by Cindy Kirk
“I ran into this guy downtown.” Noah jerked a thumb in Andrew’s direction. “We got to talking and decided to stop by and see if you needed help.”
“Looks like a wild party.” Andrew spoke for the first time since walking up.
Bits of harmony mingled with the sounds of muted laughter and conversation.
“It’s a gathering of the local Sweet Adelines group,” Sylvie explained. “They’re wooing prospective members.”
“And eating everything in sight,” Josie confided.
Sylvie couldn’t figure out why Andrew was here. They’d agreed to terms, one of them being they’d wait to begin the “immersion” tomorrow.
“How much longer until you’re sprung?” Noah asked.
Sylvie didn’t have a chance to say Josie could leave anytime when Kathy Randall rushed up. Worry furrowed the older woman’s brow. “Do either of you ladies happen to play the piano?”
Josie shook her head. “Sorry. ‘Chopsticks’ is it for me.”
“That’s more than I can do.” Sylvie touched Kathy’s arm. “Is there a problem?”
“We always have a sing-along with the piano at events like these.” Kathy gestured to the baby grand. “But Suzanne Duggan came down with a nasty cold today. Knowing we were counting on her, she came tonight, but we sent her home.”
“There isn’t anyone in your group who plays?” Sylvie found it difficult to believe there wasn’t at least one person in this group of singers who could bang out a few tunes.
“We have several.” Kathy’s cheeks pinked. “But Suzanne has been doing this for years. She can play anything the crowd wants, so we didn’t bring any sheet music.”
“I can help.” Andrew stepped forward, extended a hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Andrew O’Shea, a friend of Sylvie’s.”
“You play the piano, Mr. O’Shea?”
“Please call me Andrew.” He flashed her the smile that had always made Sylvie go weak in the knees. “I haven’t played much in recent years, but I’m proficient. I also have a good ear for music and pick up most tunes easily.” Sylvie could see Kathy react to the self-assured tone. Not bragging, that wasn’t Andrew’s style, just confident.
Kathy surprised them all by flinging her arms around Andrew and giving him a hug. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“Glad to help out,” Andrew said.
“Everyone,” Kathy called out at the same time she motioned for him to follow her to the piano. “We’ve got our pianist.”
Applause echoed off the walls graced by portraits of elk, bison and majestic mountains.
Josie leaned close to Sylvie. “Is he any good?”
Sylvie just smiled, not about to admit that she’d never heard him play.
Andrew sat at the piano, played a few scales with nimble fingers, then smiled up at Kathy. “What would you like me to play first?”
“Hold that thought.” Kathy flashed him a smile, then whirled and clapped her hands sharply.
Several women in the back of the room immediately ceased their conversation.
“Ladies, this part of the program is a chance for us to warm up our voices and have a bit of fun doing it.”
“I’ll toss out the first song. The rest of you be thinking what you’d like to request next.” Kathy turned to Andrew and surprised them all by requesting “Friends in Low Places.”
Sylvie was shocked when Andrew’s fingers settled on the keys and he began to play the country classic.
Sylvie hadn’t expected to sing. She was here only to do the catering. But when Kathy looped an arm through hers and smiled, she sang along to the Garth Brooks hit.
Instead of simply following the melody, Sylvie found herself harmonizing with Kathy. The older woman’s smile of pleasure encouraged her to continue.
The moment the song ended, someone in the audience requested “Country Roads.” Sylvie considered stepping away to check the desserts, but decided what would be the point? Everyone at this party had forgotten all about food, except for Noah and Josie, who appeared to be doing more sampling than singing.
After a half dozen, Kathy clapped her hands once again and announced the sing-along portion of the evening had come to an end.
Andrew rose from the piano bench to a rousing chorus of applause.
When Sylvie turned, intending to check on how many desserts Josie and Noah had left, Kathy restrained her.
“You have a lovely alto, my dear. Have you thought about joining our group?”
Sylvie cocked her head. Was the woman joking?
“I believe she’s serious.” Andrew stepped to her side. “I heard you harmonizing. You’ve got a nice voice.”
“I’m flattered.” Sylvie shifted from one foot to the other. “But growing my business has to be my priority.”
“Of course it does.” Kathy nodded understandingly. “But I believe you’ll discover the more involved you become in the community, the more referrals you’ll receive. In Jackson Hole, who is picked to cater events is often as much a result of personal connections as it is the person’s talent with food. Just think about it. You don’t need to decide tonight. I’ll be in touch.”
“She’s right, you know,” Andrew said as Kathy walked away.
“I don’t have time to sing.” Sylvie wondered why she sounded so cross when she’d actually enjoyed the interlude. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
She’d counted on having this evening to get her head on straight. Seeing Andrew, making love with him, had thrown her off balance. Dear God, what had she been thinking?
She hadn’t been thinking—that was the problem.
For the past three months she’d convinced herself she was over him. Her reaction to him yesterday said that had been only wishful thinking. Getting over him was obviously still very much a work in progress.
When he’d played several love songs with those clever fingers that had played across her body less than twenty-four hours ago, her heart ached with longing for the life with him she’d once envisioned.
It wasn’t fair for him to come here, all handsome and talented, and remind her of what she’d lost. But then, hadn’t she learned long ago that life was seldom fair?
“This is better.”
She blinked and realized he’d maneuvered her into a tiny room filled with Native American artifacts. Andrew, by his mere presence, stood so close she could smell the subtle spicy scent of his cologne and see the tiny gold flecks in his gray eyes.
“We can talk here.” His gaze remained on her. “I ran into Noah downtown.”
The area was so small, and for a second, Sylvie was confused. Why had he brought up Josie’s fiancé? Then she realized he was explaining why he was here tonight. Or attempting to explain.
“Just because he was coming here to see Josie didn’t mean you had to accompany him. Men aren’t wolves. They don’t run in packs.”
He flashed a quick grin, seemingly not disturbed by her petulant tone. “Noah mentioned his fiancée was helping you with your catering duties this evening. He told me he planned to stop over and see if he could lend any assistance.”
“Still doesn’t explain your presence.”
“He knew I wasn’t busy. Since you and I will be seen together in the next few weeks, I decided it might look odd if I didn’t offer to come along.”
As far as logical arguments went, it was a sound one.
“I didn’t know you played the piano so well,” she said abruptly.
“I didn’t know you sang so well.”
Sylvie’s lips quirked. “That was a surprise, even to me.”
He chuckled.
Suddenly that blasted electrical pull reared up and zapped her silly. Though she’d made it clear this “immersion” thing wouldn’t include sexual contact, in a mat
ter of hours she was tempted to break her own rule.
Andrew stepped forward. Or had she moved closer? He certainly hadn’t lifted her hands to his shoulders.
“Sylvie, we’re getting short of—”
Josie came to an abrupt stop. She smiled.
Behind her, Noah grinned. He surveyed the small, private alcove with an appreciative eye. “I’ll have to remember this space.”
Josie studied them both, a sly smile topping her lips. “If you’re busy—”
Sylvie dropped her hands and stepped from Andrew, hoping the fact that her face burned didn’t mean she was blushing. Why did they keep these places so blasted hot? “We’re done here.”
Andrew shot her a bland smile. “If there’s anything I can do to help...”
“Thanks. I’ve got this under control.” As she brushed past him and the electricity crackled, she only wished it were true.
Chapter Seven
Sylvie rose extra early the next day to bake. Since it was Labor Day, most of the restaurants, cafés and coffee shops she had contracts with had ordered extra of the cakes and pastries they normally requested. In addition, she made up little cake bites and decorated them with the Star Wars characters that were so popular now.
As Andrew hadn’t made an appearance by the time the baked goods were ready to be delivered, Sylvie loaded up Ethel with bakery boxes and began her deliveries.
She wondered what had delayed him. Did it have something to do with the phone call he’d received last evening? As the Sweet Adelines event was winding down, he’d received a call from a patient back in Boston.
Sylvie told herself to relax and enjoy the morning solitude, but her thoughts kept drifting to how he’d looked at the piano, fingers flying over the keys. Then there was that “almost” kiss in the alcove...
Her thoughts were on anything but business as she made her final delivery to a local coffee shop. Hill of Beans in Jackson Hole was the only store in the coffee empire begun by Cole Lassiter where you could often find the man himself working the counter.
From what she’d heard, Cole was a local boy who’d left town with nothing but a high school education and had returned home a success. As Sylvie opened the side door, she spotted him behind the counter, coaching an obviously new employee on the fine art of making the perfect cup of cappuccino.
Cole looked up when the bells chimed. He smiled and lifted a hand in greeting. In many ways he reminded her of Andrew. Both had lean, athletic builds, dark hair and similarly shaped eyes. But there was a wariness and a hardness in Cole’s eyes that said he’d survived the worst life had to offer.
Sylvie recognized the look because when she gazed into the mirror every morning, she saw that same wariness, yet Cole had climbed that steep mountain and was now happily on the other side. He was married and had two children with his wife, Meg, a physical therapist.
Sylvie had gotten to know Meg fairly well. She was one of the owners of Body Harmony Inc., the multitherapy specialty clinic where Josie worked as a massage therapist.
Setting the tray of scones, cinnamon rolls and other goodies on the counter, Sylvie smiled at the teenage employee Cole was coaching.
Something in the girl’s eyes told Sylvie this was another person who’d had a rough start in life. Sylvie wasn’t surprised Cole had hired her. He was known for giving others a helping hand up.
He’d done that for her, for her business. When she’d stopped in to discuss providing the treats people loved to have with their coffee, they’d sat and talked for the longest time, simply getting acquainted. Despite the fact that she’d had bills to pay and no income at that moment, Sylvie had tried not to let her desperation show.
She remembered the strong shake of his hand when they’d come to an agreement. His kindness and faith in her were something she planned to pay forward one day.
Cole’s gaze skimmed the tray’s contents. He gave a nod of approval. “These look great, Sylvie.”
The girl—Amber, according to her name tag—stepped forward, her brown eyes widening at the sight of all the goodies, settling on the minicakes. “You made these?”
Sylvie nodded.
“How’d you know what to do?”
She understood the puzzled look. Her mother hadn’t been handy in the kitchen, either.
“I taught myself. YouTube videos, online tutorials, sites dedicated to baking. You name it, I watched or read it. I experimented. I learned what worked...and what didn’t.” Sylvie smiled wryly, recalling those early disasters. “After high school, I received a scholarship to a culinary institute in New York City.”
A look of awe blanketed the girl’s face. “You must be really smart.”
“I simply loved baking.” Sylvie shrugged off the praise. “Creating feeds my soul.”
The girl nodded, then shifted her gaze to a spot behind Sylvie. “May I help you, sir?”
A prickle tickled Sylvie’s spine. She didn’t need to turn her head to know it was Andrew. If she hadn’t been so focused on the conversation, on the girl’s enthusiasm, she’d have felt his presence sooner.
How long had he been standing there? she wondered. Then again, what did that matter?
“I’m with her.” He gestured with his head toward Sylvie.
She saw Cole’s gaze sharpen and his expression turn speculative. Keeping her own expression bland, Sylvie shifted and smiled at Andrew.
When he placed a hand on her shoulder, she felt the heat of his touch all the way through the thin cotton to the skin beneath. “I got caught up on a call.”
Andrew switched his focus to Cole and Amber. “Any chance we can get a couple of cappuccinos to go?”
“I believe we can manage that order.” Cole smiled at his new employee. “Would you like to make them?”
The girl hesitated momentarily, then nodded.
“Just remember.” Sensing Amber’s uncertainty, Sylvie spoke in an encouraging tone. “Practice really does make perfect.”
Amber stepped to the cappuccino machine, squared her shoulders and began to work the controls. She glanced back for a second and Sylvie shot her a wink.
When Sylvie refocused on the men, she found Cole and Andrew talking sports with an ease that surprised her. “Do you know each other?”
“I wandered in here a couple of days ago.” Andrew glanced around the shop, his gaze lingering on the yellow stars plastered on the shop’s windows. “I asked Cole about the interesting decor.”
Sylvie had noticed the bright yellow cutouts but hadn’t really paid attention to them. She stepped close for a better look. Each star contained the name of a person and “People’s Health Center.”
Obviously sensing her puzzlement, Cole moved to the window and plucked one of the stars. “This name represents an individual who contributed to the clinic that will serve the medically indigent in the area,” he explained.
“Is that the building out on the highway?” Sylvie drove by the square, one-story building with the stone facade often. The place had been under construction since she’d arrived in Jackson Hole. “I noticed it now has a big Grand Opening sign out front.”
“The grand opening is this Saturday. There will be tours and Hill of Beans will have a beverage cart in the parking lot offering free lattes and cappuccinos.” A satisfied smile lifted Cole’s lips. “A lot of people in Jackson Hole have worked long and hard to make this clinic a reality.”
“You said something the other day about a Dr. McGregor being instrumental,” Andrew prompted.
“Mitzi McGregor is an orthopedic surgeon here in Jackson. She and her husband have been pushing for this for a while now.” Cole glanced at Sylvie. “When you grow up in poverty, you understand the challenges kids and adults face in obtaining even the most basic health care.”
Before more could be said, Amber ret
urned with two “go” cups. “I hope you like them.”
“I’m sure we will.” Impulsively Sylvie placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I’m going to have you make all my drinks in the future.”
Amber flushed, but Sylvie saw the words had pleased the girl.
She picked up her drink.
“If you end up running short of doctors to staff the clinic, I can function as a locum tenens while I’m here and see patients,” Andrew told Cole.
Though Cole appeared to understand what that meant, Sylvie didn’t have a clue. She waited until she and Andrew had stepped outside to ask him. “What does ‘locum tenens’ mean?”
He took her arm. “Let’s go for a walk and I’ll tell you.”
As Hill of Beans was her final stop of the morning, there wasn’t anywhere Sylvie needed to be.
“I have a license to practice medicine in Massachusetts,” Andrew said as they strolled down the sidewalk. Because of the early hour, most of the businesses were still closed. “I won’t be here long enough to apply for and receive a Wyoming license. Locum tenens is a way for doctors to temporarily fill in for another doctor who is unavailable, usually because of illness or vacation.”
It sounded complicated to Sylvie. But as he continued to explain, she realized none of this got to the heart of what she really wanted to know. “You’re here on a type of vacation. Why do you want to work?”
When his footsteps slowed, she glanced around and realized they’d reached the downtown district that edged into residential, where lawns were like carpets of green and brightly colored flowers bloomed in hanging planters from porches and around trees.
Andrew paused in front of a black fence with ornate scrollwork that led into a small neighborhood park. “This looks like a good place to rest.”
Sylvie had noticed the park before but had never been inside. There was a small play area for children boasting an old-fashioned merry-go-round, a metal slide and some rocking animals on springs.
There was also a swing set with U-shaped seats, wrought-iron benches and bushes sculpted in the shapes of various animals.