“What can I do to help?”
“Nothing. It’s all done. I only need to lay it all out.” The three thick glass dishes with plastic lids, a set of proper cutlery, cloth napkins, and two Mason jars containing what looked like apple juice explained why the basket weighed so much. “I’ll leave the pie in the basket for now.”
She peeled back the lids to reveal the first two dishes contained a mix of salads, nicely presented on a bed of lettuce, while the third held bread rolls.
“Looks good.” He meant it.
“The vegetables are organic, fresh from the backyard. My neighbor, and her granddaughter who owns the house, had it all planted up before I arrived. You already know Maddie, of course.” Frowning at the table, she repositioned a few items. “There, that looks right. I’ll just take a few photos before we eat.”
The camera she pulled from her bag looked professional.
“Why not let me take the pictures, and then you’ll be in them, too?” Unusually, Meg hadn’t insisted he bring a photographer to the interview, instead suggesting he ask permission to use images from the blog.
He wanted at least one of the evasive Ms. Rose.
Samantha Rose’s cheeks pinked. “No, none of me. I hate having my photo taken. I won’t bother with photos today. It’s a habit I’ve gotten into. If something looks nice, I photograph it, in case I can use it in a website. I’m a web designer and using my own images means I produce unique pages for my clients.”
A plausible enough reason, but her breathy tone and the slightly hunted look in her blue eyes suggested she had other reasons to keep herself out of the photos.
His newshound instinct kicked all the way in. Not that he’d let his suspicions show.
Raising a hand, he stood back. With a month here, he’d get the photos he wanted some other time. “Take as long as you need. I can wait to eat. Breakfast this morning was twice what I’d have at home.”
Her musical chuckle sounded again. “Maddie enjoys looking after her guests. I loved the welcome they gave me — two days’ worth of home-cooked meals, to tide me over till we’d settled in.”
He nodded and let her get on with her photos. Food was one thing, but after a few days, all the sweetness and light from his hosts would become cloying.
The shots she took weren’t just snapshots. Not with the way she carefully framed and adjusted things. Then she smiled. “There, done! Now we can sit.”
Once they were both seated, she spread her napkin in her lap then gazed at him expectantly. What did she want?
“Will you give thanks, or shall I?” she asked when the silence stretched uncomfortably long.
Give thanks? He hadn’t done that for years and had no idea what he’d say to God if he did. “Uh, how about we each give thanks silently?”
She quirked her lips to one side and raised an eyebrow. “Okay.”
Instead of praying, he watched her bow her head. Another Christian. He’d figured that already from her blog, with its scattering of Bible verses and mentions of God. If Meg sent him here in the hope he’d regain his lost faith and magically turn into some happy-clappy seeing the best in everyone, she’d be disappointed.
Years of exposure to the seedy underbelly of human nature taught him to be cynical.
Not to mention, his father. People who called themselves Christians could be the worst hypocrites of all, as if playing the God card gave a get-out-of-jail-free pass.
Even Samantha Rose, sweet as she seemed, hid a secret she didn’t want discovered. Somehow, somewhere, she’d lied to the public. His earlier suspicions hardened into certainty.
He was here to uncover her lie. And then, let everyone know.
Chapter 3
Sam breathed a silent, grateful prayer. So far, the picnic had progressed well.
She’d almost died of fright when Maddie called Daniel’s name at the store, warning her he was there. The last thing she wanted was him seeing her buying supplies to window dress the cottage for his arrival. That near-miss meeting made her even more determined everything had to be perfect.
Seeing how good-looking he was may have had the teeniest bit to do with it.
Rushing home to do a Google search and uncovering the sort of reporting he did had a lot to do with it.
Something in his eyes when she opened the door told her he recognized her from the store. Too much to hope he wouldn’t.
But so far, the interview hadn’t fazed her the way she’d expected. No difficult questions yet. Not that she’d lie if he did, but thankfully, she’d been able to answer everything without too much maneuvering around the truth.
Okay, the occasional slight omissions, like not admitting Liz and Maddie continued to provide their meals, at a far lower cost than her buying the ingredients at the store and then ruining them.
Omitting a little of the truth wasn’t nearly as bad as lying.
She hoped God would forgive her if it was.
At least, Daniel gave every indication of savoring his lunch. Nerves killed her appetite, but she made herself eat enough to know Liz excelled herself with the wonderful salads she’d prepared. That gift freed Sam to focus on bringing as much order as she could to the house.
Maybe enough order to pass herself off as a real homemaker, not the domestic disaster she truly was.
After forking up his final mouthful of the tomato and basil salad, Daniel chewed slowly with an appreciative gleam in his blue eyes. “Hmm, this is good. Simple, but the flavors blend so well. Mind if I use some bread to mop up the juices? Seems a shame to waste them.”
“Of course, go ahead.” She grinned. “I always do. I have the recipe written down at home, if you’d like to share it with your readers.” It was the one thing she’d learned from Liz simple enough to prepare herself, though hers never looked nearly as pretty.
He nodded, unable to speak as he crunched on a piece of juice-soaked crusty roll. “Please. I’ll share it with my local deli, too, and hope they’ll make it for me rather than get insulted. That truly was amazing.”
Her cheeks heated, a sure sign she’d be blushing. Hopefully, he wouldn’t guess the reason his compliments embarrassed her so much. “It’s the homegrown tomatoes that make the difference. My neighbors grow them, using a greenhouse to start them early since the season here is so short.”
“Tomatoes aside, the whole meal was wonderful. Where did you learn to cook so well?”
Of course, back to the interview. She’d almost forgotten, enjoying their picnic in the sunshine as if Daniel was no more than a friendly and appealing single man she’d met at church or work and wanted to impress.
At least, she assumed he was single. He didn’t wear a ring, and her internet search hadn’t mentioned a wife.
Though maybe thinking of him as an attractive single guy wasn’t the best idea. The rare occasions she dated, she always became tongue-tied. And now he’d asked one of those difficult questions she’d hoped to avoid.
“My mother is a superb cook. She worked hard to teach her daughters all she knows.” Almost true, but sailing uncomfortably close to a lie. Mom worked hard trying to teach her. And failed.
Rather than meet his intense inquiring gaze, she stared out over the lake to the blue-tinged mountains. A Bible verse popped into her mind. I lift up my eyes to the mountains — where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord.…
Lord, I surely need Your help now. Please help me to stay honest, without being so honest Daniel writes a terrible article. For the girls’ sake?
“My sister is a far better cook than I am,” she added.
“She must be excellent.” No obvious suspicion in his voice. She risked a peek at him to check if any gleamed in his intent clear eyes. Not that she could see.
Phew!
“She definitely is.” That, she could be completely honest about. “If you’ve finished your salad, would you like some pie? I thought you’d enjoy trying the recipe the travel writer linked to. No cream, I’m afraid.” Busying herself e
asing the covered dishes from the basket gave her something to do.
“I had huckleberry pie at the café last night.” He smiled. “But I’m more than happy to eat another piece.”
Sam placed a dish holding a single slice in front of him. Dear Liz had thought of everything.
After scooping a spoonful, he examined it. “This looks exactly like the pie at the café. So you bake for them?”
Oops, another of those pesky questions. She dropped her napkin in surprise. At least having to stoop for it might explain away her renewed blush.
Somehow, she managed a smile. “Not me. Maddie uses the same recipe.”
He threw her a sharp glance, eyebrow raised.
Perhaps she should tell him more of the truth. That would salve her conscience, a lot. Willing her racing heart to slow, she pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m actually embarrassed at the fuss about my blog. It makes me feel a fraud. I didn’t create the recipe, and I’ve never claimed I did. It’s a traditional regional recipe, perfected by my lovely neighbor.”
She’d have to keep talking, stop him asking more questions. Though if she kept babbling, she’d soon be spilling everything and telling him her entire blog was a big implied falsehood.
That would salve her conscience, sure. And probably wreck the rest of the summer for the twins.
“Liz’s family has lived in this area and cooked with huckleberries for generations. I’m not sure if you know that they only grow wild in a few mountain areas in the Northwest? No one has managed to cultivate them successfully and keep the same taste.”
The geography lesson Hiram gave the first time he ambled through the gate between the houses bearing three big slices of Liz’s pie came in handy.
Daniel had his mouth open to say something, when a shout interrupted.
“Bear! Bear!”
Liz’s voice. Please, no! An actual bear?
She’d been warned they came into town sometimes to scavenge for food. Liz’s pie would taste just as good to a brown bear as it did for a human.
Far more likely, the Bear Liz called was that four-legged canine accident looking for a place to happen the girls adored. Though Bear was supposed to be kept in the yard today, not brought to the lake. Sam swiveled in her seat.
Just in time to see the huge black dog bound straight past her and jump up to plant two very muddy front paws on Daniel’s pristine, white linen shirt, before licking his face enthusiastically. As he did, his long wagging tail swept across the table, right into the remainder of Daniel’s pie. He completely ignored all attempts to push him away.
“Bear, down,” she ordered firmly. Well, as firmly as she could when halfway between hysterical laughter and tears.
To her astonishment, the unruly dog obeyed for once, lying at Daniel’s feet blissfully panting up at him.
“I guess I should be grateful it wasn’t a real bear.” Daniel’s dry voice and raised eyebrow suggested he wasn’t exactly impressed, but trying to see the funny side.
She couldn’t. Not yet, anyway.
Maybe once the mortification flaming her cheeks and making her wish she could close her eyes and disappear passed, she might.
Leaping from her seat, she babbled apologies and dabbed ineffectually at his ruined shirt with her napkin. Mud caked the lap of his chinos, too, but she wasn’t about to try dabbing there. “I’m so sorry. Bear is usually a little better behaved around new people. I have no idea what got into him.”
“My irresistible animal magnetism?” Daniel’s wry self-deprecating smile showed he was joking.
“Must be.” Her words emerged weakly. Truly, he was the most attractive man she’d met for ages, but what he thought of her, she couldn’t guess. She doubted it was good. Abandoning her fruitless attempt to mop up the mud, she slumped into her chair.
So much for her efforts to make a good impression.
Slower than their dog, the twins rushed up. Liz followed, a way behind them.
“We’re sorry, Auntie Sam,” Emily said. Older by twenty minutes, she always spoke first, usually the best way to guess which twin was which. “I know you told us Bear had to stay in the yard. We didn’t mean to be naughty. We just wanted to see your picnic.”
“Bear was a bad dog. He ran away to chase the ducks, then rolled in the mud,” Rose added. Her slight lisp turned “ran” into “wan” and “rolled” into “wolled”, the other main difference between the girls. If they switched roles, she’d have trouble telling them apart.
“It’s okay, girls. It wasn’t your fault.” Their unruly dog just wrecked the interview, but she wouldn’t make them feel bad about it the way Nancy might. As if Daniel wasn’t covered in mud, she made the introductions. “Daniel, meet my nieces, Emily and Rose.”
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Emily.” Very serious, she stuck out her small hand for Daniel to shake. “I’m sorry Bear messed your clothes and your pie.”
“I’m Rose. And I’m sorry, too.” The other twin extended a grubby paw.
Thankfully, Daniel responded kindly. Smiling, he shook first Emily’s hand, then Rose’s. “I’m pleased to meet you both. I’m Daniel.”
“Like Daniel in the Bible?” Emily asked. “The one the lions didn’t eat?”
He smiled. “Not the same Daniel. The only lions where I live are in the zoo. But yes, the same name.”
Sam jumped up. The sooner they put this disaster behind them, the better. “Girls, we need to tidy everything away and let Daniel go back to the store to change his clothes. And we need to get Bear safely shut away in our yard again.”
As she piled the dishes into the basket, Liz limped up to them, a little breathless and with a more apparent limp than usual. Remorse flooded Sam, taking her mind off the picnic disaster. Minding the girls on top of all that cooking clearly exhausted Liz.
“And now you get to meet my wonderful neighbor, Liz Patterson. Liz, this is Daniel Novak.”
The older woman’s head turned, scanning from the wreckage of the pie on the table to the wreckage of Daniel’s outfit. “Oh dear. I’m so sorry we spoiled your lunch and your clothes. It was a wretched duck, flying out of the reeds right in front of us.” She held up Bear’s collar and leash. “He slipped his collar to chase it.”
Daniel’s smile widened. Of course, no one could fail to be charmed by Liz. “So, Liz, I gather you’re the real creator of the famous pie recipe?”
Liz threw her a questioning glance. Sam gave a tiny, helpless shrug. Impossible to communicate exactly how much she’d told Daniel.
“I do wish we hadn’t met like this. I should never have let the girls cajole me into bringing Bear with us to the lake.” Liz sidestepped the question.
“No harm done,” Daniel assured her. “My clothes will wash. Presumably, mud is part of the country experience my editor sent me here for.”
Sam’s stomach turned a somersault. That sounded very much like all this would go into his article.
Before she could find words to ask him to give her another chance, Liz chimed in. “If you want to see mud, come back in the spring after the thaw. That’s mud season. Now, as I’m responsible, it’s my job to fix the damage to your clothes. Let me wash and iron them for you. Come home with us, and I’ll lend you something of my husband’s to change into.”
“No need to feel bad over it.” Daniel bent to pat Bear’s head. Really, he’d taken the whole debacle surprisingly well. “I’m sure there are laundry facilities at the store.”
Sam stayed silent and finished packing the basket. She should insist she be the one to launder his shirt and chinos. Loading the washing machine and moving stuff to the dryer, she could do. But if he saw her pathetic ironing attempts, he’d guess straight away she was faking it.
“Please, humor this old lady,” Liz insisted. “Once you change clothes, you two can finish your interview at the house. And haven’t you got the rest of that pie in your refrigerator, Sam? Seems a shame to miss that.”
“Um, yes?” She didn’t sound too convincing, and
Daniel’s swift glance told her he’d noticed. If her fridge contained pie, Liz must have put it there.
“I’m sure I saw it there. And a bowl of whipped cream.” Liz confirmed Sam’s guess. Directing her sweet grandmotherly smile to Daniel full-force, she spread her wrinkled age-spotted hands. “When we’re offering a bribe like that, how can you refuse?”
“I can’t. I’d love more pie. Though I do insist on going to the store first, to change. Then I’ll come back.”
Sam would be fascinated by his delightful grin, if apprehension about him coming back to the house again didn’t have her in jitters.
All she could do was trust God. No matter what, His will would be done.
Liz nodded. “That’s a fair compromise. But please promise to bring those muddy clothes with you and allow me to wash them.”
“If it will salve your conscience, I’ll think about it.” He turned to Sam. “Ms. Rose, will you be okay to carry the basket back? If you are, I’ll go now and be back at your house in say, thirty minutes?”
Liz wasn’t the one whose conscience needed salving. And why wouldn’t the man at least call her Sam?
“That will be fine.” She forced her lips to stretch in something passing as a smile. Daniel in the cottage, way longer than she’d planned for. Just what she didn’t want.
Not that much else had gone to plan.
Still, it gave her a second chance. Pie, cookies, and coffee while they finished the interview. Even she could switch on the coffeemaker and dollop whipped cream on a slice of pie.
Couldn’t she?
Liz stared after Daniel’s retreating back. “Fine-looking man. Good manners, too. And Maddie tells me he’s booked in for an extended visit. Maybe you two will get to see more of each other.”
A mischievous gleam danced in her bright eyes.
Matchmaking.
Emily’s gleeful caper didn’t help. “Yes. I want to see more of Daniel, too. He’s a nice man. He likes Bear. I can show him my Barbies.”
Sam closed her eyes without replying. She didn’t dare ask how extended a stay he planned. The longer Daniel stayed, the harder it would become to keep up the pretense. Especially when they’d gotten off to such a bad start.
Come to the Lake Page 15