give the council, and the town, the full effect of what O’Fearadaigh’s will be like.”
“If you’re talking full effect, you’ll have to do it all, food, drink, ambiance.”
“Ambiance?”
“That would be Irish music too.”
She didn’t think his eyes could twinkle any brighter, but they did. “I should have thought of that.”
“Yes.” She turned forward in the seat and tugged at the safety belt, swallowing a teasing grin. “You should have.” Deep down in her bones she knew this was going to work. The town council would have to be out of their ever-loving minds not to choose the Farraday’s family pub over some new wave urban restaurant.
“Here you are.” Jamie pulled up to the curb. As he’d done on the other nights he drove her home from work, he circled the hood of the truck in nearly the same amount of time it took her to unsnap her seatbelt and climb down to the sidewalk.
“Thanks.” She’d given up on convincing him she could walk herself home without need of an escort. The routine was pretty standard. He’d walk her to the door, she’d tell him that wouldn’t be necessary, he’d smile and do it anyway. Then she’d offer him tea or coffee and he would politely decline. A familiar song and dance. The lock undone, the knob turned, the door slightly ajar, she spun about to face him.
He stepped in closer than his usual spot at the edge of her porch. Close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his eyes shining against the overhead light, and held out the two photographs for her. “Don’t forget these.”
Sea green eyes remained fixed on hers. Slowly lifting one hand, his finger gently grazed her cheek before tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her mouth went dry and her palms grew damp. It had been way too long since she’d been kissed, and Jamie Farraday had the look of a man about to do just that. Unsure if she should lean in and enjoy the moment or turn and run for the hills, her choices vanished with his single step in retreat. Once again, Jamie stood at his designated spot by the edge of the landing.
“Would you like to come in for a cup of tea or coffee? Maybe a cold drink?”
He smiled, taking another step back onto the walkway. “I’d better not. It’s late.”
“Yes.” She shoved the door behind her fully open, crossed the threshold and turned to face him. “See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” he nodded.
As she’d done all the other nights he’d brought her home, she turned the single lock, leaned against the door and waited for the rumble of the truck to disappear down the street. The difference, tonight, she wished more than ever that he would have stayed. At least a little while. And maybe, just maybe, left her with the memory of a good night kiss.
CHAPTER TEN
“Remind me again why I’m tagging along on this venture?” Sally May climbed into one of the Farraday ranch pickup trucks.
“Because,” Eileen waited with a bit less patience than she should have, “if I show up on Mabel Berkner’s doorstep by myself, she’ll know something’s up.”
“Oh, right.” Sally May snapped the seatbelt in place, then looked up at her friend. “And having two of us who never cross her doorway show up will be totally not suspicious.”
Eileen shrugged. Maybe Sally May was right. If Eileen couldn’t persuade Mabel to back off and be more supportive of what was good for the town, namely O’Fearadaigh’s Public House, then as a somewhat disinterested third party, Sally May could take a shot at the old bitty. If neither succeeded, at least Sally could be counted on to either prevent Eileen from killing the high and mighty teetotaler or help Eileen bury the body.
“Uh oh. You’ve got that Lucy-look to you.” Sally May shifted on the passenger side of the massive quad cab. “The one that always gets Ethel into trouble.”
“Nonsense. Just planning my speech ahead silently.”
“Uh huh.” Her friend of a bazillion years blew out a sigh. “Okay, what’s the strategy and what’s my role?”
“I’m still working on that part.”
“What?” Sally May swiveled around to face her again.
“Well, I haven’t yet come up with the right angle. Something to make her, if not support Jamison, at least not fight us.”
“We could talk down California hippy liberalism.”
“Is Hemingway’s based in California? And do they still have hippies?”
“No idea, but I’m guessing she doesn’t know either. That
woman could make a right wing conservative seem downright communist. You gotta know she won’t like anything that even hints at alfalfa sprouts or tofu or free love or legal pot.”
“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure free love and legal pot won’t be on Hemingway’s menus.”
Sally May looked over the rim of her sunglasses. “And alfalfa?”
“Maybe.” Eileen wished now she’d taken more time to learn about Hemingway’s before heading off to take on Mabel. “Jamie does seem to mention eggplant a lot.”
“Ooh, eggplant parmesan is really good.”
“I don’t think they cook Italian. I’m pretty sure Jamie referred to it on a hamburger, or was that a club sandwich?”
Sally May’s face scrunched in horror. “Either way, ick.”
“See. That’s why this cook-off is such a great idea. As long as Hemingway’s doesn’t cook rib eyes and baked potatoes, we’re golden.”
“Then why do we need Mabel on board?”
“Because I’d rather be platinum.”
Sally May rolled her eyes and shook her head.
Mabel Berkner lived on the other side of town about twenty minutes past the old golf course. The woman never married and as far as anyone knew only had the one nephew, her sister Lilly’s boy. Not the brightest bulb in the chandelier.
By the time Eileen pulled into the long narrow drive leading to the house that had been in Mabel’s family for generations, neither she nor Sally May had come up with a solid plan.
“This is absolutely crazy.” Sally May climbed down from the truck, mumbling. “It will never work.”
“Oh, shush.” Eileen slammed the driver side door shut. Deep down she feared her friend was right, but that was the last thing she wanted to admit. The Farradays had a lot riding on the upcoming cook-off. This crazy effort had to work. It just had to.
The second Eileen’s foot hit the ground the sound of barking dogs slammed into her. Glancing around, Eileen was delighted to see the two animals snarling like junkyard dogs were kenneled.
“Wouldn’t want to run into one of those two in a dark alley on a cold dark night.” Sally May frowned at the snarling animals. “So help me, if I wind up with a backside full buckshot on account of this house call, you will pay.”
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