Tessa's Teacakes

by Mary Manners

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” Colin leaned back in the chair, stretching the ache from his legs. He wasn’t sure he believed in God anymore. What kind of God would let his sister die—and so brutally—with no purpose that Colin could understand?

  “Oh, you’ll see.” Mattie’s gaze swept from him to Tessa, then back again as the coffeemaker gurgled and spit. The aroma of vanilla filled the room. “Tonight—your being here, Colin—it’s all part of God’s plan.”

  4

  “Get your coat. I’ll walk you home,” Colin said as Tessa cleared empty platters from the table. Suddenly she felt bone-deep exhaustion take over.

  “I don’t have a coat.” She slipped a soiled apron over her head and tossed it into a box beneath the counter. “And I’m a big girl. I can walk myself home.”

  “Stubborn as the day is long.” He huffed under his breath, gathering coffee cups and tossing them into the trash can. Mattie, Kate and Logan, Grace and Brent, had left, so now only he and Tessa remained. “Let me get that.”

  She relinquished a flat of fresh-baked teacakes to him and watched as he restocked the pastry case. The morning rush was just a few hours away, and Mattie would return to open Sweet Treats while Tessa caught a few hours of sleep. “That looks good.”

  Colin slid the tray back into its stand. “Anything else?”

  “No.” Tessa shook her head and switched off the display lights one by one, then the overhead shop lights. A single exit sign glowed red above the kitchen door. “I guess that’s it.”

  “Take this.” Colin handed her his rain slicker. “It’ll swallow you up, but at least you’ll stay warm while we walk.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll be OK.” He shrugged and eyed her. “I have a lot more meat on my bones than you do.”

  She wouldn’t say meat…more like muscles, and lots of them. Her gaze swept the length of him. At five-nine she was the tallest of the sisters, yet Colin still towered over her. “Point taken.”

  “Here, let me.” He helped her into the coat and laughed when her hands disappeared inside the sleeves. The hem brushed the ground and she gathered the jacket at the waist like a ball gown.

  “Not exactly high fashion.” The giggles felt good, and the knot in Tessa’s belly loosened just a bit. She shrugged the tug of exhaustion from her shoulders and neck and rubbed stiffness from her legs. “But it is warm.”

  “Told you so.”

  “Yes, you did.” They slipped through the bakery’s entrance and Colin waited while Tessa locked the door. The storm had moved out, unveiling a velvet canvas of sky studded with winking stars. Tessa’s breath billowed out in delicate white puffs as she spoke. The crisp, cool air heightened Tessa’s senses. The musky scent of mums wafted on the breeze, mingling with hay bales and cornstalks that decorated shop fronts along the boulevard. “Now tell me something else, Colin. I don’t believe you came here just because Mount Ridge is growing.”

  The statement seemed to startle him, and his gaze narrowed as they started down the boulevard. Moonlight bathed the curve of his jaw, the crease along his forehead. “Cynical, aren’t you?”

  Tessa shrugged as the breeze lifted the hem of the rain slicker and nipped her bare toes. It was time to trade the sandals for socks and boots; the cooler days of fall were upon them. “Just stating the obvious.”

  Colin remained silent for several paces as their shoes clicked along the cobblestone, then he jammed his hands into the pockets of his police-issue navy pants. “My sister was murdered,” he murmured.

  “What? Oh!” The admission set Tessa off-kilter. Definitely not the direction she expected him to go. Her head snapped up, and she locked gazes with him. “How?”

  “Convenience store holdup. Bailey usually worked afternoons, but she was filling in on the night shift. Some thug came in waving a gun, and she didn’t hand over the money fast enough.”

  “Oh, Colin.” Tessa’s heart gasped. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Me, too.” Colin’s voice was suddenly thick and strained, and Tessa knew the cost of his admission. His shoulder brushed hers as they continued down the boulevard. “She was working her way through college, wanted to be a teacher for special-needs kids. Would have been a good one, too.”

  A lump filled Tessa’s throat. “How long ago?”

  “A year…last summer.”

  ****

  It still hurt. Bailey’s loss, whenever he thought of her, which was daily, tore Colin’s heart to shreds. It was like a replay of a bad movie scene, but he couldn’t hit stop. He tried to imagine what her last moments were like, wondered what she thought as the gun exploded. Then he chided himself. Did he really want to know?

  He blamed God. Bailey was a good kid—never got into trouble, never gave their parents grief. She’d set a goal and worked hard to accomplish it. And though he’d warned her about the danger of clerking at a convenience store, especially in the wee hours of the night, his advice had fallen on deaf ears. Bailey was young—and she felt invincible. To her, holdups were just something that happened on the ten o’clock news. Besides, with her perky smile and take-charge attitude, she figured she could reason her way out of anything.

  Colin glanced at Tessa. Her cheeks had pinked in the chill, and he knew her feet must be freezing in the sandals that were revealed with each flap of the rain slicker’s hem. Why was he sharing this with her? He hadn’t told anyone how much he missed his sister—not even his parents.

  “Do you like pasta?” Tessa asked, and Colin welcomed the sudden change of topic. He hunched his shoulders as the wind kicked up. Tessa’s hair danced over her shoulders and across her eyes, and she brushed it back with delicate fingers.

  “Yeah. Who doesn’t?” He slowed his pace a bit so she could keep up as they crossed the boulevard and turned right at the corner. “Why do you ask?”

  “It’s the only real food I know how to make, and I’d like to cook you dinner.”

  “Why?” He gave her a sidelong glance as he surveyed the street ahead of them. Rows of houses lining either side of the road were dark, and sleepy front lawns glowed beneath winking stars. Here and there an abandoned bike toppled on the front lawn and a battered skateboard splayed wheels-up. The aroma of grilled steaks and smoldering charcoal lingered.

  Tessa craned her neck to glare at him. “You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”

  He shrugged. “Comes with the territory.”

  “Well, don’t go getting any ideas or anything,” Tessa chided, “because I plan on leaving Mount Ridge soon enough. I got a job offer in New York City.”

  “You did?” Colin’s gaze swept back to her, and he felt a sudden flash of disappointment. Tessa’s impulsiveness was dangerous as a firecracker with a short fuse, but he sensed something more lurked beneath that stubborn exterior, and it might be interesting to draw it out. “You do?”

  “Yeah, and keep that under your hat, if you don’t mind. I haven’t told my sisters yet.”

  “The four of you seem very close.”

  Tessa fiddled with a button on the rain slicker, then found his leather gloves in the side pocket and tugged them on. They dwarfed her slender hands. “We are. So?”

  A dog yapped in the distance, and Colin rubbed his arms to stave off a chill. “So why haven’t you told them yet?”

  Tessa rolled her eyes. “That’s another story, best saved for another day.” She gathered the collar of the jacket tighter and picked up her pace. “I just figured you might like a nice meal…and I’d like to thank you for not throwing me in the slammer tonight.”

  “Whoa.” Colin paused and doubled over. His laughter echoed down the sleepy street. The scrunch of Tessa’s forehead, the way her eyes widened, coupled with visions of Mayberry, tossed Colin’s reservations about getting to know her better right out the window. “The slammer?”

  “Yes.” Tessa nodded stiffly and gave him a hip-check that would have made a pro-hockey player proud. “Quit laughing.”

  “Sorry.” He coughe
d, gasped, and found his footing. He resumed walking, and Tessa fell in step beside him.

  “And you should know…” The words came in a rush, and her pace quickened to match the flow. “Grace already lost one husband to an accident, and losing Brent, well, it would kill her, too. So…”

  “Enough said.” Colin sobered quickly. “I get the picture, and I guess that helps me to understand your renegade attitude.”

  “Renegade…”

  “You heard me, Tessa.” He wagged a finger at her. “You could have been hurt tonight, busting into the crisis center the way you did. You got lucky.”

  “Oh, give it a rest.” Tessa groaned. “Now you sound like Mattie.”

  “At least your sister has some sense about her.”

  “And I don’t?”

  “Not by the looks of it.” Colin held up a hand as she began to protest, same as he did while directing traffic. “Look, next time just let me take care of things, OK?”

  She grimaced. “I hope there won’t be a next time.”

  “At least that’s one thing we can agree on.” He sighed. “And pasta sounds great, by the way. When, where, and what time?”

  “Questions, questions.” Tessa gnawed her bottom lip. “Tomorrow night? My house, six o’clock?”

  “Let me check.” Colin drew his cell phone from his pocket, mimed checking for appointments. “Hmm, my massive social calendar appears…completely empty for tomorrow night.”

  “Lucky for you.” Tessa slowed as they reached a small, neat frame house, complete with a pretty, white picket fence. “I make a mean marinara sauce.”

  “Oh, I’ll bet you do.”

  “Here’s my stop.”

  The house sat dark, except for a small glow coming from one of the side rooms. “You live alone?”

  “Uh-uh.” Tessa turned and started up the walk. Colin followed. He made a quick visual sweep of the property, and nothing set off his radar. His shoulders loosened. A burst of mums filled the flowerbeds along the front of the house and their musky scent tickled his nose. “Mattie’s probably reading in bed, waiting until she hears me come in.”

  “Good. I’ll sleep better tonight, knowing you’re not alone.”

  “Oh, I’m not alone.” She peeled off his gloves and shrugged out of his rain slicker as they reached the porch. Two rocking chairs sat on either side of the front door, and he imagined the sisters sharing a late-afternoon cup of coffee and some good conversation. “No worries…Mattie’s like a mama bear. No one gets by her.”

  “No one but you, right, Tess?”

  He heard her slight intake of breath, noted the way her gaze softened beneath the moonlight. Her teeth chattered as the wind gusted, carrying the scent of mulched leaves and pine. She fumbled in her pocket for a house key. “No one has called me Tess since…”

  Colin waited, but she let the thought linger unfinished. She slipped the key into the lock and the deadbolt clicked. He reached around her and gave the door a slight push, glanced inside the tidy living room. Magazines blanketed the coffee table and chubby throw pillows dotted the couch. All seemed quiet—and safe. “See you tomorrow?”

  “Yes, tomorrow.” Tessa stepped through the doorway, turned to nod. The soft scent of her perfume drifted and her hair brushed his arm. “Thank you for walking me home. Goodnight, Colin.”

  He gulped hard, wondered what the sudden tug on his heart meant, and found his voice. “Good night, Tess. Sleep well.”

  5

  Colin arrived right on time—no surprise there. Tessa figured cops had some kind of internal clock, and probably an internal radar, as well, judging from the number of times she’d been pulled over for speeding between Knoxville and Mount Ridge.

  “Come in,” Tessa called as the bell rang. Butterflies dipped and danced in her belly when she heard his boots cross the wood floor. “I’m in the kitchen.”

  “How did you know it was me?” His frame filled the doorway, and he frowned at her, his eyes like slate bullets. “Do you always leave the front door unlocked?”

  She shrugged and added a pinch of salt to a pot of boiling water. “Why not?”

  He leaned against the door frame. “Because it’s dangerous, that’s why.”

  “I knew you were coming.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re not dangerous, are you?”

  “The jury’s still out.” His gaze grazed her, toes to forehead, and Tessa thought maybe she’d underestimated him. The gleam in his eyes radiated danger…of a different variety. “We’ll just have to see.”

  The playful nip of his tone made her shiver. Tessa swallowed hard. “Pour yourself a glass of sweet tea, then grab a knife and slice the bread.”

  He ambled into the room, took a glass from the counter, and hit the dispenser on the refrigerator. Ice tinkled as he poured tea over the cubes and drew a sample, then smacked his lips. “Perfect.”

  “Thanks. It’s probably the last of the sun tea…getting too cold to brew out on the deck.”

  He sidled up to her and reached for a knife and the cutting board. The scent of soap and an undertone of aftershave spoke purely male. “Did you make the bread? It still feels warm.”

  “It wasn’t hard.” Tessa nodded and kept her hands busy stirring the marinara sauce. Her fingers trembled as her pulse kicked up a notch, and she chided herself for acting like a school girl. “Old family recipe.”

  He began to slice thick hunks off the loaf. “I gather you have plenty of those.”

  “There’s always room for more.” The scent of him mingled with sweet yeast from the bread, making Tessa a bit lightheaded. Maybe it was the heat of steam rising from the boiling water meant to soften linguini noodles, but suddenly the room felt oh-so-warm. She stepped back from the stove and reached for her tea. “I like experimenting with different forms of cookies.”

  “Like the teacakes you made last night?”

  “Uh-huh.” Tessa unwrapped a platter beside the pitcher on the counter. “Here’s another variety—strawberries and chocolate.”

  Colin leaned over the plate, sniffed. “They smell delicious.” He took one, bit into it. “Taste great, too.”

  “I’m pretty good with sweets.” She delved into one and sighed, willing her heart rate to steady. “Oh, they are good.”

  Colin tossed the sliced bread into a basket. “Where’s Mattie tonight?”

  “She went back to Sweet Treats to work stock.” Tessa stirred the linguini. “I invited her to eat with us, but she declined. She thinks you’re a package direct from the hands of God himself.”

  “A package?” Colin laughed. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but never…well…that.”

  “I’m paraphrasing, but the sentiment’s the same.”

  “She might believe God sent me.” Colin leaned against the counter. “But I’m not sure I believe in God anymore.”

  “No?” Tessa choked on a sip of tea. “But you did once? What happened?”

  He shrugged. “Life.”

  “Well, don’t let Mattie hear you talk that way. She’ll give you a tongue-lashing that will leave you blistered.”

  He picked up the spoon she’d set on the stove top, delved into the sauce, blew on a bite, tasted. “Mmmm…better than good.”

  “Told you.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “I’m not intimidated by Mattie.”

  “You should be.”

  Colin set down the spoon, grabbed a pair of tongs, gave the salad a light toss. “Maybe Mattie doesn’t know what it’s like to lose someone—to have them ripped right from her—there one day, and gone the next.” He snapped his fingers.

  “Oh, I think she does.” Tessa took the bowl from him and set it on the table. If anyone knew about loss it was Mattie. She’d taken on the brunt of responsibility when their parents died, and Tessa often wondered if Mattie hadn’t just lost their parents…but the opportunity to find a true love of her own when she traded dating for time working in the bakery…and with Tessa. “One thing I know with absolute certainty�
��you don’t have the market on grief, Colin.”

  ****

  Colin heard the hitch in her voice and followed her to the table. “What do you mean?”

  Tessa shook her head as her eyes welled with tears. She pulled open a drawer, grabbed a handful of silverware. “Let’s not talk about it now.”

  He hesitated, then took the utensils from her and set them on the table. “Later?”

  She nodded stiffly, and turned to stir the linguini once more.

  “Promise?”

  Again, the nod. She brushed away tears with the back of her hand and sniffled. “I don’t mean to be a crybaby.”

  “Nothing wrong with a good cry.” He’d certainly had his fair share over the past year. Yet the sadness in her eyes made Colin yearn to draw her into his arms and soothe the hurt. “The noodles are done. You want me to drain this?”

  “Yeah.”

  Steam billowed while he dumped the linguini into a metal colander she’d set in the sink. Plates clattered as she drew two from a cabinet and set them on the table along with the silverware. Colin watched her as he worked, noted the slight tremble of her bottom lip. He thought about kissing her…

  Tessa's Teacakes

  “I’m sorry it’s not fancy, Colin.” Her voice startled the thought from his head. What was wrong with him…thinking about kissing her? He must have hit his head when while tackling Jason Sloane yesterday.

  “I don’t need fancy.” He added a few paper napkins to the plates and silverware and transferred their drinks from the counter to the table, willing the tumult in his gut to ease. “It sure smells good.”

  “It’s a safe bet—pasta. Not much that can go wrong with a pile of noodles, some ground beef and tomato sauce.”

  “Here.” He filled a plate for her, spooned a thick layer of sauce over the noodles, and then did the same for himself. “It’s almost like dinner by candlelight, the way the sun’s setting outside your kitchen window.” There he went again…thinking of candlelight.