Everything She Needed (Cedar Valley Novel Book 2)

by Christina Butrum

  With that, the room dispersed, offering a quick sympathetic look at their grandfather. Ava was handed off to Adam before Conner ran off to shower.

  “Time to eat,” his mother called out from the dining room table as she dried her hands on her apron. Flopping a spoonful of requested potatoes on his father’s plate, his mother smiled and passed the bowl around.

  Unfolding the high chair, he slid it up to the table; he placed Ava between his and Rachel’s spot at the table. He needed to go out and holler for Tyler, but before he had the chance, Rachel had already opened the front door and was summoning the boy inside. She had it all under control as she pointed to the spare bathroom, directing Tyler to wash up before coming to the table.

  Her eyes caught his, sending arousal pressing against his pants. This woman had a helluva way of turning any situation into something more. Holy hell, it was hot in here. He fanned the collar of his shirt away from his neck.

  The slight blush against her cheeks told him that she was feeling what he was. If there was a way to escape without the family noticing, he’d take care of their situation real quick-like, making sure she understood exactly what she did to him.

  Tyler raced out of the bathroom, whizzed past Rachel, and grabbed a spot at the table between his grandparents. Ava slapped the table, turning Adam and Rachel’s attention back to the here and now. She was ready to eat, evidenced by the way her fists balled up and her eyes focused on the bowl of mashed potatoes.

  Pulling Rachel’s chair out, he waited for her to be seated before sliding it up to the table and taking his own seat. Ava jabbered on while she kept her eyes on him as he scooped a spoonful of potatoes onto her plate.

  Lifting a fork, preparing to stuff his face with the delicious food his mother cooked for them, Adam’s bite was interrupted by his grandfather’s question. “What’s the plan for the fire department?”

  Diverting his eyes from his father’s heavy stare, Adam shrugged. He hadn’t come today to talk about the fire department or politics, or anything that heavy. He wanted to enjoy the time they had together like they had for the last several family dinners.

  As though on cue, Conner entered the dining room, playing a hand through his damp hair before finding a place to sit. “What’d I miss?”

  Adam bit his tongue. The answer he wanted to give wasn’t the answer his brother was looking for. Too much of it was too bitter for an answer, so Adam swallowed the words with a mouthful of lemonade.

  The shift of tension spread throughout the dining room, surrounding them like a thick fog of unsettled words. His father’s eyes told him that something was coming, something that was going to stir the pot and get everyone bickering. Adam hoped it wouldn’t happen like that, but he knew his family, and the last thing to happen would be a calm, civilized conversation.

  Rachel must have sensed it too, because the look of discomfort had crossed her face several times in the last several minutes. Why his family couldn’t all get along was lost on him—or his father, he should say. The trouble had found them when Conner had announced his move to Colorado. His family couldn’t accept it and move on. Instead, they had come to dwell on it, month after month, year after year.

  “I heard that Megan O’Brien’s thinking about joining the department,” Gramps said, shortly after taking a bite of mashed potatoes. Adam loved that man, but he sure as heck didn’t know how to take a hint.

  Adam nodded, deciding not to continue ignoring his grandfather’s questions. “She talked about it the other night at Levy’s. She’s coming in Monday to have a talk with me about it.”

  “She’s always been one to solve a problem when she sees it,” Gramps said, spooning another helping of potatoes onto his plate. “I’m sure Rosie’s just tickled over the whole thing.”

  From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Conner fidgeting, trying to stay low and out of the conversation. Adam wondered how close he and Megan actually were. That’d be saved for another discussion. He was sure there’d be plenty of time to discuss that—if and when the time was right, and it surely wasn’t right now.

  “She’s not too happy about it,” Rachel said, using the corner of her napkin to guard against her half eaten food. “She talked about it the other day at Granny Mae’s.”

  “Do you think the department is going to hire her, Adam?” His grandfather’s question was one of complete innocence. As if his grandfather just now caught the wave of tension radiating from Adam’s father on his left, he shrugged and said, “Well, I only ask because I know how many hours you’ve been pulling to make ends meet around there. I’m sure Megan will be a fine addition to the squad.”

  “I don’t think a girl could handle the job, Gramps,” Conner said with that big, ol’ dumb smirk of his.

  A grunt sounded from the opposite end of the table. Adam knew exactly what was coming next. Jacobsen family war, round two. “You think you can do the job any better, boy?”

  The added emphasis on the boy was a subtle indication of how upset their father actually was. He hadn’t given up his care about the department since his retirement. Heck, if Adam had to say anything about that, he thought his father cared more now, than ever. Which had become obvious due to the heated arguments they’d had recently.

  Conner shoveled food into his mouth as though it was going to be his last supper. Adam remembered the days of being young and dumb, carefree, but now those days were gone and soon would be for Conner, too.

  “I could do a heck of a lot better than a girl,” Conner mumbled, short of clarity and confidence as he looked down at his plate.

  “I think you’d better give that another thought or two,” their father said, clearing his spot at the table. The look his father gave Conner was one that would have done some harm if Conner wasn’t self-absorbed. “Because the last time I checked, you ran...”

  “I didn’t run,” Conner said, now looking their father straight in the eye. His cheeks red and his eyes burned with whatever hate he had for the man. “I took a better offer and made something of myself rather than...”

  He cut himself off after taking a look at Adam and the surrounding family. Adam knew what he wanted to say. Cedar Valley hadn’t offered him anything worth sticking around for. Adam wouldn’t have stuck around either, if it hadn’t been for the department.

  The silence that hung around them was more awkward and painful than the tension had been. His grandfather grabbed for his napkin, causing his fork and knife to clatter against the plate, breaking the silence. “I’ll tell you something,” he said, frustration and anger twisted his face. “Back in my day, families didn’t argue like this. Instead, they came together and did what’s right. Put your pride aside, boy, and do what’s right.”

  His words were directed straight at Conner, who was sitting with his arms crossed in front of him as he leaned forward on the table, and after a long minute, he said, “Hell, I’ve already done that.”

  Gramps called bullshit with his grunt and a shake of his head, but Conner corrected him by saying the next words no one thought they’d hear in a million years. “I’m here to stay.”

  18

  “Have you talked to Adam about Megan yet?”

  Rosie’s question was full of desperation, but Rachel had to be honest and up front with her. She had talked to Adam, and as far as she knew, Megan had a spot guaranteed on the squad. Not because Adam didn’t take Rosie’s wishes into consideration, but because Megan was needed and would make a great addition to the team—Adam’s words, not hers. She barely knew Megan, except for the fact that she had been right there alongside Leah after the wreck, when she herself couldn’t be.

  “Rosie,” Rachel said, taking hold of her hand and leading her into the back room filled with mixers and fresh ingredients for round number three of baking all day. Finding an empty spot along the counter, Rachel nestled herself right up there. “The department needs volunteers.”

  Rosie’s eyes clouded with realization. Tears dared to fall, but remained welled
along the bottoms of Rosie’s eyes. “I know that. I just...”

  Reassurance was all Rachel could afford to give Rosie, something that she needed to hear. It wasn’t a promise, because Rachel couldn’t make promises that had no guarantee to be kept, but she knew that Adam would do his best to keep the whole team safe. He would do whatever it took to make sure everyone came home safe each and every night. “Megan will do just fine,” she finally said, after struggling to find the right words. “She’s a damned good paramedic, and I know she’ll fit right in with the others on the squad. They all love her.”

  “I know they do,” Rosie said, drying the tears that had escaped with the top of her apron. It pained Rachel to see Rosie so upset, but she knew that everything would be okay. The department needed volunteers. Adam needed volunteers. It would all work out. “It’s just the thought of something happening to her. I...”

  “From what I see and hear, there is no better team than the one we have here in the department,” Rachel said, adding emphasis on no better team. She wasn’t lying. She had never seen departments, all departments from law enforcement, medics, and fire, come together and love another like family. It was hard to find, and being from the city, she could vouch for Cedar Valley’s willingness to reach out and support one another. That kind of thing didn’t happen much in the city—not that she had any personal affiliation with them. You could tell a close knit service when you saw one. “She’s in good hands.”

  Rachel looked forward to the day Adam wouldn’t have to pull so many hours. He was getting overwhelmed with not being at home with her and the kids. He felt he was missing out on more than the average father, and it disappointed him. She could see it on his face every time she mentioned what Tyler and Ava had done together once home for the day. Normal conversations weren’t normal anymore. They were becoming a slap in his face, and she couldn’t help but wish for something to change.

  “Thank you, Rach,” Rosie said, dabbing the last of her tears from her cheeks as she looked in the mirror to make sure her makeup still looked good. “Sometimes these hormones get the best of me.”

  “It’s okay, I know exactly how that is,” she said, offering Rosie a hug. She had known hormones all too well during her pregnancy. There were several days when she couldn’t control her emotions. She had been one giant mood swing, day after day.

  Rosie shuffled through the swinging doors after offering Rachel a quick peck on the cheek. She remembered the first time meeting Rosie, how sweet and kindhearted the woman had been. Nothing had changed since then and Rachel was thankful for that.

  The whirling mixer hummed as she gathered her next set of ingredients. Today, she would be making her favorite cupcakes, from scratch and extra sweet. She loved to imitate Betty Crocker’s mix with a special recipe of her own. She especially enjoyed hearing the compliments and generous comparisons between hers and other cupcakes the customers had eaten before.

  Today was cupcake day, which in fact, was also the day that a special order was to be made. This busy weekend ahead included her best friend, Leah, who was so far along she couldn’t tie her own shoes anymore. She had long since switched to slip-ons and Velcro. Rachel had tried so hard not to laugh the day they got together over chocolate shakes last week, but it was so hard not to, with the memory of how awful it was for Rachel when she had gotten to that stage of pregnancy. And that’s not including getting up out of your seat, either.

  After pouring the chocolatey mix into the liners, she placed the pans into the preheated oven and shut the door. She was more than excited to get started on the cupcakes for Leah’s baby shower, but she needed to keep a decent amount of time between batches. She had learned that from the first day, when she had several cookies waiting to be frosted and hadn’t even eaten lunch yet. Granny Mae had emphasized Take your time and give yourself some time, too.

  As though she needed a subtle reminder, her stomach grumbled and growled, indicating it was time for a short break. Walking out front, the cafe was crowded with their regular customers. It seemed funny that the women in town gathered here while their husbands gathered for lunch at Levy’s. Something about a man and his grilled food, they’d say.

  “Rachel,” an older woman called out from a table nearby. The woman was seated with a few other women Rachel recognized from the recent newspaper article—something about members of some sort of association dealing with cards and what not. She hadn’t paid much attention to it, because Ava had demanded she play Barbies and baby dolls all day that day.

  As Rachel neared the table, she reached for an empty chair and sat down. She had a few minutes before she needed to get the cupcakes out of the oven. Soon, the smell would drift out into the dining area and everyone would be requesting to know what was for dessert.

  “Tell me, how’s Cedar Valley treating you?” the older woman asked, taking a sip of her coffee, proper etiquette and all.

  “Good,” Rachel said with a smile. “I love it here. Everyone’s so nice and welcoming. It’s like we’re one big family.”

  The whites of the women’s dentures shined when they chuckled and offered agreement with what she had said. These women wore their lipstick bright and their mascara flawlessly. She would love to get makeup guidance from them if they’d offer. She chuckled at the thought of them offering out of pity. Bless your heart, dear, they would say as they gathered around with their tips and much needed advice.

  She saw the look they all gave one another, as if something needed to be said, but no one wanted to say it or had the right words to use. Rachel shifted in her chair. The timer on the oven would ding any minute and the sudden silence at the table had her all sorts of uncomfortable. It was hard to know what these ladies were up to. Maybe they were mind readers and they were willing to offer her some much needed guidance after all. Rachel wouldn’t turn it down. Motherhood had welcomed her with wide open arms to a world of messy hair, no time for hours in front of a mirror, and definitely no time to dress accordingly. She had found herself wearing yoga pants nine times out of ten—only dressing up once in a while, for family events for example. And by dressing up, she meant actually putting on a pair of jeans and a shirt that wasn’t stained or well worn.

  “What would you say if we asked you to bake for our annual event?” a woman sitting to the left of bright pink asked.

  “Hold that thought,” Rachel said, holding a finger up as she darted off toward the kitchen. She hoped she hadn’t taken too long. The last thing she wanted was burnt cupcakes. The smell of chocolate surrounded her as she stumbled through the swinging door.

  Throwing a mitt on, she hovered near the oven, peeking in at what could be a waste of four dozen cupcakes. They seemed to look okay. The main test would be to get them out and try one. The dinger had gone off a few minutes ago, but she knew how delicate those minutes were when it came to baking—the time between moist and burnt—critical condition.

  Pulling them out, she placed them on a rack to cool. She would have to try one after a bit. Right now, she wanted to get back out and talk with these ladies about this annual event of theirs.

  * * *

  The annual bake off was this weekend. The ladies were desperate to win the grand prize—$10,000. They wouldn’t tell Rachel what the money would go towards, but she couldn’t turn them down.

  She penciled in her schedule of baking, making the annual event second to Leah’s cupcakes. The baby shower was Saturday. The event was Sunday—something Rachel may have heard about, but like everything else lately, it took a place on the back burner.

  The event was to include everyone from miles around. A fair rule mentioned was for all baking to be done by scratch. The women had mentioned there would be no problem for Rachel.

  As though the mixer understood the constraint of her to-do list, it sputtered flour in heaps onto the cupboards and countertop. Another mess for Rachel to clean up, but it would have to wait until the last of the cupcakes were out of the oven. She hated leaving messes until later. She had pick
ed up the trait from her grandmother, who seldom left a mess until the very end of a job. There was no way around it when she had spent most of her time with her grandmother. But, there was always a first for everything. Like leaving a mess and entering a bunch of cupcakes into a town’s annual bake off that was less than a few days away and the clock was ticking.

  She sent multiple texts to Adam, requesting to know what she had gotten herself into, and had sent the same text messages to Leah demanding answers.

  Leah’s answers were a lot different than Adams. Where Adam had told her that she had gotten herself into it, she was a good baker and people knew it. He had mentioned something along the lines of can’t hide from natural talent when you’ve got it. Leah had answered with as much sarcasm as she could with a straight but you love me.

  It was true, she loved Leah, and loved the town, too. The two combined gave her business and offered her a chance to spread her amazing sweetness around—which now sounded dirtier than her mixer was at the moment.

  Sending a text back to Adam, she told him that she would be pulling longer hours at the cafe now, and could possibly swing having Ava and Tyler in the back with her. That way, she wouldn’t have to keep Ava long at daycare and Tyler could help out. He loved baking as much as he loved football, and she couldn’t deny how much his passion for baking could help her right now.

  She would pick the kids up in a couple of hours. It was a done deal. Supper wouldn’t be on the table when Adam got home, which he said was perfectly all right. He’d stop by Levy’s when he got off and order pizza for them when she gave word of heading home.

  She finished up with the last of the buttercream frosting for the ten dozen cupcakes she had made for the cafe. She would come in early the next day to set them out in the display case next to the register. It had taken less time than she had thought, but it was now nearing three p.m. and she had kids to pick up.