by Lynn Cahoon
Harrold held out a hand, “I shouldn’t have read your paper without permission. I’m sorry, friend.”
As they shook, the other man smiled and nodded. “Great job. Now, both of you head out of here. We’ve got a dinner to get ready for.”
As the men shuffled past Angie and the others, she could hear the mumbled threat from George. “Next time you take my stuff, Taylor’s not going to be in earshot when I take you down.”
“You’re the one who should be glad he stopped me.” Harrold glanced back at Taylor and waved. “I would have crushed you.”
“Taylor...” Felicia popped out of the kitchen, her blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. “Oh, I didn’t realize you guys were here already. I was going to ask Taylor to keep an eye out for you. I know first impressions of this place and the guys can be a little intimidating.”
“Intimidating isn’t the word. Scary as heck is more accurate.” Hope almost ran toward Felicia. “If I wasn’t getting extra credit for this, I’d be running home right now.”
The man now known as Taylor smiled. “We all need a little help now and then. Let me introduce myself. I’m Taylor Simpson. You must be Felicia’s friends.”
Chapter 2
Ian held out his hand. “Ian McNeal. And this is Angie Turner, head chef and partner in the County Seat with Felicia. And that over there, quivering in fear, is Hope Anderson. She’s usually stronger than she appears today.”
“I think you’re overestimating my character, Ian.” But Hope smiled and waved.
“We’re still missing a few, but we can get started and the rest will come in as they arrive. What’s on the menu for tonight?” Angie walked toward Felicia and gave her a quick hug.
“We have tons of chicken and potatoes. What you do with that is up to you.” Taylor joined the group heading into the kitchen. “We like our guests to have freedom to create. Besides, the guys are thankful for any meal they get. Sometimes, they don’t eat for days. I can’t even imagine that. And with all the food that goes to waste in America.”
“You don’t have to lecture me on food waste. I work with the River Vista Farmers Market, and I’ve seen a lot of perfectly good produce go to the compost heap because it’s not sold or not perfect. Maybe we could work out a deal?” Ian studied Taylor with interest. “We’re shutting down the market this Saturday for the season, but I’m meeting with the board tonight. Maybe I could come up with a proposal.”
“You’re always saving the world.” Angie gave Ian a hug. “Let’s just feed this group, and you and Taylor can talk after we get dinner set up. I wish Estebe was here, I’d like to run a few ideas off him as we look at your pantry.”
As if she’d called him, her sous chef and the other cook, Matt, walked in the door. Matt waved at Angie. “Boss, you take us to the nicest places.”
“Just be happy you have a job and a home. Some of these people would be thrilled to have your life. Although I’m not sure who would want to be you.” Estebe turned from the shocked Matt, headed to the stoves, and nodded his approval. “This looks adequate. What are we making?”
Angie waved him over to the pantry. “I want to try something. But you make sure I’m not off my rocker.”
Ian smiled as Angie and Estebe headed to the pantry. “You’ll get more points for taste here than creativity.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Angie threw a look over her shoulder. “A little gourmet food never hurt anyone.”
Hope glanced up at Ian as she went to put on an apron. “She’s kidding, right? I don’t think these guys want fancy stuff.”
“Relax. When have you known Angie to make something that just looked good? She’s all about the taste.” Felicia pursed her lips as she started stacking plates from the dishwasher. “At least, I hope so.”
By the time Angie and Estebe returned from the pantry, they had a plan. She called the group together and started breaking out the chores. “Hope, you and Ian are on potato peeling duty. Felicia, you can focus on dessert. Matt, you help Estebe with the protein. And I’ll handle the gravy and the other toppings.”
Ian walked over to the pantry. “I take it we’re doing another take on the chicken poutine I vetoed at lunch?”
“It’s a good dish. It just needs some tweaks.” She turned toward Felicia. “Hey, could you ask Taylor how many he expects us to be feeding tonight? I’d hate to underprep.”
“I already did. Two fifty was his rounded number. Sometimes a little less, sometimes a little more.” Felicia still sat at the table, a pen and paper in hand. “What will work better, chocolate brownies or some sort of cake?”
“If you make brownies, they can add vanilla ice cream and melted chocolate over the top.” Hope grinned. “Okay, so that’s my favorite dessert ever. So sue me.”
“That’s enough of a sway vote for me.” Felicia headed to the pantry. “When I’ve got the brownies in, I’ll come help peel potatoes.”
Matt plugged in a stereo Angie hadn’t seen him bring in with him, and the too-quiet kitchen now almost sounded like their own kitchen at the County Seat. By five, their prep was done and they had an hour before dinner service. The group gathered around the table in the kitchen, and Estebe brought out a pot of soup with three loaves of round bread.
“I figured we wouldn’t have time for a real meal before it was time to cook, so I brought lamb stew and fresh-baked bread for us to share.” He tilted his head down toward the table, but not before Angie saw the tinge of pink on his cheeks.
Felicia came from the back of the kitchen with a plate filled with peanut butter cookies. “I thought we might need these to keep up our strength, but now that Estebe brought real food, I’m not sure anyone will want one.”
“You’re kidding, right? Peanut butter is my favorite. I love making peanut butter jam thumbprint cookies during the holidays.” Matt reached over the table and grabbed two of the cookies.
Estebe cut the bread and Hope went to the fridge to grab butter. He filled a bowl with the steaming soup and then set a slice of bread over the top. Passing it down the table, everyone waited for Estebe to fill enough bowls before they started eating.
The table quieted down and Ian looked at the group. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to say a blessing.”
Matt set his already-filled spoon back down in the soup bowl. “Go ahead, man.”
As Ian prayed, Angie thought about her own childhood where she was taught to show gratitude for the food on the table and the hands that prepared it. Maybe that tradition had been the seed that had grown into her love of cooking.
The chatter died down a little as they all started eating. When they introduced a new menu at the restaurant, all the servers and kitchen staff shared a meal together. They called it a family meal. This felt the same, except Angie really thought of these people as family. This wasn’t the kitchen at the County Seat, but it was home for at least a time. She was amazed at how fast the bonds had been made between these strangers. But not really. Bonds made over food seemed to be stronger and longer lasting. Food was the great connector.
“So how do you like your classes this semester?” Angie turned to Hope, who had been texting someone. The girl flushed and put away her phone.
“Sorry, my friend Morgan was just checking to see if I was going to the soccer game tonight. Her boyfriend is playing in the intramural season this fall.” Hope glanced at the clock. “I told her I’d meet her at the stadium at seven thirty. We should be done by then, right?”
“If we’re not, you can still take off. It’s a volunteer activity. You can leave at any time.” Angie stirred her soup. The smell that wafted up from the bowl was heaven. “But you didn’t answer my question. How are classes? You’re still liking your program, right?”
“Definitely. I’m going to be finished next May, and I don’t know what I’ll do with myself.” Hope dunked her bread into her soup. “I’ll have tons of f
ree time.”
“No, you won’t.” Matt elbowed her. “When you graduate, you have to come play with us in the adult world. There are three things in the adult world. Work, sleep,” his eyes met Angie’s and he shrugged, then changed his word choice, “and more work. You’ll get used to it.”
“Whatever. Then why do I hear you talking about your trips out to the desert with your four-wheeler? You play more than anyone I know.”
“Who said I was an adult anyway?” He grinned, then turned to Estebe. “This is great. Want to share your recipe?”
As the men talked about the soup, Hope turned to Angie. “One of the professors is so amazing. He’s tall, and has dark hair but blue eyes. And when he looks at you, it makes a girl’s head spin. Not to mention his voice.”
“His voice?” Angie hoped she was keeping the grin she felt off her face. Their Hope had a crush on teacher.
“He’s Canadian. Whatever he says sounds so romantic.” Hope sighed, then took a sip of water. “Not like the dweeb boys around here. All they want to talk about is hunting, fishing, and what the Broncos did last weekend. And who plays on blue Astroturf?”
“Apparently your football team.” A slightly accented voice added to the conversation, and Hope actually gasped and looked around for a place to hide. “Good evening, Hope. I decided to come by and help serve tonight.”
“Professor Monet. I can’t believe you’re here.” Hope’s eyes glowed but her face was bright red. She looked like a possessed Halloween doll as she jumped up from her seat at the table. “I was just eating. I probably should be doing something. I’m sorry, I’ll get busy right now.”
“Hold on, Hope, I’m not here to grade you. Sit down, eat. We all have to eat, right?” He winked at Angie. “It’s what keeps us in our line of work busy.”
Hope sank back into her chair like a balloon with a slow leak. “Everyone, this is Professor Monet. He’s visiting this semester from Canada. Professor, this is my work gang.”
“Daniel, Daniel Monet.” He grabbed an extra bowl from the sideboard and sat in an empty chair at the table. “Do you mind if I join you? I didn’t get a chance to grab dinner before I came over to help. Office hours seem to always run over.”
“No, please. Hand your bowl over and Estebe will hook you up. I’m Angie Turner, Hope’s boss.” She pointed to Estebe and, starting with him, introduced the people sitting at the table. When she got to Ian, he shook his head.
“Ian McNeal. Originally from South London. Have you ever been there, Arnie?”
Angie could feel the tension in Ian’s body, and as she watched, the two men’s gazes locked. A sly smile came over Daniel’s too-perfect face.
“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure. No, Canada’s been my home for most of my life.” He took the full soup bowl from Felicia with a nod. “And it’s Daniel, actually. Not Arnie.”
Everyone at the table was quiet now. They had felt the strain between the two men as well. Angie put a hand on Ian’s arm, and he broke contact and turned a reassuring smile on her.
“We better get this meal finished. Service starts in thirty minutes.” He leaned toward her and whispered, “Let it go, I’ll tell you in the car.”
Angie nodded, then finished her meal, watching as the newcomer ate and made small talk with Felicia and Matt. He was tall and slender, his brown hair cut short and a pair of wire-frame glasses set just right on his face. He was dressed in a solid turtleneck, what looked like new jeans, and a business jacket, bringing the look right to the perfect professor. And from the look on Hope’s face, the girl had it bad.
Angie had fallen for one of her professors. A young girl’s crush on a man who probably hadn’t even known her name. He had taught philosophy, and the ideas they’d discussed in class had her mind spinning. Once, she’d dropped off a paper and her fingers had touched his. She had studied her hand for days, trying to remember the touch. But then the semester had ended and she’d started taking culinary classes. The professor left Boise the next year for some larger college in Texas—or had it been Seattle? The details escaped her now. But she remembered the feelings, and seeing Hope going through the same thing made it all that more tender.
Taylor burst into the room. “There you all are. I’ve been stuck in my office on a budget meeting conference call. You’d think I was housing these guys at the Owyhee Plaza or something the way the board complains about every expenditure.” He sniffed the air. “You made soup?”
“For our dinner. Would you like some?” Estebe stood and went to grab Taylor a bowl. “Sit down, we have a few minutes before we have to get cooking.”
“It smells terrific in here.” He pulled up a chair between Felicia and Daniel. “Maybe you should all come every night. Sometimes the cooking crew don’t quite get the point of feeding others. Food isn’t just a meal, it’s a gift.”
“I’ve been saying that for years.” Ian took his empty bowl and reached for Angie’s. “Thank you for allowing us to come tonight and share our talents with your guests.”
Matt grabbed the empty bowls from his side of the table. “What he said. Ian’s got the silver tongue. He can charm anyone. Right, boss?”
“Now, what is that supposed to mean?” Angie turned a playful snarl toward Matt.
He ducked farther back into the kitchen. “Doesn’t mean nothing. I wouldn’t be referring to you. Your disposition is quite pleasant.”
“Unless you’re stuck on a recipe that’s not working.” Ian kissed her on the top of her head. “We should get this process started. We’ll be needing to set up the hot tray out front soon.”
She nodded. “You and Felicia handle that. I did two types of gravy, one more traditional and one more of a barbecue sauce, so we’ll need two trays for sauces.” She listed off the way she wanted the serving line to go, drawing it out on a sheet of paper. “The only ones who will need to be back here are Matt and Estebe. They’ll keep us in fresh, hot fries, but if someone starts to run out of something, make sure you call it out. I’ll run pans to and from the kitchen.”
“I could do that.” Hope took her bowl to the dishwasher station. “You don’t need to be our runner.”
“I want you to be on the line.” Angie thought this would be a good experience for Hope. Working as the dishwasher didn’t give her a lot of customer front experience. This would give her a different viewpoint of the career she was working toward. Even though most line cooks didn’t interact with the front, if she wanted her own restaurant someday, she’d have to deal with them sometime.
Daniel stood and followed her to the dishwashing station with his empty bowl. “I’ll serve next to you so you can tell me all about your job with these folks. They seem very friendly.”
She smiled up at him, and Angie blessed the guy for not making Hope feel uncomfortable in her feelings. She just hoped he wasn’t too invested in the young woman. Hope might be totally legal in the dating world, but she was still a kid and didn’t need to be dating someone at least fifteen years her senior. Angie glanced around the room. Her stomach had butterflies, just the same as those moments before she opened the doors at the County Seat. She’d always been nervous before openings. Which probably meant she cared.
“You all did a great job with prep. I know we’re not usually on the front of the house, but I hope you enjoy your time volunteering here as well as just cooking for others. Sometimes a welcoming smile or a friendly hello is just as needed as a hot meal.” Angie blinked away tears. “I’m so proud of all of you to take personal time out of your busy schedule to be here. It means a lot to me and Felicia, and of course to Taylor and the mission guys. Thank you all.”
Cheers and whistles filled the small kitchen, and now Angie did wipe at her eyes. She hoped she wouldn’t mess up her mascara. She didn’t wear it often enough to know, but she’d sneak away to the bathroom before they got started and check out her eye makeup. She didn’t want to look
like a raccoon as she was serving.
Two hours later, with everyone fed and the kitchen cleaned, the group was getting ready to leave. The food had been a big hit with the guys, and Angie thought she could tweak the recipe just a bit more before she added it to the menu. They all grouped together on the sidewalk outside the mission.
Felicia stood with Taylor, his arm around her waist. “Thanks for doing this, guys.”
“It was fun.” Matt reached out to shake Taylor’s hand. “And good to meet you finally. Felicia talks a lot about you.”
“Does she? What exactly does she say about me?” Taylor chuckled.
“Matt, you need to shut up and leave.” Felicia pointed a finger down the street. “Don’t forget, I’ve got some dirt on you too.”
“Point taken.” He waved and started walking toward his car.
“Anyone going near Warm Springs? I walked here from the campus, but it’s a little far to walk home.” Daniel came out to the sidewalk and met the group. A black SUV pulled up to the light, then sped off, turning right on the red to the horns and annoyance of the other drivers coming through the intersection.
“Heading out to River Vista, sorry,” Ian said. Angie didn’t think his voice said sorry at all. She was about to say they could make a detour when Hope spoke.
“I’m meeting friends at the JV soccer game tonight. I can drop you off first, Professor Monet, if you don’t mind being in my car. It’s kind of old.” Hope looked like she wished she’d never offered the ride.
“Student cars are supposed to be old and falling apart. That way you study hard to better your property.” He smiled at her, and Angie saw the girl’s shoulders relax. He turned toward the group. “It was very nice to meet Hope’s work family. I’m sure our paths will cross again.”
As they walked away, Ian muttered, “I hope not.”
Chapter 3
Wednesday morning, Angie stood in the kitchen drinking her coffee and thinking about yesterday’s adventure. Ian had been quiet all the way home, turning up the music when she tried to talk. She’d invited him in for dessert when they got to the farmhouse, but he’d begged off. He’d said he’d had a headache, but she thought the more likely cause was his discussion with the professor. Whatever it was, Ian had made it clear he didn’t want to talk.
