Her Unexpected Hero

by Kyra Jacobs

  “What are you doing?”

  She paused with the glass at her lips, eyebrows raised. “Getting a drink, what does it look like?”

  “Then have a glass of water.”

  “It’s not as tasty.” She took in his flat look and tightened her grip. “I have a glass or two when I’m stressed. My kitchen, my rules.”

  “I don’t care if it’s the president of the United States’s kitchen—much more and you’re not gonna make it home in one piece.”

  She snorted. “Good, then I won’t have to look as hard for a new place to do my laundry.”

  She was stalling, trying to sidestep his intervening ways. He’d seen it a million times. Unlucky for her, he also knew about a million ways to get around it.

  “It wasn’t that bad,” he said, keeping his voice casual. “Tyson knows your name now, and you know his.”

  “Yep, he sure does. I’ll forever be known as ‘Maddie Whose Fat Arm Got Stuck Under a Washer’ to him. Terrific.”

  “Since when did you become the pouty, mopey type?”

  Her eyes widened with surprise. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “For your information, I am neither pouting nor moping.” She slammed her glass down.

  Bingo.

  Cole swiped it off the counter, marched to the sink, and dumped its contents down the drain. He turned back to find her wide-eyed face turning redder by the second.

  “What did you do that for?”

  “For your own good.”

  “And who’s the boss in here?”

  “You are.” Cole yanked his apron off and slammed it into the laundry hamper. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stand around and watch you get hammered. Unlike you, my work is done.”

  Her scowl deepened. “Good. Go home so you don’t have to watch.”

  “Fine.”

  He passed by the fridge to grab his coat, then came back to it, swiped the box of wine, and turned for the swinging double doors.

  “Where the heck do you think you’re going with that?”

  “Home,” he said without looking back. “So I don’t have to watch.”

  He slammed through the doors, startling Ruby and Kayla who were folding napkins at the bar that separated the kitchen from the dining room. Maddie’s shouts followed in bursts as the doors swung open and shut in his wake. The women looked from the kitchen to him to the object in his hands. A knowing smile dawned on Ruby’s face.

  “Heading home, dear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She rose from her seat, giving Kayla’s arm a reassuring pat, then turned her attention to him. “I’ll see you out.”

  “That’s not necessary, Mrs. Ma—”

  “Don’t you Mrs. Masterson me, Cole Granville. It was Ruby the day you were born and it’ll be Ruby until the day you die.”

  Now it was Kayla’s turn to grin. She ducked her head and said her farewells as they passed by. Ruby lay a gentle hand upon Cole’s arm as they made their way to the lobby.

  “You really don’t need to trouble yourself walking me out.”

  “Oh, I know. I also know the last thing you need is to have a partially consumed box of wine in your grandfather’s truck.” She gestured toward her office. “Leave it under my desk, dear. I’ll have Brent put it back in the fridge in the morning.”

  “I had just planned on throwing it away, to be honest. I don’t drink the stuff.”

  “Oh, now, don’t go thinking poorly of our Maddie. We all have our flaws. Sometimes we just need a bit of help avoiding self-destruction by those closest to us now and then.”

  Cole knew full well about trying to keep people closest to him from self-destructing. He also knew how much of a lost cause for some people that could be.

  “You think she’ll be okay to drive home?”

  “How many glasses did she have?” Ruby asked.

  “Two that I saw, could have been more.”

  “Then Kayla and I will delay her, give the drink time to wear off. It’s the cheap stuff, shouldn’t take long.” Ruby patted his arm once more, her eyes crinkled at the corners from her smile. “You’re a good boy, Cole. Set that box in my office, then run on home to your grandfather and give him my regards.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He stepped into Ruby’s office, careful not to trip over the chairs set opposite her grand desk in the muted light, and set the box where she’d instructed. He rose to his full height and spied a nearby photo album, opened to an autographed picture of a former golf celebrity. Arnold Palmer, maybe? Curiosity drew Cole closer to flip through a few more pages, in awe at the idea of being in the same building as any of the pictured sports celebrities, movie stars, and politicians.

  Ruby was one lucky lady. One of the kindest he knew, too. He trusted that she would take care of Maddie and see that she made it home safe and sound. But would she help cool his boss down enough to keep him from losing his job? Stealing her wine was right up there with insubordination, and he knew how strongly she felt about that—just ask Sarah.

  He strode out the front door, shaking his head at how something like a simple kitchen job was beginning to turn his world upside down. Not the job, a voice in the back of his mind whispered. The woman.

  Cole paused on the porch’s bottom step and looked back to the inn. Why had he gotten all protective of Maddie tonight? She was a grown woman, old enough to make her own decisions, good, bad, or otherwise. So why had he stepped in and cut her off?

  Because they were becoming friends, he realized, and that’s what friends did. They also forgave each other when things didn’t turn out as planned. Hopefully, she was beginning to consider him a friend, too. If she didn’t…well, he’d just have to get over it. What other choice did he have?

  Disappointed at how the night had gone, he continued on to his grandfather’s truck. There wasn’t anything he could do to make things better between him and Maddie tonight, so it was best to let it go and give her time to calm down. In the meantime, he’d just work on design sketches for his new shop and hope for the best.

  …

  Maddie finished her prep for tomorrow’s breakfast in record time, anger speeding her actions.

  Who did that jerk think he was, taking off with her wine like that? And tossing in a guilt trip about drinking and driving to boot? An insult to her character, as she’d never do something that stupid.

  She threw a load of towels into the wash, swapped her apron for her purse, and headed for the swinging doors. It’d been a long night, and one she was more than ready to have end. Kayla and Ruby looked up from their seats at the bar top, appraising looks on each of their faces. Maddie drew to a temporary halt, feeling a sense of betrayal.

  “Really? Just like that, you’re going to take his side?” Both of them returned to their linen napkin folding, eyebrows raised but without retort. “Wow, and I thought women always stuck together when it came to guy issues.”

  “Are you having guy issues?” Kayla looked up. “I thought Cole was just your hired help.”

  “Well, yeah. Of course that’s all he is.”

  “Hired help who was concerned about your general welfare, dear.” Ruby set a completed napkin aside. “A far more noble gesture than your former staff ever offered. Such a disappointment, that one.”

  “Don’t be too disappointed—I knew within five minutes of Cole being in the kitchen that he’d end up working rings around her. But this weekend he…”

  What could she say? Admit he was helping coach her on dating? No, that’d defeat the whole purpose of her arrangement with Cole. She was trying to protect her ego, not dash it in front of the others. Maddie ran a hand over her hair, wishing she’d never lied. Stupid gala…

  “You wanna talk about it?” asked Kayla.

  “No.” Which wasn’t true. She’d bottled up her anger all day, carried it with her everywhere. Venting here among friends would bring her more peace than chewing Cole out. Too bad talking about it would require more
lies, because no way was she coming clean on this whole coaching deal. She dropped into a chair near the others with a sigh. “Fine. He made me look like an idiot in front of Tyson Sunday.”

  “Tyson?” Kayla offered her a coy grin. “Who’s Tyson?”

  Crap. Well, now she really had to make sure she got a date with him for the gala, or her whole gig would be up. “My…the guy I’m sort of…”

  “You have a boyfriend? When did this happen?” Kayla scooted her chair closer. “We need deets! Now spill.”

  This. This was why it was best around here to stay in the kitchen, safe behind those swinging doors. Maddie picked up the proverbial shovel and began digging the hole she was in deeper. “Well, it’s all fairly recent. I met him at the Quarter Clean-It.”

  “Oooh, a local.” Kayla and Ruby exchanged a look. “College guy?”

  “No.” At least, not that she knew of. Crap, this was only going to go from bad to worse. Time to give some generics, then change the subject. “He’s tall, cute, muscular. Anyway, Cole shows up and, uh, causes me to drop my change. I squat down to reach under the washer for it and my sweater gets caught on something. So there I am, butt in the air and arm stuck under the machine, looking like a total idiot in front of Tyson.”

  Ruby’s powder puff eyebrows pinched together. “Well, I’m sure Cole didn’t mean for you to end up in such an unflattering position. Was there something else he did to upset you, dear?”

  “Well, no, but…”

  The image of Cole stretched out on the floor beside her, trying to use his cell phone’s flashlight to assess the damage, drifted to mind. The look on his face hadn’t been amusement but concern. Maybe even a little fear.

  Fear of her reaction to the situation, and darn it if she hadn’t gone and given him plenty of reason to think that way tonight.

  Maddie groaned. “I did it again, I lost my temper. Ruby, why do I do that?”

  “It’s the way you’re wired, Madelyn. But the more aware of it you are, the harder you can work to contain it in the future.”

  “Maybe.” She shook her head, doubting very much she’d ever be able to fully control her temper. Yet another reason to stay tucked safely away in a kitchen—the pots and pans never got their feelings hurt when she ranted at them. “Guess I owe him an apology.”

  Kayla nodded. “Wait—you don’t think he’ll quit, too, do you?”

  Panic clawed at Maddie. He wouldn’t, would he? Leave her stranded like Sarah had?

  Only, the panic she felt now was different than when Sarah had left. The two women had never said much to each other that wasn’t work related; they’d never connected. But with Cole she’d begun to enjoy his company, looked forward to seeing him, spending time together with him. Heck, they’d even started playing name-that-tune on the radio each night during cleanup. Having fun.

  For him to quit would cost her more than a staff member; it’d be losing a friend.

  Ruby tsk-tsked as she leaned forward to give Maddie’s hand a soft pat. “I’m sure he will cool down by morning, dear.”

  “You think?”

  The innkeeper smiled. “If he’s anything like his grandfather, he will. Besides, someone determined to quit wouldn’t bother taking their boss’s wine to keep her safe from harm, now would they?”

  No, probably not. Still, the possibility nagged at her. She needed to talk to him, to apologize for being such a hothead and beg him to come back. And to thank him for looking out for her—something she wasn’t used to anyone but the Mastersons doing for her. But when?

  As usual, Ruby seemed to read her mind.

  “Why don’t you stop over there before the shop opens tomorrow?” the innkeeper said. “You’re long overdue a morning off anyway, dear.”

  “Thanks, Ruby.”

  “Of course, dear. Though, it would be a great help if you could stay a bit longer tonight and help fold the rest of these napkins. I can’t imagine how we ever got so far behind.”

  Kayla grinned, clearly sharing some secret with Ruby. Rather than ask, Maddie said she’d be happy to help and reached for a handful of the linen rectangles. Besides, listening to the others ramble about the goings-ons of the inn was a much better alternative to sitting at home, fretting about what she should say to Cole in the morning.

  If, that was, he’d even give her the time of day. She looked back toward the dark kitchen and hoped like crazy he was a forgiving soul.

  Kayla cleared her throat. “So, Maddie, tell us more about this Tyson guy…”

  Chapter Seven

  Cole sat in the hardware store’s office Wednesday morning, staring at the computer screen in disbelief. He’d received an email from Sheridan Realty shortly after eight a.m., instructing him to fill out their standard online application in order to complete his lease request. Eager to knock that out, he had run downstairs and dug right in.

  As the email had promised, it was a simple enough form. Address, phone number, emergency contacts, prior convictions or felonies…

  Wait, what?

  Cole re-read item number seven, then shoved back from the machine with a growl. Why? Why did it matter what his criminal record was? All he wanted to do was lease a storefront, bring some culture to downtown Mount Pleasant. Did it really matter that he’d seen the inside of a prison cell for far longer than he should have?

  He bent to rest both elbows on his knees, fighting the urge to vomit. Or throw something. Maybe a little of both.

  All those years he’d spent trying to look after his mom, to keep her off the streets and out of harm’s way. And how did she repay him? By falling off the wagon that last time, and falling hard. His failed rescue attempt had been warped into charges of armed robbery, and off to jail he’d gone. With no money for a lawyer, and then appointed what had to be the greenest public defender in all of Texas, jail is right where he stayed. Definitely not how he’d envisioned his eighteenth birthday going, or the following three birthdays after that. And though he’d served the time he’d been wrongfully mandated to do, and not once violated the three-years’ probation that followed, here he was facing punishment yet again. It just wasn’t fair.

  “Problems, son?”

  Cole turned to find his grandfather at the office door, steaming coffee mug in hand. He shook his head and pointed to the computer screen.

  “I was a fool to think I’d ever have a chance at normal. Doesn’t matter where I go, the past just keeps on following me. All thanks to my dear old ma.”

  His grandfather’s gaze slid to the screen. He pulled a pair of bifocals from his front shirt pocket, slipped them onto his nose as he drew closer, then bent to read over Cole’s shoulder.

  “Ah. I should have known that’d be part of their application. That question’s on just about everything nowadays.” He studied the screen a moment longer, then stepped back to take a drink from his coffee. “How much did you say rent was each month?”

  “Don’t.” Cole clicked off the web application and rose from the chair. “You’ve bailed me out more than enough as it is.”

  “Me signing the lease for you wouldn’t be bailing you out, it’d be helping you finally get your feet on the ground. You say you’d earn well enough to cover the cost, correct?”

  “I would, if I had a place to offer lessons. Maybe I should talk to Brent, see if he can help me build a shack to set up on the outskirts of town. Far away from anybody who cares whether or not some dumb kid from Texas has a rap sheet.”

  Old Tom chuckled. “Not sure that place exists, son. Not in these parts, anyway. Maybe it’s time to stop hiding from your past. Wrong or not, it’s a part of who you are. Eventually word is going to get out. And then what will you do? Pack up and leave town?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe I’ll just work doubly hard to make sure no one ever has reason to go looking for my past.”

  A throat cleared nearby. Both men spun to find Maddie standing just outside the office door. What on earth was she doing here?

  Oh God. She’s gonna fire me. He
looked to the ceiling. Could this day get any worse?

  The moment that thought entered his mind, Cole wished it hadn’t. Because as she stood there, looking about as uncomfortable as a minister in a whorehouse, a bigger worry took hold of his thoughts.

  Just how much had she heard?

  …

  Maddie stood peering into the office at Granville Supplies, feeling like an unwanted intruder on a private family moment. Cole rose from the room’s lone chair, looking like anything but a member of the hardware store staff in his usual bad boy attire of faded denim, black boots, and T-shirt combo. His grandfather, on the other hand, had on worn khakis and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Even so, the resemblance between them, she realized for the first time, was striking. Especially with them both standing there, cross-armed with brows furrowed. Judging from the looks on their faces, whatever discussion they’d been having wasn’t anything light and fluffy. Heck, judging from the daggers Cole’s gaze had aimed at her, she half wondered if they’d been talking about her deplorable behavior last night.

  She nearly turned tail and ran.

  But her conscience kept her rooted in place. She owed him an apology, darn it, no matter how angry he was with her right now. And rightfully so. The poor guy tries to make good on his word to help hook her up and what does she do? Give him the cold shoulder and then bark at his attempts at a sincere apology, no less.

  “Why, I’ve a chef in my shop, and during the breakfast rush, no less.” Tom Granville’s frown smoothed into a broad smile. “Landlord failing you again, sweetie?”

  She grinned. Only someone as old and genuinely kind as Mr. Granville could get away with calling a woman sweetie in this day and age.

  “Good morning, Mr. Granville. Actually, I was hoping to talk to Cole before his shift tonight.” Her gaze flashed briefly to his. “If he wouldn’t mind.”

  “Oh? My boy giving you trouble, Miss Maddie?”