by Jillian Hart
“Well then, you gotta hurry.” He grinned at her through the rolled-down window. “Cuz I’m hungry. What do ya got for me? Cupcakes?”
“Nope. Nothing but cold ashes for you.”
“You can’t eat ashes!” Westin laughed. “C’mon, Sally. Aunt Rachel probably’s got cupcakes on the counter. You can have the first pick.”
“Good boy.” Rachel poked him in the stomach, just to hear him laugh again. Then she rummaged around for her purse, wherever it had gone to. “Sally, go ahead with Westin. I know I put it in here somewhere. Have you seen my purse?”
“Nope.” Sally released her seat belt and dropped to her knees in the small space between the seat and the glove box. She looked under the seat. “It’s not here.”
“Thanks, I know it’s here somewhere. I hope.” This was what happened when she had tried to learn the modern torture known as bookkeeping. “I’ll find it later. What I need more than my purse is chocolate. How about you?”
“’Kay.” Sally managed a small smile. “Uncle Jake likes chocolate, too.”
“Then we’ll wrap up a few for you to take with you. Deal?”
“Deal!”
“Then let’s go. Westin looks like he’s gonna pop like a balloon if he has to wait another second for us.” Rachel climbed out of the car, then ducked back in to grab her keys. Her nephew was holding the garage door, but was hopping up and down in place. “Why, thank you, sir. You’re such a gentleman.”
“My new dad says a man treats ladies real nice. Holdin’ doors and stuff.”
“A good man, your new dad, and you, too.” Rachel waited for Sally and laid a hand on her shoulder to guide her through the doorway.
The girl was such a small thing, more shadow than substance, that Rachel’s heart gave a hard wrench. She was clearly worried about something happening to Jake and being left alone again. Well, maybe I can make the next few hours a little easier for the child to get through.
“How about some chocolate milk to go with those cupcakes?” Rachel tossed her keys on the counter. Sunlight streaming through the windows made the kitchen cheerful and toasty and welcomed them over to the table. “Sally—” she gestured toward the chairs, “Go ahead and sit. Westin, grab the napkin holder for me, would you?”
“Can I have two cupcakes, no, three?”
The phone rang, saving her from answering. Westin already knew her answer—could she ever say no?—and she ruffled his head as she skirted past him to grab the receiver. “You guys decide if you wanna play a board game or go outside when you’re done. Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me.” Her brother’s voice warmed the line. “Got a question for you.”
“First I’ve got one for you. Are you going to make sure your parachute is packed right before you jump?”
“Here, I’ll let Jake answer that, since he’s listening in.”
There was the sound of male voices, a crackling sound as the phone was handed over, and Rachel didn’t have time to swallow her panic before Jake’s confident voice rang in her ear.
“I’m as safe as can be. We’re about to go up, but I wanted to give you time to think about this.” Jake’s words dipped low and serious.
Rachel felt the impact deep in her soul. See how he affected her? No man had ever done this to her. How was she going to act normally, now? “What exactly are you going to ask?”
“Ben said he could use help moving on Wednesday, and since that’s two days away, I can switch our flights, no problem, and stick around to help. But seeing as I don’t make the big bucks, Ben suggested Sal and I could stay in the apartment. I wanted to make sure that was okay with you first. Say no if you’re uncomfortable with a single old bachelor like me hanging around your house.”
“The apartment’s over the diner. Did Ben tell you that?”
“Ah, no, he didn’t. Then I guess I ought to be calling your oldest sister. Isn’t she in charge of the diner?’
“I’m taking over, and trust me, she won’t mind if you stay. Ben could use the help, I know, it’ll make this easier on him. And this way I get to spend more time with Sally.”
Jake didn’t miss the genuine affection in Rachel’s words. He could just imagine her in that house of hers meant for a family, she was probably in the kitchen. Yep, he could hear the clink of dishes. The refrigerator door opened and his mind flashed back to the evening spent in her home in her company, and his world stopped spinning. Everything within him stilled. The back of his neck tingling like it did right before things got hot on a mission.
Except there was no danger, no enemies, no imminent ambush, no unseen threat. Just the pulse of his heartbeat and a strange stillness in the deepest part of him. It was as if God was letting him know that this woman was significant.
It was probably because Sally needed so much right now. Rachel, who’d known the same loss, maybe had the kindness to help Sally a little. Sure, his conscience scolded him, but Sally would be the only reason, right?
Right, he wanted to say. But he knew that was wrong. Sally wasn’t the only reason. Jake didn’t want to think about what that meant as Ben called out to him. The pilot and plane were ready and waiting. He said goodbye, hung up and took off down the tarmac, determined to keep nothing but blue skies on his mind.
Rachel heard the kitchen door open. The sound of boots hitting the floor told her two people were coming her way. She slid the dice across the coffee table to Westin as she rose from the floor. Ignoring the snap in her knee and the creak in her lower back, she ambled around the sectional, expecting to see Jake.
It wasn’t Jake who strode into sight, but Amy and her handsome new husband. Heath did not look happy, and Amy appeared flushed either from upset or from a disagreement, Rachel couldn’t tell which. But it couldn’t bode well.
“What’s up, guys?” Rachel left the excitement of the board game behind, knowing the kids were well occupied, and headed for the cupboards. “You look like you need chocolate.”
“Chocolate’s a start.” Amy collapsed on the nearest chair. “No, please tell me these aren’t your secret-recipe cupcakes because I can’t eat just one. Heath, world wars could start over these, they’re so good.”
“The secret’s in the filling.” Rachel handed down two dessert plates. “Go ahead. Take as many as you want. They’re only good when they’re fresh. Want soda or chocolate milk to go with?”
“You shouldn’t be waiting on us.” Amy had dropped her purse, shrugged out of her coat and was unwrapping the paper from a cupcake. Chocolate crumbs tumbled everywhere. “But I love ya for it. We just looked at another house we couldn’t afford.”
“It wasn’t affording the actual house,” Heath added as he took a cake. “It was figuring out how to pay for the repairs it needed just to make it halfway livable.”
“It’s a tight market.” Amy bit into her cupcake with a moan. She slumped against the chair back as she chewed. The chocolate seemed to be doing the trick. Amy already looked five times more relaxed.
“This is great, Rachel.” Heath said around a bite of the crumbly goodness. “I feel better already.”
Rachel poured two cups of cold milk and grabbed the chocolate syrup. With a few long squirts and a brief stint in the microwave, she had two cups of steaming goodness that made her sister smile. As she served the drinks, she thought she heard a car in the driveway, but it was the wind knocking the lilac bushes against the siding.
She had to stop thinking about Jake while she could. What she ought to be concentrating on was her sister, who had a real problem. Three people living in a single-wide trailer was do-able, sure, but it was a small trailer. Rachel knew that they needed something bigger, especially since they were hoping to add to their family. Not that Amy had said anything, but Rachel knew from the looks Heath and Amy had been sending to one another. They were so in love, so joyful, just so everything.
“I know of a house that would be perfect for you.” She couldn’t help grabbing one of the cupcakes for herself, not that her hips needed more padding
than they already had. “This house I’m thinking of has four big bedrooms on the main floor, a roomy living room and this great country kitchen.”
“No way. We’re not arguing about this again.”
“Not unless these cupcakes are included in the deal,” Heath quipped before he took another healthy bite and said to Amy, “What? What’s wrong with that?”
“That’s an offer I’m gonna accept.” Rachel ignored her sister, who was giving her new husband the narrow glare that all men learned to fear. “It’s too late to back out. Your word is binding, Heath.”
“Wow. And I was kidding about the cupcakes. We don’t want your house, Rachel.”
“Yeah, Rache, you’ve lived here nearly all your life.” Amy abandoned her cupcake and caught Rachel’s free hand with hers. “You deserve this place. I know what you’re going to say, that this is where I grew up, too, but I left home, remember? I ran off and left you and Paige with the diner and when I came back, I didn’t have the right to oust you. I still don’t.”
“This isn’t about your feelings.” Rachel couldn’t believe she sounded so irritated—and she was irritated. Because even as she tossed the cupcake wrapper in the garbage, she wanted to whack it upside her sister’s head—not hard, of course—to make her see. “This place is too big for me.”
“But you’re happy here. You love the memories that are here. I’m not taking that from you. The right house for us will turn up.”
“This is the right house.” Couldn’t anyone else see it? “This is a house for a family, and I don’t have one of those.”
“One day you will.”
“Good, I would love nothing more, but one day isn’t today. And today your family needs a larger place—this place. Look.” She gestured to the window where a movement caught her eyes. Westin and Sally were leaping from the deck. “He’s happy here. Look at him. Plus, there’s already a swing set and the roof is good for another fifteen years.”
One of these days, Amy was going to see reason. Until then, Rachel wasn’t giving up her cause. She took a big bite and savored the rich fudge frosting and moist chocolate cake crumbling across her tongue. The secret whipped-cream filling was so sweet that it ought to make her forget her upset over the house and the fact that Jake was going to come breezing through that door anytime—
“Hey, do I rate enough to get one of those?”
His voice. Jake’s voice. The pleasant rumble of it wrapped around her soul and squeezed. Unfortunately her mouth was full of cupcake, and the instant she locked her gaze on the fine sight of him, she automatically gasped. She felt a few crumbs being sucked down the wrong way and she fought hard not to start coughing. Too late. She covered her mouth and luckily the cough wasn’t a big one. Tears filled her eyes and blurred her vision as she struggled to clear her throat.
Ben came to her rescue, amazing as always, as he strode straight to the table and stole two cupcakes. “Now this is what dessert tastes like in paradise. C’mon, take a bite.” He tossed one to Jake who caught it with one hand. “Hey, Rachel.”
She mumbled hello as she watched Jake catch the cupcake with one hand. Was it her imagination, or did he look more awesome than usual? His short dark hair was seriously windblown, and it seemed impossible that a man could look even better every time she saw him. And kinder, she added, when their gazes locked. “Did you guys have a good jump?”
“Yep, went up a couple a times. Good weather. Great views. I could see all the way to Yellowstone.”
It took no effort at all to imagine him falling fearlessly with a packed chute on his back, the airplane above and the earth below. His cheeks were wind-burned and his inner spirit glowed from the exhilaration. It was as if the layers had been peeled away and she could see the true soul of this man—fearless and stalwart and unfailing.
Her heart gave a little tumble. Not that she was falling for him or anything, but it was hard not to like him more and more. And how could she help it? She took another bite of her cupcake, just to keep her jaw from sagging.
One brow hooked upward, as dashing as any silver-screen star’s, Jake asked, “Did you bake these?”
Her mouth was full again, so she nodded, chewing fast and swallowing. “I’ve been known to dabble in the kitchen.”
“Pretty fancy.”
“Just the outside. Wait ’til you taste it.”
He rose to her challenge and took a huge bite. He rolled his eyes as a sign of ecstasy.
“My own secret recipe.” She couldn’t help smiling wide. “I made two whole dozen, so have as many as you’d like. How about a plate to go with that?”
When he shook his head, she asked, “A napkin? A glass of chocolate milk?”
“I’m a fan of chocolate milk. Count me in,” he said around a mouthful.
“One tall glass, coming up.” She tossed him another smile before she made a U-turn toward the refrigerator. “How about you, Ben?”
He nodded as he took a big bite, his attention focused on dragging out a chair next to Amy. “Gonna sit, Jake?”
While Jake’s pleasant baritone answered, and another chair scraped along the linoleum, Rachel plopped her half-eaten cupcake on a napkin and got to work. Glasses, plenty of chocolate syrup and cold milk. While she stirred each glass, she enjoyed the sounds of conversation: Ben and Heath talking about the real estate market, and Amy asking Jake if Sally knew how to swim and could she come along with her and Westin on their planned jaunt to one of the county pools.
That would be good for Sally, Rachel thought as she gave the milk a final stir. But what about the uncle? What did Jake have planned for tomorrow? None of your business, Rache. Just serve the milk.
A firm hand settled on her shoulder, and it didn’t startle her. Although she hadn’t heard him approach, she felt the zing of his presence, and her pulse thudded loudly in her ears.
“That sure does look good. You are amazing, Rachel.”
“Me? Really? That seems like a pretty big compliment over chocolate milk.” Rachel tried to resist falling in like with him a little more. “Oh, you could charm the moon to the earth. I’ve heard chocolate milk is the cure for false flattery. You’re in luck.” She handed him the closest glass. “Do you think you need two?”
“No, thanks. That wasn’t false flattery. “His dimples flashed and made her knees weak. “I meant every word. You are amazing.”
He walked away, leaving her smiling. He thought she was amazing? Jake Hathaway, Mr. Perfect and Wonderful, liked her? She couldn’t believe it. It was all she could do not to shout joyfully and that’s when she noticed her reflection in the side of the toaster. She had chocolate smeared on her teeth.
Yeah, she was awesome all right. If she didn’t stop embarrassing herself in front of Jake, they really might have a chance.
Chapter Eight
Concentrate on your work, Rache. Before you drop the potatoes. In the diner’s warm kitchen, Rachel made sure Mr. Brisbane’s Southwestern Special had plenty of extra hashed browns, just the way he liked it. Work was tough this morning because she could not get Jake out of her thoughts. And when she wasn’t thinking about Jake, she was fighting off the icky feel of embarrassment.
How could a guy as cool as Jake think of her as anything more than his friend’s little sister? She certainly didn’t act the part of the sophisticated classy woman. If only she could be more like Paige.
“Hear that man of yours is back in town again,” Mr. Winkler commented as he made his way from the front door down the aisle.
“Uh, he’s not my man.”
“Oh, pardon. My mistake.”
Mine, too. Rachel looked around at the diner. This wasn’t how she pictured her life turning out, but she was content enough. Soon this place would be hers to run, and that was all right. Her dad had worked in this diner as a teenager and bought it on a risk when the owners were facing bankruptcy. There wasn’t a lot of money to be made in a small-town diner, but her parents had done okay with good food, friendly service and hard work.<
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As she spotted Mr. Corey, another of their morning regulars, through the hand-off window and cracked two eggs—whites only due to his recent heart attack—on the grill, she could feel the memories of her dad standing right here, merrily calling out to the customers as he cooked. It was as if she could feel a little of that happiness, and it heartened her.
One day, she might find a man who could make her laugh, someone like her dad, someone strong and good and big enough to fill her world.
Mr. Winkler’s sausages were perfect, browned and juicy, and she piled the links onto the plate, added toast and hit the bell. Leaving the plate beneath the warmer, she took a moment to slurp down another bracing swallow of coffee and, taking advantage of the lull, measured up pancake batter.
Jodi swept by to pin up an order on the wheel and grab Mr. Winkler’s meal. “Hey, I got a request from a customer.”
What customer? She hadn’t noticed anyone else coming in, but then she didn’t have her eyes glued to the front door either. “You know I’m here to please. What do I need to cook up special?”
“You’ll have to take that up with the customer. Can she come back?”
“Sure thing.” It had been a long time since she’d had someone talk to her in person. Probably someone on a special diet, which would be no problem at all. The door swung open and a little girl ambled in, squeezing her worn stuffed bunny in both arms. Sally. Did that mean Jake was here? But before she could think to look for him, she noticed the dark circles under the child’s red, swollen eyes. Had she had a real tough night? “Sally, come on over here and give me a hug. Would that be okay?”
Sally nodded her head solemnly. She was stiff with hurt and fear—Rachel could feel it as she gave the girl a gentle hug, bunny and all. She added a deep prayer from her heart.
Help her, Father. She ached to smooth some of the stray wisps that had already escaped her turquoise barrettes. “What can I get special for you, sweet girl?”
“P-pancakes with smiles on them. They t-taste better that way.”