Lily

by Chris Keniston

  Poppy wiped her hands on a rag. “He may be onto something. If you substituted the spitzbuben—which, he’s right, are out of this world—for the oatmeal they might get upset, but who complains about an extra something for free.”

  “Spitzbuben,” Lily repeated more softly with less incredulity in her voice. Slowly, the crease in her forehead eased and she repeated, “spitzbuben,” followed by the corners of her lips curling upward. Nodding her head and grinning contentedly, she settled her gaze on Cole. “Spitzbuben, it is.”

  And there he had one more thing that made him incredibly happy with no good reason why. Except maybe one. Lily. But he already knew that. What he didn’t know was how long would it take for this to wear off. Had he ever been this completely contented by the mere sight of another woman? Nope. Not a one. So much to consider.

  It didn’t take much longer for the kitchen to be lick-the-floor clean and for Lily and him to be on their way back to their cabin. And wasn’t that another thought that made him want to grin like a fool. A lot of things made him want to grin lately.

  “If I weren’t covered in layers of sugar and flour and ground nuts, I think I could easily collapse into bed right now and sleep for a week.” Lily undid the top button of her baker’s uniform. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ve probably got residual dustings on me too.” He followed her down the hall and smiled at her soft chuckle.

  “Things were a little crazier than usual.”

  “But it was fun watching you. I think you’d be crazy not to take that lady up on her offer for the Main Street locale.”

  “Mm,” she muttered, turning into the second bedroom.

  Thanks to the shirts Payton had brought him, changing for bed had not been another ordeal like that first night. Dressed in a worn out flannel button-down shirt and sweatpants, he looked at the scooter beside the bed. He’d really had enough of rolling around on that thing, but standing on his own two feet simply wasn’t an option, no matter how much the swelling had gone down. Maybe. He’d have to see how everything felt in the morning. Perhaps with this orthotic boot he could manage with the aid of a cane or walking stick.

  “You ready to hit the sack?” Lily popped her head in the doorway.

  “Not sleepy yet. Thought I’d hang out on the sofa and see what’s not on the TV.”

  Lily’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Two minutes ago I could barely hold myself up and now, well, I seem to have caught my second wind.”

  “You’re not going to keep baking, are you?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “What’s left can wait till tomorrow. Thank heaven it’s not a morning or lunchtime wedding.”

  Despite preferring to walk on his own steam, Cole shifted onto the scooter and waved for Lily to lead the way.

  By the time he made it to the sofa she was already prepping and pounding the cushions for him to recline.

  “Uh.” He cleared his throat. Funny how he suddenly felt like a nervous teen. “I’d rather just sit with my leg on the coffee table.”

  “Oh.” She stopped mid cushion-patting to look at the table.

  He cleared his throat again. “With you.”

  Her head snapped up and her gaze shot from him to the sofa and back before a small smile slowly appeared. “That would be nice.”

  Once she had him comfortably installed on the sofa, she insisted on making her specialty garlic parmesan popcorn before snuggling in beside him. This was nice. Very nice. He didn’t even care what was or wasn’t on TV. Leaning into his good side, she fit perfectly.

  “Oh, look.” She waved the remote at the TV. “Return To Me. I love that movie. Is this okay?”

  Not that they had much of a choice with the limited TV offerings, but even though he’d never heard of it, if she liked it that was good enough for him. “Sure.” By the time the dog on screen was at the door missing his favorite master, Cole had pegged it for the chick flick that it was, and that was perfectly fine with him. Everything about tonight was fine. Even when she fell asleep against him less than midway through the movie—that was fine. And the funny little squeak she made that some might call snoring, that was fine too.

  Despite his physical challenges, his life had never been more fine. Deep in his gut he knew he didn’t want to give this up. Brushing a loose lock of hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear, he let his thumb run down the side of her face. His angel. Gentle and strong, kind and tough, sweet and adventurous. Perfect. Definitely did not want to give this woman up. He wanted to watch old movies, fall asleep snuggled, help fix her bakery, encourage her dreams—be in her dreams.

  He almost laughed at himself. Until this week his life and career plans had been clear. Marriage and children were not for him. Excellence in firefighting depended on a clear head. On his ability to arrive on the scene and focus on one thing—saving the strangers inside. A wife and family would only be a distraction. There was no time in a deadly fire to worry about getting home for dinner, making it to the school play, or one day dancing at your daughter’s wedding. No, a clear head from a no-strings life was the cornerstone of his career. Until now.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Waking up in a man’s arms was not something Lily should let herself get used to. Definitely not a good idea. A terrible idea. Worst ever. Only a few more days and Cole would be heading home. But boy did she want to stay right here till the cows came home—especially with never having seen a cow anywhere near Lake Lawford.

  Exhaling a soft breath, she eased out of Cole’s grip and made her way to the bathroom. As quietly as possible, she showered, dressed, and shouldn’t have been so surprised to see Cole by the stove fixing breakfast.

  “It’s going to be another long day and you’ll need some protein to keep you going.”

  “Thanks.” She watched him flip the sides of the cooked egg over a cheese filled center. The omelet slid easily out of the pan onto the plate. “I’m impressed.”

  He set the dish down in front of her. “I’d be drummed out of the fire station if I couldn’t hold my own in the kitchen.”

  For just a brief moment, Lily allowed herself to consider how many other things he no doubt held his own at.

  “Drink this too. It’s good for you.” He set a glass of green frothy liquid in front of her.

  Instinctively she leaned back. “Do I want to know what’s in that?”

  “Good stuff.” He grinned and continued whisking another bowl of eggs.

  She eyed the drink suspiciously. After all, she’d seen all those green powder containers that had been on the counters. “I don’t suppose I could have a cup of coffee first?”

  He shook his head. “Nourishment first. Coffee second.”

  Not till he tipped his head toward the steaming pot behind him did she realize he’d made her coffee too. That would be another thing she could get used to. Someone else brewing coffee and making breakfast. No, not someone. Cole. The least she could do was taste the off-putting concoction. Pulling on her big girl panties—so to speak—her hand stretched forth, and closing her eyes, she took a hesitant swallow. Not what she’d expected. Holding the drink away from her, she examined the glass more closely. Nothing very informative. The drink was green. Waving it under her nose, she frowned. Definitely banana. “What is in this?”

  “Not bad, huh?” He slid his eggs onto a plate and scooted around the island to sit beside her.

  Smiling she took another long sip. “Not bad at all.”

  “Not everything that’s good for you has to taste bad.” Smiling, he stabbed at his eggs.

  “Fair enough, since not everything that’s supposedly bad for you tastes good either.” She chuckled, thinking about her grandmother’s efforts to make meringue cookies. The simplest recipe in the world for pure sugar overload, and yet somehow at her grandmother’s hand they always came out tasting like a doorstop.

  Cole dangled his fork mid air. “Bon appétit.”

  “Bon appétit,” she repeated, taking in a forkfu
l of her own. The eggs were fantastic. She’d never known anyone who could make them so thin without a crepe pan. “These are wonderful.”

  “Enjoy, because I have a feeling once we get back to Hart House, you’re not going to have any chance to eat again.”

  Wasn’t that the truth. She’d rather have everything delivered to the resort and out of her responsibility sooner than later. Shoveling down the final bite and swallowing the last sip, she stood and hurried the dishes to the sink. “I’ll let you know as soon as we’re done.”

  “No,” he scooted up beside her, “I’m coming too.” Before she could utter an objection, he raised his hand. “I’ll stay out of the way, but I’m coming.”

  She wouldn’t object. She wanted him there with her, if only for moral support. Nodding, she took a quick look around for anything she was forgetting.

  “Your phone.” He held out her pink case clad cell.

  “Oh. Thanks.” So immersed in bakery thoughts, she would have left the dumb thing on the counter.

  “You go on ahead. I’ll be over as soon as I get into some clean clothes.” He lightly touched her arm, handed her a travel mug of warm coffee, then followed her down the hall.

  Everything in her felt lighter. She could tell it was going to be one helluva day. Even the short walk to Hart House seemed quicker. She’d have sworn the big old house winked at her as she made her way up the front porch. Pounding feet came hurrying down the main stairs. Violet.

  “Didn’t expect you back so soon.” The porch door slammed behind her.

  “The new heating system is stuck in air conditioning mode. No one likes relaxing in an arctic blast.” The cousin who always managed to look like she’d just enjoyed a relaxing day at a beachfront spa frowned a long moment before plastering on a typical smile. “Why tough it out when I could be with my favorite cousins here. Notified all my clients, did a load of laundry, and drove back late last night.”

  “Well, if it isn’t one thing it’s another.”

  “The joys of living in an old building.” Violet’s smile twitched as she fell in step with Lily. “Grams filled me in on the situation and I’m here if you need more hands.”

  Along with not expecting to see Violet, Lily hadn’t expected to find all her sisters already up and waiting for her at the kitchen island. The second thing to hit her was the strong smell of coffee. Anxious to come over, she’d not taken a sip from the mug Cole had given her. “As soon as I finish this one,” she held up the cup, “I’ll take the rest intravenous.”

  “Get in line.” Callie took a long sip from the mug cradled in her hands.

  Sliding very slowly off the chair, Poppy took a few stiff steps before making her way to the counter with the coffee pot. “I think I’ve been run down by a steam roller.”

  Lucy winced tying her apron behind her. “I think I have muscles that have never been used before.”

  “How long were you guys working yesterday?” Violet asked.

  The sisters’ gazes bounced back and forth from one to the other before Callie finally said, “Long enough.”

  “And I suppose you guys didn’t stop often enough to stretch?” Violet said.

  “We didn’t stop at all.” Lucy refilled her coffee cup.

  Grams came through the doorway, her step not as light as usual.

  “You too?” Violet blew out a sigh. “What would you people do without me?”

  The array of surprised and horrified looks on all her family’s faces made Lily want to laugh. Violet could indeed be a little disconcerting at times, but she was right about one thing—life just wouldn’t be the same without her. Good family and now good…friend. What more could a girl ask for in life?

  ***

  Feeling so much better this morning, Cole was terribly tempted to ditch the sling and use only the walking boot to head across the way. Only two things stopped him. Deep inside he knew pushing too hard too early was never a good thing, but the key reason he would use the scooter and keep the sling had everything to do with the green-eyed redhead and not wanting to annoy or disappoint her. Another first for him. Other than his grandfather and parents, he didn’t much care what anyone else thought of him.

  Hart House sat perched near the top of Hart Land. Property that sloped gently down to the lake. A smattering of small rental and family cabins dotted the landscape in between. Built on a slope, several steps lead to the wraparound porch at the front but access from the rear of the house sat level to the ground, making it easy for him to roll onto the porch and up to the back door.

  Laughter and giggles carried from the kitchen, growing louder and clearer as he made his way to the door. Despite the heavy workload yesterday, that same laughter, giggles, and even teasing had abounded. He looked forward to another day with all these people.

  “That’s it,” a soft voice carried. “And again.”

  Cole pulled the door open, and getting better at maneuvering the scooter and juggling doors one handed, he crossed the threshold only to come to a full stop. He’d expected to see people bustling about, flour and powdered sugar covering things already. Someone by the oven, another at the counter, maybe even someone with their head in the fridge. Nothing in his time here with the Hart family prepared him for the sight in front of him.

  “Up, down, up, down. Atta girl.”

  Lily, her sisters, her mother, her grandmother and Lucy were scattered about the kitchen. Elbows pinned to their sides, palms parallel with their shoulders and facing skyward, they bobbed up and down like colorful pistons. The Oompa-Loompas from Willie Wonka’s chocolate factory had nothing on these ladies.

  Their ringleader—Violet. “Remember. Stand tall, like a string is pulling at the top of your head,” Violet’s voice practically sang.

  If the room full of women bending up and down at the knees was an unexpected sight, Violet stole the show. Hands flatly together above her head, one foot against the other knee fanning out like a chicken wing, Violet balanced on one foot. He couldn’t decide if she looked more like a prima ballerina. Or a cross between a Tibetan statue and a pink flamingo.

  Two dogs raced through the doorway and into the kitchen, both plopping their hind quarters on the floor. Seated, turning their heads from side to side, they took in the show. Yeah, Cole understood exactly how they felt.

  Hands clapped, and the General stood at the back door. “Picked up the van Sam is lending us. Let’s get this show on the road.” In a matter of seconds, bodies dispersed every which way.

  “We’ll load what’s in the fridge and dining room here first,” Lily waved an arm toward the back hall, “then hit the stash at the other cabins. Cindy, you and Poppy get started on the new stuff.”

  “How many trips do you think it will take?” Cindy reached for a couple of bottles on the island and pulled them toward her, unscrewing the caps.

  Lily stood by the fridge. “I haven’t seen the van but I’m sure more than one.”

  “Payton has a van he uses when doing handyman work. Shall I give him a call?” Cole liked the idea of having something more to contribute, than merely cheering them on.

  “Let’s see how the first load does and if we need it, you can call while I run it over. Don’t want the resort staff to botch any of the refrigerated items before the caterers get there.”

  “Like these?” Callie set a tray of creamy looking tiny tarts on the island.

  “Exactly.” Lily placed a second tray on the island beside them.

  Grinning like a cat with its fill of fresh cream, Lucy came out of the walk-in pantry. “This is so exciting. I’ve been waiting to try this thing out on some crèmes needing brulee.”

  “Try what?” Cindy spun in place to look at Lucy, and her eyes popped open wide.

  “No way.” Lily waved a hand. “The caterer is going to do that.”

  “Well pooh.” Lucy huffed. “Not that it matters. Dang thing is stuck.”

  Lucy continued to push on a large red button at the top of the small pastry torch and everythin
g in Cole had him ready to ditch the scooter, fly across the room, and yank the thing away from her.

  With a loud pair of barks, Sarge and Lady must have had the same thought. The two dogs bolted, paws scrambling underfoot against the slippery tile, and whizzed past Cindy.

  “Oh, hell.” Cindy lost her balance and the open bottle in her hands poured all over the floor. “What a me—”

  “Whoa!” Lucy cut her off. Taking a blind step back from the dogs, her foot on the fresh puddle went one way, her other foot the other, her arm flailed, and sure enough, the torch lit—the curtains.

  “Aah,” a very loud voice screamed, and from one side of the room Cole could see Fiona Hart running with a spray bottle in hand.

  “Where’s the fire extinguisher?” Already having quickly scanned the walls, Cole hadn’t spotted it. He needed to get the fire out before Mrs. Hart made matters worse if that bottle didn’t contain water.

  “The pantry!” multiple voices shouted.

  A blonde, a redhead, and a brunette collided at one side of the island. Three women screamed “I’ll get it” and practically knocked each other over before straightening, pointing at each other and screaming “go help Lucy” then, once again, crashing into each other on their way to the pantry.

  Normally Cole would have been at Lucy’s side helping her up, concerned with injuries, but there was no time for that or dealing with the frantic women bouncing off each other like a couple of rubber balls.

  “Everyone out!” the General ordered. Doing his best to help Lucy up without succumbing to the gooey mess on the floor, his wife almost skated past him and the gruff older man’s voice boomed “Out” again.

  Moving slower than he would have liked if he weren’t in an orthotic boot, Cole raced to the pantry, grabbed the extinguisher, and thanked the heavens it was a professional model and not a mini household kitchen variety.

  “Clear,” he shouted to Lily, batting at the rapidly burning curtains with one of Lucy’s full-length aprons. “Now,” he yelled louder, just as the apron lit up in flames. “Damn, it. Drop it.” Not able to wait, he pulled the pin and sprayed the curtains, the dishrag on the counter that had lit up, and to his relief, the apron she’d let fall from her hands.