Cooking Up Love

by Cynthia Hickey

  Giving into childish emotion, she kicked and pounded the mattress. Instead of the peaceful Sunday she’d envisioned, it couldn’t be more horrible.

  Except for the kiss. She didn’t know how to feel about Adam’s lips on hers. She rolled onto her back and smoothed a finger across her lips.

  Merrilee marched into the room and approached the bed. She crossed her arms. “I’m telling Miss O’Connor that you were kissing the chef in the woods.”

  Chapter 11

  Tabby woke the next morning achy and with eyes as dry as the desert. After trying to convince Merrilee not to run to the head waitress, she had tossed and turned all night. Not until she promised to stay away from Adam did the other woman finally go to bed.

  Now, a day of dragging feet loomed ahead of her. She groaned and rolled from bed and stared at Merrilee’s empty bed. If Tabby didn’t want to be overshadowed by the new girl’s desire to shine, she would need to move faster and work harder.

  The cool boards under her feet as she shuffled to the mirror signified that summer was drawing to a close. Tabby ran her fingers over the monogram of a flower on her mother’s hairbrush. What would she have thought of her daughter becoming a Harvey Girl? She would be pleased, no doubt, that Tabby got away from the difficulties of her childhood.

  The poverty and hand-me-down clothes. Rented rooms in buildings with more rats than people. Tabby’s job allowed her independence, a good salary and the chance to improve herself. There wasn’t a lot more a girl could do for herself, other than find an upstanding, godly man to share her life with.

  She pulled her brush through her hair with long, rough strokes. First the church service yesterday, then Adam’s kiss and finally Merrilee’s threats. The last month had brought her nothing but chaos. Her hand stilled and she laughed. Well, she said she wanted adventure. It seemed that she’d found it. She’d also found a godly man, if only she could let go of her fears and feelings of unworthiness and welcome his affections. Why couldn’t she?

  Because Tabby had no idea what love was. She couldn’t use her parents as an example, and she’d never spent a lot of time in other kids’ homes observing how their parents interacted. She’d heard about love at church, and she’d read about it in her Bible, but that was head knowledge. She didn’t know how it worked in real life, how loving people acted toward each other.

  Maybe what she felt for Adam wasn’t love, anyway. Perhaps he occupied so many of her thoughts because he was a part of the excitement of being in a new place with a promising career. That must be it. Adam was a symbol of security, something Tabby’s life had always lacked.

  As long as she kept in mind that the reason her heart leaped at the sight of him was that he represented security rather than anything romantic, she could do her job effectively and look forward to more adventures.

  Her steps lighter despite her lack of sleep, Tabby dressed and headed downstairs to begin her work day.

  A frowning Miss O’Connor met her at the restaurant entrance. “I’m sorry to say I need to temporarily revoke your drink girl privileges.”

  Merrilee must have told her about Adam! Tabby decided to feign innocence. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No.” Miss O’Connor waved a hand. “On the contrary. It seems Ingrid decided to run off with a man last night and now we are short a trainer. There is no one more qualified than you to fill that position.”

  Another waitress lost? Did these young women not realize that by running off while under contract they were behaving exactly as Pastor Harper said they would? Tabby expelled the breath she’d been holding. “Yes, ma’am. Wherever you need me.”

  Miss O’Connor turned and stared out the window. “Do you know why the girls seem so unhappy under my rule?” She glanced over her shoulder. “You may be honest.”

  “You have a tendency to be rather harsh.” Tabby clapped a hand over her mouth. Why couldn’t she think before speaking?

  “Don’t fret.” Miss O’Connor breathed deeply through her nose. “I admit maybe I’m too hard on the girls. Perhaps I should be more nurturing, more open to them coming to me with their problems. More like a mother figure than the wagon boss they call me.” She quirked her right eyebrow. “All I’m asking is that they be discreet, as you are in your dealings with Mr. Foster.” The corner of her mouth lifted. “Yes, I’m aware of your back stoop conversations, and since no one has complained about a lack of decorum on your part, I’ve chosen not to say anything. You have proven to be an upstanding example of a Harvey employee.”

  “Thank you.” Tabby really couldn’t figure out the head waitress. Either she was blunt to the point of rudeness or friendly. “Most of the girls seem quite happy in their jobs. Maybe the choices of a few have nothing to do with your leadership.”

  “Perhaps. My job is a lonely one, as you will no doubt figure out for yourself someday. But it also has its rewards.” She blinked wet eyes, her lashes fluttering like the wings of a mockingbird, before she marched into the restaurant.

  Tabby planted her fists on her hips. Now, that was a cry for friendship or her name wasn’t Tabitha McClelland. She’d purchase another box of chocolates at the first opportunity. Maybe she and Miss O’Connor could share them as she and Abigail had.

  The conversation made Tabby all the more determined not to settle in one place. Sure, she might be lonely moving down the line, but think of the people she would meet, the folks she could cheer with a friendly smile and good food. Not staying put lessened people’s ability to hurt her, shatter her emotions, or keep her from her dream.

  Tiredness forgotten, Tabby tightened the bow on her starched apron and pushed through the restaurant doors. Her heart fell at the sight of the girl waiting for her. Merrilee had to be the worst person she could have thrust upon her to train. The other girl didn’t look any happier.

  Merrilee’s dark eyes narrowed, and she turned away. Tabby waited for her to renege on her promise not to say anything about Adam. When she didn’t, Tabby’s heart lifted from the pit of her stomach. She could do this, even if Merrilee’s response felt like a frigid winter wind.

  “Good morning.” Adam bent close to her ear, sending goose bumps down her arms, before he moved past, his arms full of fresh bread.

  “Good morning.” Tabby grinned. Now that Miss O’Connor knew about the innocent time she spent with Adam, she no longer had anything to fear from the irate woman who stood next to her. No, all Tabby had to fear was her own growing attraction to a man who clearly wanted to settle down and have a family.

  Merrilee bumped her shoulder, knocking her back a step, then batted her eyelashes at Adam. “Aren’t you going to say good morning to me?” She pouted.

  “Good morning to you.” Adam gave her a nod and set the bread in a basket on the counter. “Best get busy, ladies. Train will be here soon.”

  “A scowl causes wrinkles. Please try a smile instead, Miss Ramsey. It’s more attractive.” Miss O’Connor sailed past them.

  Tabby stifled a giggle. “We serve the tables over here.” She led Merrilee to the tables overlooking the train platform. “When you take the drink order, you place the cups in the proper position so the drink girl knows exactly what the customer requested without having to ask.” She pointed to a pad of paper in Merrilee’s pocket.

  “Feel free to write down the orders at first, but train yourself to remember what the customer wants. And always treat the customer as if they are the best thing you’ve seen all day.”

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Merrilee crossed her arms. “Having to train me? Well, I’ll be requesting a new trainer at the first opportunity. And don’t think you can give those simpering smiles to Adam without me telling the wagon boss. The sour old cow, telling me to smile.”

  Tabby raised her eyebrows. “Such venom from a Southern lady. You may tell Miss O’Connor anything you desire. She already knows ab
out me keeping company with Adam, and has no problem with the fact.” With that, Tabby pasted on a smile and straightened as the morning train pulled into the station.

  The other girl’s gasp gave her great satisfaction. She knew she shouldn’t behave so, but Merrilee did rile her to distraction. She’d try to behave better. Tomorrow. Today, she wouldn’t let some Jezebel toy with Adam’s affections. Not if she could help it.

  She whispered a prayer of repentance. Adam was a grown man capable of watching out for himself. After all, Merrilee definitely stated she wasn’t looking for marriage unless a man had a lot of money. Tabby clenched her fists in the pockets of her apron. What if Adam were drawn in by her feminine wiles? Why should Tabby care? After all, they were nothing more than friends.

  Then why did the thought of him with someone else feel like a dagger to her heart?

  * * *

  The new girl’s attempts to engage Adam in conversation didn’t escape him. Not that she wasn’t lovely, but she didn’t interest him. Not like Tabby. He much preferred feistiness to simpering eyelash batting, and the woman’s obvious attempts at flirtation were annoying rather than charming.

  He dumped flour into a bowl, then added shortening. Busy chatter from the five new kitchen helpers, two boys and three young girls, brightened his heart. After half a year, the Topeka restaurant was booming, and he’d heard of more Harvey restaurants opening all the time.

  Too many. His hands stilled. The more restaurants that opened, the more chance there was of Tabby moving on.

  Mr. Hastings stepped into the kitchen. “Get a move on, folks. Train is here.” He stepped to Adam’s side. “I’ve also put a pistol under the lunch counter. Make sure the ladies know it’s there.”

  “Why?” Adam stiffened.

  “To discourage unwanted suitors, of course.” Mr. Hastings smirked. “A tale came down the line of one of the customers assaulting one of the girls because his soup was cold.” He patted Adam’s shoulder. “It’s just a precaution. Miss O’Connor will inform the rest of the staff. I presume you can shoot?”

  “I’m a very good shot.” Adam went back to his biscuit preparations. A gun. He shook his head. Not a good idea in his opinion. What if one of the girls got hold of the thing having no idea how to handle a weapon? Sure, most girls probably knew how to handle a pistol, but there were bound to be a few who didn’t.

  Tabby darted into the room and grabbed a basket of wrapped silverware. “Restaurant’s full. It’s going to be a busy day.” She whirled to leave.

  “Wait,” he called before she could dash away.

  She paused and raised her eyebrows in question.

  “There’s a gun behind the lunch counter,” he whispered.

  “I know. It’s under the napkins.”

  “Do you know how to handle one?”

  “Of course.” She grinned and hurried out of the room.

  Adam shook his head. Every day she amazed him. He vowed to find out more about his reluctant friend.

  No mention had been made about his stolen kiss. The way she’d raced away led him to believe the act hadn’t pleased her, yet she didn’t shun him. Although he had hope, he figured it best not to try again for a good long while. Only thing was, he didn’t know how long he had before she left Topeka.

  Biscuits mixed and cut, he slid them into the oven, then wiped his hands on a clean dish towel. “All right, folks. The day gets busier from here. Dishes need to be kept clean and the food trays filled, especially behind the lunch counter. Folks don’t have a lot of time to eat and don’t need to be waiting for us.”

  The helpers scattered to their respective jobs as if he’d fired the beginning shot of a horse race.

  “Telegram, Foster.” Mr. Hastings barged into the kitchen, shoved the slip of paper into Adam’s hands, then raced back to the dining room.

  Adam scanned the notice. His heart stopped, and he sagged against the counter, reading the message again.

  “Mother ill. Stop. Come home. Stop. Daphne.”

  Chapter 12

  Adam dashed upstairs and packed his bag. He couldn’t get home soon enough. Hastings hadn’t argued when Adam told him he needed to leave immediately because of a family emergency.

  The next train left the station in less than half an hour. He needed at least a moment to say goodbye to Tabby.

  He grabbed a few belongings and stuffed them in his bag, then he rushed to the dining room. He might be anxious about his mother, but missing Tabby pulled at his heart, too. What if she left while he was gone? His heart threatened to burst from his chest, not only from his rush in preparing to leave, but because of a flood of emotion. He spotted her at a table by the restaurant window. “Tabby.”

  She murmured something to Merrilee before striding his way. “What’s wrong?” She laid a hand on his arm. “You look upset.”

  He handed her the telegram. Her face paled as she read it. Closing her eyes, she handed the slip of paper back. “I’ll pray for you and your mother.”

  “Won’t you miss me?” Please, say you will.

  Her eyes snapped open. “Of course I will.” She raised her hand to his face, then dropped it before making contact. “We’re the best of friends, after all.” Her chin quivered and she looked away. But not before he saw the shimmer of tears in her eyes. Dare he hope she cried because he was leaving?

  Stubborn woman. Couldn’t she let him know that she would miss him desperately? Or was that only his wishful thinking? Why wouldn’t she admit she had feelings for him? “Yeah, friends.” He wanted to kiss her goodbye and show her exactly what he thought of their just being friends. Instead, he nodded and sprinted for the train.

  While his thoughts were on his family, a piece of his heart remained in the restaurant with Tabby. If only she was here beside him. Her small, smooth hand engulfed in his. Without a doubt, her presence would give him comfort.

  He found a seat and plopped onto it, prepared to spend the ride staring out the window, worrying over Ma and wondering about Tabby’s feelings.

  * * *

  People didn’t send telegrams unless the situation was dire.

  Tabby moved back to her place where she could keep a watchful eye on Merrilee as the girl waited on customers. She lifted a prayer for the safety of Adam’s mother and his quick return, shoving to the back of her mind how much she would miss him.

  Dragging her attention back to her job, her gaze fell on Merrilee. Tabby was content with the knowledge that the woman couldn’t snare Adam’s affections while he was gone. Merrilee caught on quick to the art of serving people with efficiency and a smile. Almost as if she weren’t the Southern belle she pretended to be, but someone used to waiting on others. Tabby narrowed her eyes. There might be more to the woman than she’d first thought. Maybe she held a secret, waiting to be discovered.

  Mr. Hastings stopped beside Tabby. “I’m going to find a temporary chef. Hopefully Mrs. Mayer can fill in on a more permanent basis than just Sundays.” He leaned closer, his mouth inches from her ear. “Would you like to accompany me? I’m confident the restaurant can do without your services for an hour or two.”

  Tabby froze. Was he suggesting what she thought he was? After all, contacting their Sunday chef to fill in during Adam’s absence wouldn’t require a lot of time. No more than fifteen minutes or so. Planting her fists on her hips, she stepped back. “You, sir, are overstepping your boundaries. If you don’t wish for the heel of my boot on your foot, I suggest you change your way of thinking.” With that, she whirled and stomped to the kitchen.

  How would she manage without her champion? Adam was the one person she could go to when she needed to vent her frustrations. He would listen, sometimes offering wise counsel. With Abigail also gone, she had no one. She couldn’t go to Miss O’Connor, especially not with the rumors floating around about her and the manager. There
was no one to tell about Mr. Hastings’s lecherous comments or inappropriate actions.

  Tabby kicked the garbage pail as she passed, ignoring the stunned looks on the faces of the kitchen help, and watched with satisfaction as the can wobbled, then righted itself. Continuing her temper tantrum, she marched outside and glared at the tree line. She envisioned Adam kissing her, and in her mind, she threw caution to the wind and returned his kiss with all the emotion she had in her. The type of kiss a woman gave the man she loved.

  Would the world end if she gave in and welcomed his attention? Allowed him to court her? He seemed as far from Pa in his way of acting as the Atlantic Ocean was from the Pacific. And maybe he could accept her background and not reject her as others had. But she wasn’t ready to take that chance yet. Wounds from childhood pains ran too deep, leaving emotional scars. She sighed and turned back to the kitchen.

  How could they be prepared for the lunch crowd? Even if Mr. Hastings brought Mrs. Mayer back immediately, getting lunch prepared would be a miraculous feat. Tabby glanced at the stove. No, it was better she stay out of the kitchen unless it was for something easy such as washing dishes. Nothing she prepared would be palatable, much less suitable for the high standards of a Harvey restaurant, although she did know what good food tasted like.

  “Mr. Foster’s absence is going to cause a great deal of distress.” Miss O’Connor bustled through the kitchen and into the pantry. She reemerged with a sack of coffee beans, which she thrust at one of the kitchen helpers. “We need these ground as soon as possible.”

  “He didn’t choose for his mother to become ill.” The head waitress couldn’t be so cold as to not care about an ailing woman.