BATTERED BLUFF

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BATTERED BLUFF Page 4

by Beck, Jessica


  “Why do they even have a say in what you do with your life, Killian?” I asked. “You sold the business, right?”

  “I did, but there are some rather complicated issues attached to that sale. I’m afraid the attorney I used to sell the business was on Vera and Abel’s payroll. If the business makes less than eighty-two percent of its sales we made last year, I’m obligated to buy it back, at a reduced price at least, or I have to take a rather large hit.. It wouldn’t surprise me if Abel and Vera have both been sabotaging the grocery chain in order to get their old jobs back, but I’m going to tell them tomorrow that I’d rather eat the penalties involved than to go back into business with them.”

  “How bad are the penalties?”

  “It’s two million dollars I’d rather not lose, but what is my freedom worth? Certainly more than that,” he said. Two million? He was a stronger person than I was. That kind of penalty would be overwhelming for just about most people.

  Clearly his former business associates didn’t realize that Killian wasn’t most people.

  “What’s your daughter think about the situation?” I asked him.

  “She just wants me to be happy,” he said. “Besides, she made enough off the sale to live comfortably for a very long time. After my wife died, I endowed Leandra with a seventeen percent share of the business.”

  “Seventeen. That’s an odd number, isn’t it?”

  “Not when you know the story behind it. She was seventeen when your husband saved her life, and that’s been our lucky number ever since. Jake’s miracle shot happened on the seventeenth of the month as well.”

  “Then the anniversary of what happened is tomorrow,” I told him.

  “It is indeed. We normally have a party to celebrate it every month. As a matter of fact, this will be the first one I’ve missed since it happened,” he said sadly.

  “Surely you can get away for it for a few hours,” I told him.

  “I truly wish that I could, but I’m afraid this time that it’s not going to happen,” he said brusquely, and I knew better than to pursue it.

  I glanced at the clock and said, “We’d better get started on those vegetables. You can help me, or you can set the table for our meal, it’s your choice.”

  “Do you honestly need me in here?” Killian asked.

  “I like the company, but no, I’ve got it covered.”

  “Then I’ll take care of the table settings,” he said. As Killian started to leave the kitchen, he hesitated and turned to me. “Suzanne, you’re really easy to talk to. You know that, don’t you?”

  “What can I say? I like to listen,” I admitted.

  “I know why, too—because you’re very good at it,” he said. “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep what I told you this evening between us. I’m not used to opening up, and I don’t want anyone to know how I really feel about them.”

  “I’m going to tell Jake, that can’t be helped, but we can keep your secrets between us,” I answered him honestly. If he’d made the caveat before our conversation I would have ended it then and there. There was nothing, and I mean nothing, that I didn’t share with my husband.

  “Understood,” Killian answered. “I’ve trusted your husband longer than you’ve known him.”

  “Then we’re good,” I said.

  As the rich man left, I noticed that slight stoop in his shoulders again. It was clear to me that Killian, for all of his wealth and power, was nearly alone in the world. If it weren’t for his daughter, I didn’t see how he’d make it, and from the sound of it, he wasn’t going to have her very much longer. Jake and I were going to have to make it a point to be there for him. He deserved to have someone in his corner, and it appeared that his remaining family and old business associates were a bust.

  As I started putting the vegetables together and getting out a large carbon steel pan, I set about finishing up our meal. It was probably going to fall short of the normal fare Balsam Bluff was going to offer, but I knew that at least it would be good hearty food.

  My mother never made anything else.

  That just left dessert.

  I thought about whipping up some donuts, but I decided to use some pie filling I found and made a nice peach crisp with a crumb topping instead. Once that was in the oven along with everything else, I could get busy on sautéing the veggies. The crisp would be ready along with everything else, and unless I missed my guess, we’d be eating it all in less than half an hour.

  My mouth started watering at the prospect of the meal to come, which was always a good sign, at least as far as I was concerned.

  I suddenly realized that Killian had told me that we’d have eight people at dinner, but we’d only discussed four of his family members and friends. Besides Jake, Killian, and me, that left us one shy of the final tally, and I wondered who our mysterious eighth guest might be.

  I thought about going out to ask Killian about it then, but I had enough on my hands without adding a little snooping into the mix.

  Besides, I had a feeling that I’d find out soon enough.

  Chapter 5

  “WHAT IS this supposed to be?” Beatrice asked her uncle as she looked at the meatloaf and sautéed vegetables on the plate in front of her.

  “It’s dinner, and we’re lucky to have Suzanne here to make it for us,” Killian answered with more than a hint of frost in his voice.

  Beatrice poked at a piece of onion with her fork and then put it down again. “Does the staff really need to eat with us? No offense,” she added as she turned to me.

  “None taken,” I said as I gave her my brightest artificial smile. “Sorry if what I made isn’t up to your usual standards.”

  Killian, in an uncharacteristic show of temper, slammed his palm down on the table. “She’s my guest, Beatrice, not an employee, but even if she were, that’s no excuse for your rudeness.”

  “Sorry,” she said, drawing out the word and dripping it with sarcasm.

  “Apologize to her,” Killian demanded.

  “I thought I just did,” she snapped.

  “That’s not necessary,” I interjected. “I’ve been treated a lot worse than that in my life,” I added with a grin as I tried to disarm the tension in the air.

  “Perhaps so, but not at my table you won’t be,” Killian said. “Beatrice, you can say you’re sorry, and mean it, or you are excused.”

  It was clear the beautiful woman was not used to being scolded, and she didn’t take it all that well. For a second I thought she was going to get up and leave the table, but her hunger must have gotten the better of her. “I apologize. I’m sure it’s...tasty.”

  “I think it is,” I said with a shrug as I took a big bite. I nearly choked on it, but that would have ruined the gesture, so I managed to keep from doing it, though just barely.

  “I’ll take yours if you don’t want it,” Jake answered, taking a large bite off his plate as well.

  Jasper had a nibble, but then he probably ate everything that way, while Abel and Vera both made modest attempts as well.

  Killian took a bite nearly as large as mine, and after he swallowed, he said, “Suzanne, it’s even better than it smells, and that’s saying something. Are you sure you haven’t been classically trained in the kitchen?”

  He was just flattering me now, and I knew it, but I smiled at him sincerely for the effort he’d put forth on my behalf. “No, I’m not even trained at donutmaking. I just kind of picked it up.”

  “You work in a donut shop?” Vera asked, doing her best to feign interest.

  “She owns the place. It’s called Donut Hearts,” Jake said proudly.

  “It’s a modest little shop, but it suits me,” I said. Where had that come from? I loved my donut shop, and I didn’t have to justify it to anyone, certainly not the likes of these people.

  “I’m sure it does,” Abel said before turning to Killian. “You’ll have trained staff here tomorrow, is that correct?”

  “If they can get up the mountain,” Ki
llian answered with a grin.

  Did Abel’s face go a little white upon hearing that? Vera touched his arm lightly. “He’s kidding, Abel. There’s nothing to worry about. It’s not as though we’re all trapped up here together,” she said, though it was clear that she had at least a few concerns about the place. Where Abel was tall and slim, sporting a hooknose and oversized eyebrows, Vera was short and a bit overweight. Her roots were in need of a touch-up, and her dress was just a tad too tight, but she seemed okay to me.

  Sometimes first impressions were dangerous, though.

  I was still going to keep my eye on her.

  “It’s actually quite good,” Jasper said, surprising us all after taking another, larger bite this time.

  “Don’t sound so surprised,” Killian said. “Suzanne was gracious enough to step in when our staff didn’t show up, and I think she did a wonderful job.”

  Vera clouded up a bit. “Honestly Killian, I wish you’d get over this desire to get away from the world and go back to doing what you do best. If you were still running the business, you could be eating prime rib every night, not meatloaf.”

  Our host studied her a moment without speaking, though the silence said volumes. She reddened a bit before he turned to Beatrice, ignoring Vera completely. “It just so happens that I like meatloaf better, Vera. Take a bite, Bee.”

  It was clearly a pet name for her, and one she didn’t like based on the sudden stiffness in her spine. She tasted some nonetheless. Taking the smallest bite I’d ever seen anyone try in my life, she managed to convey the impression that she had to choke it down at that. “Mmmm,” was all that she said.

  Killian’s left eyebrow shot up as he waited, so she took a larger portion on her fork and ate it quickly, as though it was some kind of medicine and not my mother’s famous meatloaf recipe.

  Did I see her smile for a split second after giving it a fair taste? I couldn’t tell—it was that fleeting—but I decided to accept it for what I thought it had been. What did I really care whether she liked it or not? I was pleased with it, and so was Jake. Killian clearly liked it as much as we did, and that was really all that mattered to me.

  We were halfway through with our meal when our host turned to Beatrice again. “If you honestly have problems with one of my employees eating with us tonight, I’ll warn you now that you’re not going to be happy by the time the meal is over.”

  “I’m sure whoever it will be is fine, just as long as it’s not Hank,” she said, the distaste clear in her voice.

  Killian’s grin told me that whoever Hank might be, he was our going to be our eighth and final dinner guest.

  A large man with rough clothing and a weathered face walked in, laughing. “Did someone say my name? You know what they say. Speak of the devil and suddenly he appears. Haw haw haw.” He bent over the table and took a deep whiff of my meatloaf. “My dear sweet mother’s been dead for twenty years, but I could swear that’s her meatloaf I’m smelling right now. Tell me I haven’t died and gone to heaven.”

  “Unfortunately, no,” Beatrice said softly.

  Hank smiled at her and shot his finger gun at her, index finger extended and thumb cocked skyward. “Not yet anyway, Beatrice, not yet.”

  “Grab a plate, Hank. Suzanne made dinner for us tonight,” Killian said with a smile. “How’s the road looking?” Before the man could answer, Killian added to the rest of us, “Hank Bannock is my general handyman around here, which doesn’t really do him justice. Just know that if someone made it, Hank can fix it, and higher praise I could not give anyone.”

  “Come on, Boss, you’re going to embarrass me,” Hank said as he scooped up a massive portion of meatloaf and piled more vegetables on his plate than I would have believed it could hold.

  “How about the road?” Killian asked again.

  Hank just shrugged. “It’s hard to say. A lot of it depends on what happens tonight. If we get some rain, we should be okay.”

  “And if we get more than some?” Abel interjected.

  Hank made a motion of his hand sliding down an incline. “Then she all ends up down the bottom of the highway, but don’t worry about it. I think we’ll be all right.”

  “Well, if you think so, then I’m sure we’ll all be fine,” Abel said with a frown.

  “Worrying about it won’t do anyone any good,” Vera said as she patted the older man’s shoulder.

  “Probably not, but that won’t keep me from doing it anyway,” Abel replied.

  Hank finished his first big bite of meatloaf and then said to me, “Ma’am, if you’re not already spoken for, I’d like to propose marriage to you based on this meatloaf alone.” His grin was infectious, and I was about to answer when Jake beat me to it.

  “Sorry, she’s taken,” he said with a smile.

  “Of course she is,” Hank answered, doing his best to look crestfallen, though I could see a smile hiding under his lowered head. “Well, if I can’t have you as my wife, then I’d at least like to have you as my friend,” he said as he offered his hand to me across the table. “With your permission, that is, sir.”

  Jake laughed heartily. “I don’t have anything to do with granting anything,” he said. “She’s the head of the family, not me.”

  “That’s enough from both of you,” I said with a grin. “Hank, anyone who likes my cooking that much can be my friend any day of the week.”

  He nodded. “Now, would it be too much to ask you for your name, my new friend?”

  “I’m Suzanne Hart, and this is my husband, Jake Bishop.”

  “You didn’t take his name when you married?” Beatrice asked me pointedly.

  “I’ve been a Hart so long, and I run a business called Donut Hearts, that it just made sense to keep it,” I explained. “Bishop’s on my checkbook, though.”

  “You still use a checkbook?” Jasper asked incredulously.

  “I do,” I said as I shook my head slightly. “I have a landline telephone at my shop, too.”

  “Seriously?” Jasper asked.

  “Seriously,” I answered. “I imagine you probably need one up here. I haven’t been able to get a signal on my cellphone since we got up on top of the mountain, not even when we were upstairs in the turret.”

  “Do you mean the tower?” Killian asked with a grin.

  “Sorry, tower,” I said quickly.

  “Don’t apologize. I like turret better anyway. From now on it’s the turret, not the tower,” he declared, and no one was going to dispute it. “You’re right about cell service. One of the reasons I built Balsam Bluff was to have a place to get away from it all. What do you think?”

  “Honestly?” I asked him.

  “Always.”

  “I think it’s brilliant,” I replied.

  “See?” Killian asked gleefully to his two business associates. “Suzanne gets it, so why don’t the two of you understand?”

  “Because you can’t run the business without cell service,” Vera said impatiently.

  “I’m not running a business anymore, or did you forget that small fact?” Killian asked her with a smile that held no warmth at all.

  “Must we really have this conversation at the dinner table?” Abel asked.

  “No, of course not,” Killian capitulated. “Sorry.”

  What was that all about? Evidently the lack of cell service on the mountain had been an ongoing bone of contention between them, but our host had given up the argument so quickly that it had surprised me.

  “So, where exactly is the landline?” I asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.

  “My uncle keeps it locked up in his home office beside the fireplace out there,” Beatrice said with a frown. “We may be cut off, but he has complete and total access to the outside world.”

  Killian shrugged it off as he finished his meatloaf and sliced off another piece. I was glad that I’d made a double batch. Regardless of how they’d all started the meal, everyone seemed to be enjoying the main course. “Rank hath its privile
ges,” he said.

  “That’s why I’m late,” Hank said with a laugh. “I was pretty rank before, so I stopped to grab a shower. Haw haw haw.” He’d polished off his plate and then looked at me expectantly. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance we’re getting dessert, too, is there?”

  “That depends,” I said.

  “On what?”

  “How do you feel about peach crisp?”

  “I’m in love with it, as long as the meatloaf doesn’t get jealous,” he said with a grin.

  “Let me clear the dishes and I’ll right be back,” I said as I stood.

  Killian cleared his throat. “You’ll do no such thing. You cooked. We’ll clean up. Everybody grab your plates and follow me into the kitchen.”

  “I don’t mind,” I protested, but Killian took my plate from me as Hank reached for Jake’s.

  “You heard the boss,” Hank said. “You sit right there and we’ll serve you.”

  “Okay, I can see that I’m outnumbered,” I replied.

  “We’ll be back in a jiff,” Hank said, and everyone else left the table and headed for the kitchen.

  I took that chance to have a word with Jake in private before they returned. “Is it just me, or is there a great deal of tension and animosity at this table tonight?”

  “It’s not just you,” Jake said. “I heard some things while you were cooking that I can’t wait to tell you, but I shouldn’t do it until we’re alone.”

  I looked around the empty room. “Wouldn’t now qualify?”

  “You know what I mean. Later,” he said as the kitchen doors swung open and Killian appeared with the crisp I’d made earlier. Hank followed close behind with a gallon of vanilla bean ice cream with a scoop.

  “Hope you don’t mind adding something a little bit extra to the mix,” he said.

  “You read my mind. I was just thinking ice cream would be perfect,” I admitted.

  “I’m telling you, we’re soul mates, Suzanne,” Hank said happily.

  The rest of them were all carrying something, even Beatrice, who had a caddy of forks. Jasper lined up the plates while Killian scooped out servings of the still-warm peach crisp. The second they hit the plate Hank topped them with scoops of ice cream, and soon we were all enjoying the treat.

 

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