Jonathan shrugged. “If she had a problem with it, I guess she’d tell us. I haven’t heard any protests.”
“That’s just the point. She hasn’t said anything at all.”
Jilly cleared her scratchy throat and looked up at Walker. She was fascinated by his veiled expression and the sense of intensity and quiet control. Jilly wondered what it would take to pry away those barriers that always seemed in place.
The thought was dangerously appealing.
“No—I mean, it’s fine. Pull out a chair and join me. Please. I’m here alone.” Winslow nuzzled her leg, nosing around for more hidden jerky treats. “I’m sorry, honey, but all the treats are gone. Maybe Red can drum something up for you. Why don’t I go ask—”
“Stay right where you are. I’ll go find Red.” Jonathan shot to his feet.
“Sure we aren’t intruding?” Walker said quietly.
Jilly worked at sounding calm. “Not at all. I was just trying to pick out what I wanted for dessert. Unfortunately, I want everything.” She realized that Walker was still watching her thoughtfully. “Well, go on. Sit down and order something. Gluttony loves company.”
Walker slid into the chair beside her, then patted his leg. Instantly Winslow settled on the floor at his feet, calm and quiet despite the bustle and noise around them.
Jilly passed Walker a dessert menu. “People tell me that Red’s chocolate selections are out of this world.”
“They are. I’ve eaten here before.” Walker scanned the menu, idly scratching Winslow’s head. “I lived up here for a while before my cabin was finished, so I know how good Red’s food is.”
“So how long have you been in Lost Creek?”
“Almost two years.” Walker shook his head. “Doesn’t seem that long. I’ve still got a lot of work to do on the cabin. It’s been in my family for years, and things were run down.”
Another clue, Jilly thought. “So you’re originally from this area?”
“My mother’s grandfather was. She moved east as a girl.”
“And you decided to go all Mountain Man here in Wyoming? Back to the land and all that?”
Walker’s lips curved a little. “Not exactly.”
“But your family has a tradition here. Ranching? Farming?”
“Not exactly,” Walker repeated dryly. “We were never big on ranching.”
“Walker? Is that you?” A frail woman in navy slacks and a bright red sweater crossed to the table and frowned at him, hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you come and say hello? It’s been almost three months now.”
Walker stood up and took the elderly woman’s hand, squeezing it carefully. “Sorry, Mamie. I’ve been busy. First with work on the cabin. Then Winslow and I had some work out of town,” he said quietly.
“And how is my favorite dog doing?” Mamie leaned over to scratch Winslow’s head. When Walker spoke quietly, the dog rolled over, legs up in the air. Playing dead.
Mamie laughed and rubbed Winslow’s soft stomach. “You’re still a big ham, aren’t you?” Mamie shot a measuring look at Walker. “Your job out of town went okay? No…problems?”
“Everything was fine. You should sit down, Mamie.” Walker pulled out the chair next to Jilly. “Have you two met?”
“Not yet. And there is no need to go pulling out chairs and offering me your arm. I had a heart attack, sure, but I’m fine now. I hate people hovering. I’m old, but not feeble,” the woman said fiercely.
Jilly liked the woman’s directness. There was a nice glow in her cheeks, but she didn’t look completely solid on her feet. One hand shook a little as she balanced it on the back of the chair.
“I wouldn’t dream of calling you feeble, Mamie. You’re still the most powerful person around. You lift one finger and heads roll,” Walker said. “Everybody knows that.”
“No flattery, either, young man.” Mamie sat down slowly and studied Jilly. “I’d be delighted to meet your friend, Walker.”
“Mamie Bridger, meet Jilly O’Hara. She’s here for your knitting retreat. Jilly, Mamie owns the resort. She’s the one to see if you have any complaints.”
“Damned straight. You come right to me with any problems, Jilly.”
“Nothing so far. It’s lovely here, Mamie. Everyone has been wonderful.”
The small woman looked pleased. “That’s what I like to hear from our guests. Better than all the blood-pressure medication in the world.” She glanced at their menus. “Have you ordered yet? Red’s got some real crowd-pleasers there.”
“We were just getting around to it. Jonathan went off to the kitchen a few minutes ago.”
“Figures. That boy has always been cooking crazy. And whatever you order is free tonight. You never did let me pay you for all the work you did on Red’s new oven and walk-in freezer, Walker.”
“I’d say room and board was a fair enough payment,” Walker said quietly. He frowned a little. It was clear that he didn’t want to pursue the subject.
Mamie smiled at Jilly. “So are you from Wyoming, Jilly? Do you ski? Our winters are one step short of paradise.”
“No, I never learned. And I’m from Oregon.”
“Never too late to start. A healthy young woman like you would be doing moguls in an afternoon.”
“I doubt that. But your resort must be magical in the winter.”
“So I’ve been told. We work hard at it. The weather doesn’t always make it easy.” She frowned. “It doesn’t help when people don’t keep to their plans, either.”
“Is something wrong, Mamie?”
“I had some bad news earlier. We had a big wedding scheduled this weekend, but now it’s off.”
“Something happened?”
“The bride changed her mind. And the groom ran off with a bridesmaid.” Mamie blew out a short breath. “I guess I like to believe in happy endings. I like when people do what they say they’ll do.” She sighed. “Probably that makes me a dinosaur.” She nodded at Jilly. “You must be the woman who was helping Jonathan at the shop today. I hear you brew a mean cappuccino.”
“I think that story must get more exaggerated every time it’s told,” Jilly murmured. “It was fun to help out.”
“My grandson can use all the help he can get. He’s got passion and grit, but he’s not always very organized.”
“Jonathan is your grandson? I didn’t know.” Jilly considered this information. “He’s got the beginnings of a wonderful shop there. With a little more experience he’ll be able to compete with anyone.”
“I hope so.” A cloud crossed Mamie’s face. Then she smiled as Jonathan appeared, carrying a metal bowl filled with water for Winslow.
“Hey, Grandma. You look great. Not working too hard, are you? You promised.”
“I can rest when I’m dead, and that won’t be for a long time yet, God willing. Now sit down and tell me all the things this nice young lady taught you today at the shop.”
“No secrets in this town,” Jonathan muttered. “Jilly walked me through some ways to improve my coffee settings. We worked on brewing and frothing techniques, too. She’s got a great hand, Grandma. If you don’t believe me, ask Walker.”
Mamie smiled slowly. “What do you say, Walker? Is Jilly that good? If so, maybe we should find a way to keep her here.”
Walker started to answer, then frowned as Winslow sat up slowly, growling low in his throat. “What is it, Win? What’s wrong?”
The dog gave a low bark then raised his head, sniffing the air. Walker looked around the crowded room.
As far as Jilly could tell, nothing was wrong. Staff were carrying platters. Tables were full of diners laughing and talking, enjoying their food.
But Winslow was restless, sniffing the air and looking up at Walker.
Walker stood up. “Jonathan, why don’t you stay here with Mamie and Jilly? Win and I are going to have a look around.”
“But—”
Suddenly an alarm began to clang. All the talking stopped. Jilly glanced toward the kitc
hen and saw a dark cloud of smoke billow through the door. A waitress appeared, waving and looking distraught.
“Jonathan.” Walker’s voice was calm and very controlled, but the tone of command was unmistakable. “Take Jilly and Mamie outside. Now.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
JONATHAN HELD OUT HIS arm to Mamie. “Come on, Grandma.”
“But that’s smoke.” Mamie’s face was pale, strained. “I have to—”
“Grandma, you heard Walker. We’re going outside. You, too, Jilly.”
At the nearest table, a frightened mother with two young children was trying to gather up her bag, bottles and a folded stroller.
Walker put a hand on Jilly’s arm. “Jilly, why don’t you help her outside? Her children look pretty frightened.”
“Of course.” Jilly glanced back at the growing cloud of smoke. “You’d better hurry.” Her hand met his and she squeezed hard. “Be careful.”
He nodded, touched Winslow’s collar and walked away, stopping to point several anxious diners in the direction of the nearest exit.
Jilly quickly crossed to the lady juggling two crying children. “Can I help you with the stroller? You look like your hands are full.”
“Oh, yes, please. My children are so upset by that siren.” She shot an anxious glance back toward the kitchen. “So am I.”
Diners poured toward the door, where they jostled and shoved to be the first outside. Jilly was proud of Jonathan as he stepped into the fray, holding Mamie’s arm while he spoke calmly, directing people out in threes until the jostling ended.
A harried man raced up to Jilly, holding a baby in his arms. “What happened? Are the kids okay?”
“We’re fine.” The mother gestured toward Jilly. “Take the stroller, Dave. I need to get the kids outside and calm them down.”
“Okay, honey.” He swung the baby against his shoulder and took his wife’s bag and the stroller from Jilly. “Thanks for the help. I’ll take it from here.”
When Jilly looked around, Jonathan and Mamie had vanished. There were only a dozen people left at the doorway.
Walker was talking on a cell phone at the kitchen. Then a billowing wave of smoke cut him off from view.
Jilly hesitated. As a chef, she was familiar with kitchen accidents. She knew how to handle a fire as an outsider would not. And her decision was made in that second. She moved quickly toward the door, only to find her way blocked by a waiter in a resort uniform.
“Ma’am, you need to leave the building. We have an emergency in the kitchen.”
“It’s okay. Mamie sent me. I’m going to help Walker. Is it a grease fire?”
Jilly already knew the answer. Close to the kitchen the smell of acrid oil drifted out with every wave of smoke.
“Yeah. It’s bad in there. You can’t see for all the smoke and we can’t find the fire extinguisher. Someone’s gotten badly burned.”
Jilly bit back questions, focused on the fastest way to tame a grease fire. Inexperienced workers usually went for water, which was the worst thing to do, sending boiling oil up in an explosion that would sear anyone in close range. And a grease fire could spread fast.
The answer was a fire extinguisher. Since that wasn’t available…
She opened the door and immediately her eyes began to burn. She heard someone groaning and saw open flames near the far end of the kitchen. Red was digging in a nearby drawer, while giving orders to the staff nearby.
Walker was trying to wrestle a fire extinguisher from its hanger on the far wall, but it appeared to be stuck.
Jilly scanned the cooking area, saw a cast iron pot and grabbed the heavy lid. “Red, use this.” When the worried cook turned, Jilly put the lid on the floor and shoved it hard over the tiles. Red dropped the cast iron lid on the smoking unit, and she heard the hiss of hot oil. Then the flames vanished.
“Stay back, everybody,” Red called. “Any luck with that extinguisher, Walker?”
A metal bar pulled apart and crashed to the ground as Walker tugged the extinguisher free from its frame. “Right here. Let me get that oil.”
But the flames were gone and no more smoke rose from the deep fat fryer. Walker kept his post watchfully just in case, while Red went to help the two wounded workers, who were hunched over the counter, clutching their arms.
“Ambulance is on its way,” Red said. “I don’t want to put anything on the burns until the medics arrive. Here’s a chair, Nan. Sit down before you fall down.” The siren stopped abruptly. “Thank heaven for that.”
“It hurts like hell. I don’t know what happened, Red.” The cook’s voice shook. “One second it was fine, and the next thing I knew the whole unit was on fire.”
“We’ll have it completely checked,” Red said grimly. “Last week there was a short in the back refrigerator. Maybe it’s the wiring. It’s been too long since we’ve had this area overhauled.” Red glanced back at Walker. “Everything okay over there?”
“Looks good. But I’m not moving.”
The smoke was almost gone now and Jilly could see clearly. There were gray smudges on the back wall and burned oil stains on the surrounding steel counters.
But it could have been far worse, Jilly knew. She walked past Walker to examine the fire extinguisher housing. The metal frame had separated and half lay on the floor. Jilly picked up a twisted screw, studying it carefully.
“Rusted through. Maybe you had a water leak or the sprayers went off back here in the past. It looks like this piece got torqued out of alignment, so the unit wouldn’t release when you needed it.” She held out the screw to Walker. “In my restaurant I have the frames replaced every year.” Jilly felt a pang at the thought that she would never have that kind of responsibility again.
“Good tip,” Red said grimly. “I wish I’d started doing that sooner.” He looked out the window as the wail of sirens filled the air. “Thank heavens.” He hovered near the burned workers. “They’ll take good care of you. And you’ll get full pay while you recover. You have my word on that.”
A team of booted and uniformed firemen burst in from the back, followed closely by three EMS techs.
“Over here,” Red called. “The fire was in the deep fat fryer. It seems to be controlled. We’ve got a lid on it, and an extinguisher ready if needed. We have two burned workers who need attention here, too.”
Jilly backed out of the way of the emergency teams, who worked swiftly, assessing the fire and enclosing the fryer unit while the medics helped the burned workers.
She blinked as the floor spun and she put a hand against the wall, fighting a wave of dizziness. Her heart seemed to drum in her ears.
“Are you okay?”
Jilly felt a hand on her arm. Her heartbeat was getting louder, and the room was a little blurry. “Um, I’m not sure.”
The grip on her arm tightened. There was a comfort in the strength of that touch, Jilly thought dimly. And that was very odd, because normally she hated being touched by people she didn’t know well.
She blinked as Walker guided her a few feet forward and nudged her into a chair. “Sit. I want one of the EMS workers to check you out. Your face is white and you’re breathing too fast.”
He didn’t wait for her to argue, simply motioning to the last of the med-techs, who trotted across the room.
“Need any help over here?”
“No.” Jilly’s voice was raw.
Walker just looked at her and frowned. “Yes, we do. My friend looks a little faint. Maybe you could run a test on her vitals.”
“Can do.”
Jilly opened her mouth to protest that she was just fine, maybe a little tired, but the fierce look in Walker’s eyes cut her off. Then she realized her hands were shaking.
The tech moved smoothly, taking her blood pressure, pulse and temperature. Walker waited in silence, one shoulder against the wall, his gaze never leaving her face. Jilly was surprised at just how comforting it was to have him nearby. He didn’t say much, but clearly he was a man
who could be counted on. And she liked counting on him.
And when in the world had that begun?
The tech put away his stethoscope with a snap. “Okay, BP a little elevated. Ditto for pulse. But it’s nothing unusual, given a stressful event of this type. No signs of coughing or smoke inhalation. No burns, right, ma’am?”
Jilly shook her head. Her throat felt dry. “I am a little thirsty.”
“Probably part of the problem, ma’am. You need to drink a whole lot of water today. And take it easy. No hiking or strenuous athletics. Any heart problems? Emphysema?”
Jilly just stared at him. She wasn’t going to blurt out her whole medical history, not like this. As long as her pulse and vital signs were within expected range, there was no reason to make a big deal about this. “Nothing to speak of. Stressful life. Some bad working habits and too much caffeine. That’s about it.”
The tech nodded, grinning. “Tell me about it. There’s a whole lot of that going around. Probably everything’s fine. On the other hand, if your symptoms continue, or if they get worse—dizziness, nausea, any sudden chest or stomach pain—get yourself to an E.R. Better to be cautious.” He nodded at Walker and then trotted off to join the last of his crew, who were pushing a gurney toward the side entrance, where an ambulance waited.
Jilly stood up carefully and smiled at Walker. “See? Everything’s fine. I’m probably just dehydrated.”
He didn’t look convinced. “You’re pale, Jilly. And your hands are still shaking. I don’t like it.”
“I don’t like it, either, believe me. But I get this way sometimes when I get stirred up. It takes me a long time to relax. Once we had a robbery at the restaurant. I was swinging from the rafters for twenty-four hours after that.”
Walker frowned. “Were you hurt?”
Jilly blinked at the rough emotion in his voice. “Only in the checkbook. He cleaned out the register, and it was a Saturday night, our biggest night of the month. The jerk probably knew that. We thought it might have been an inside job. But no one was hurt, thank goodness. He had a knife but he didn’t use it.”
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