Bed was an excellent idea, so she got out and dried off.
The phone rang again and she checked. It wasn’t her father—it showed the caller ID was unavailable.
No way was she answering it. She needed sleep, and her imagination was already working overtime. There wasn’t any reason to connect the calls to the anonymous complaint and motorcycle incident, but knowing and believing it were two different things.
* * *
KURT HAD A small side business repairing and servicing diesel engines, and he stayed late, catching up on work, only to be ready to spit nails when he got home and found the message from his daughter. More than anything he wanted to go over to the house and check on her, but Sarah had said she was going to bed.
He accessed the voice mail for his missing cell phone, his concern escalating at a message from Uncle Milt, one of his father’s younger siblings.
“It’s Uncle Milt. I heard on my police scanner about an incident involving Sarah near the bank. She isn’t hurt, but a motorcycle knocked her over and took off. There’s also some question about whether it was an attempted robbery. Call if you want to talk. I’ll be up late.”
Kurt stared at the phone. Attempted robbery? Why hadn’t Sarah told him that part? He paced the floor, arguing with himself about what he should do.
Finally he dialed Uncle Milt.
“Hello,” boomed Milt Fullerton after two rings.
“It’s Kurt. Thanks for letting me know about Sarah. She left a message but didn’t give much detail. Do they really think someone was trying to rob her?”
“From what I heard on the scanner, witnesses thought it was a possibility. Don’t stress too much. Zach was on the scene, and he’ll take care of whatever needs doing. Besides, knowing Sarah, a whole lot more fuss was made over it than she likes.”
“All too true.” Sarah didn’t appreciate being the center of attention. “Thanks for the info.”
“No problem.”
Kurt’s mood was grim as he disconnected.
It was typical that Sarah didn’t want him to worry, but when would she realize that he wanted to know if something was wrong, no matter what? He needed to know. She was his daughter; protecting her was his job, not the other way around. He couldn’t make up for being a lousy dad when she was a child, but he could do his best to be there for her now.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING started with a bang when Sarah found her father waiting at the bakery at her usual 4:00 a.m. arrival time.
“Is something wrong, Dad?”
“Wrong?” he repeated, his tone filled with disbelief. “Your message didn’t mention that the motorcycle driver tried to rob you, before running you over and escaping the scene. Uncle Milt provided that little tidbit.”
She winced. “Don’t exaggerate. Nobody ran over me, and the rest is speculation. The rider could have lost control, then panicked when I fell.”
“Maybe, but we should ask the police department to run extra patrols around your business and the house.”
“Dad, I don’t need extra police patrols. Even if it was an attempted theft—which is questionable—they were after my bank deposit, not my glass paperweight collection. Don’t overreact.”
“I don’t overreact.”
Sarah snickered. “Oh, yeah? When you came home on leave when I was a kid, you’d drag me to the doctor if I so much as sneezed or skinned my knee. Everything got blown out of proportion, and nothing has changed.”
“I just want you to be okay.”
“I was fine then and I’m fine now, but you need sleep,” she ordered. “You can snooze in the office. Put your feet up and get some rest.” She would have sent him upstairs to the apartment above the shop, but it wasn’t furnished.
Her father disappeared down the hallway, and Sarah quickly set to work. Four and a half hours later, the last batch of food had left for Poppy Gold, her dad had eaten and gone, and the shop’s shelves and displays cases were filled, ready for their first customers. But she couldn’t relax. They had hors d’oeuvres to make for the reception that evening. And now the Lindors wanted a prime rib and salmon dinner for ninety-seven people?
Sarah wrinkled her nose.
She’d heard from her supplier. Prime rib was always available, and he’d just gotten a shipment of wild salmon. But she would have to pick up the order herself, which meant a special trip to Stockton the next morning. Reluctantly she dialed her cousin’s office at Poppy Gold Inns.
“Hey, Sarah. Do you have good news for the Lindors?” Tessa asked when she answered.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Tessa chuckled. “I know it’s a pain, but thank you. I’ll transfer the payment immediately.”
The sound of a child babbling “Mama, Mama, Mama” came over the line, and Sarah smiled.
“When did Merri learn to say Mama?” she asked. Merri was Tessa’s daughter, a toddler who was the darling of the Poppy Gold staff.
“Oh, that’s right, you missed the big event. A few weeks ago, she stood up during Grandpa George’s sermon, pointed at me in the choir loft and shrieked Mama, but she hasn’t come out with Daddy, much to Gabe’s dismay. I keep explaining to her that even Dada would be enough to make him happy.”
“I’m sure she’ll get that next. Give her a kiss for me.”
Sarah got off the phone and let her staff know that the Saturday evening meal was officially a go, then returned to her baking.
Soon, loads of food would start going over to the historic Glimmer Creek Concert Hall where the reception was being held. Poppy Gold handled decorating and did all the setup, so mostly the catering staff just needed to refill the food platters as needed.
“Are you okay?” the shift supervisor asked as Sarah swallowed an aspirin.
“I’m fine. A headache is all,” she fibbed.
She was achy from the previous evening, but she was trying to downplay the incident with her staff, not wanting motorcyclists to get an even worse reputation than they already had in Glimmer Creek.
* * *
KURT WAS STILL WORRIED about his daughter when he returned to the bakery at midmorning.
The kitchen was frantically busy, and he didn’t try to speak with her, instead slipping into the office to chat with Rosemary. “Did you hear what happened to Sarah last night?” he asked, sitting down.
“Yes. She hasn’t said much about it, but Tyler saw everything and told me. He was here to talk about the remodeling.”
“What remodeling?”
“The building inspector told Sarah yesterday that the county building codes are changing. She’ll need more space in the kitchens and another exit in the back, that sort of thing. He’s sending a full report in a few days.”
Kurt didn’t like hearing there was another problem he hadn’t known about, though to be fair, it could have slipped Sarah’s mind after nearly being robbed. At any rate, he’d get the family together to handle the renovations, and she could use the commercial kitchens at Poppy Gold while it was being done. His niece would be happy to help out, and Sarah already used their kitchens whenever she catered a meal.
“Is there anything else I should know?” he asked.
Rosemary looked uncertain for a moment. “Well, Sarah is going to Stockton in the morning to get supplies for a last-minute dinner at Poppy Gold. Her grocery supplier has fresh salmon available, but they can’t get it to Glimmer Creek in time, so she has to pick it up herself, along with prime rib and a load of produce.”
In spite of Kurt’s concerns, he was pleased to learn there was a way he could help. “I’ll take care of it. Would you or Nathan like to drive with me?”
“I’d love to, but Nathan is the one who needs an outing. I’m afraid he won’t be in the best of moods, though. Tyler is taking him to see a doctor today, and he isn’t h
appy about it. If you could convince him to go with you, I’d be awfully grateful.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Kurt assured her. “Then when I get back tomorrow, why don’t I show you Poppy Gold’s Victorian greenhouse? You haven’t seen it yet.”
* * *
“I’D LOVE TO,” Rosemary said. She smiled determinedly. She’d felt ill ever since Tyler had spoken to his brother about the possibility of returning to active duty. It would be nice to have a distraction on her days off.
At least Kurt understood what Nathan was going through. It seemed to help her son to spend time with someone who’d seen war and the destruction it caused...someone who’d come out whole on the other side.
“I still can’t find my cell,” Kurt explained, “but I’ll call from work and let you know if Nathan decides to join me.”
“Check around your driver’s seat for the phone,” Rosemary suggested. “That’s where I always find mine. They slide into the oddest places.”
“Good idea.” He got up. “I’ll tell Sarah I’m getting that fish. I wish people wouldn’t order it. She’s allergic to seafood and gets sick at the smell alone.”
Rosemary blinked. Sarah hadn’t mentioned she had a problem with fish. “There’s bound to be odor, even in a cooler.”
“Yup. She has special cold boxes to use when needed, just for salmon, so there won’t be any chance of cross-contamination. She even has one of her chefs prepare it in a separate kitchen.”
Whenever Kurt talked about his daughter, pride welled from every word.
“I’d better get going,” he said. “They want extra flowers for that reception tonight at Poppy Gold.”
He left the door open, and Rosemary could hear him in the kitchen telling his daughter that he would take care of the trip to Stockton.
“No,” Sarah refused promptly. “It’s my responsibility.”
“Of course it is, sweetheart. But I need a few things for my repair shop, and I may as well kill two birds with one stone.”
Rosemary grinned at the excuse. It was unlikely he had a desperate need for anything since he drove to Stockton weekly.
“You’re just making that up.”
Rosemary’s grin widened; obviously Sarah didn’t believe him, either.
“No, I’m not,” Kurt protested. “Besides, I’m inviting Nathan Prentiss to go with me. We have the best conversations. Some things have changed in the army since I retired, while others are just the same.”
“Oh. Well, I’ll pay for your gas.”
“We can discuss it later. Love you, sweetheart.”
A minute later, Sarah came into the office. “Did you hear?” she asked. “Dad is insisting on picking up the supplies instead of me. He’s like a tornado sometimes.”
“It makes him happy to help,” Rosemary said softly. “At least he can do more for you than I can do for Nathan.”
“Nathan isn’t improving?”
“He has good and bad days. I wanted to give him space here at Poppy Gold—he was adamant that all he needed was peace and quiet—but I don’t think he’s even doing the exercises to strengthen his leg. Having your father to talk to is boosting his spirits, but he needs more than a confidant.”
“I told Tyler that Dr. Romano at the Glimmer Creek clinic has experience with combat veterans.”
“So I heard. He’s taking Nathan there this afternoon.” Rosemary fought back guilt. Once again she was relying on her eldest son to handle things instead of taking care of them herself. She’d truly believed that Nathan wasn’t improving at the rehab center, but she also should have been more assertive about him getting medical support here.
Not that feeling guilty was anything new, especially when it came to Tyler. They should have seen his birth as a precious gift after Kittie died. Instead they’d dreaded the possibility of losing another child. Was that why he’d been such a sober, self-contained little boy? It wasn’t that he hadn’t been wanted, but he’d come too soon, before they could deal with their grief.
“You can take time off if you want to take Nathan yourself or go with them,” Sarah said, breaking into Rosemary’s thoughts.
“Thanks, but that would probably disturb Nathan even more.”
“All right. I’d better get back to the kitchen now. The Lindor family ordered a mountain of food for their reception.” Sarah smiled and walked out of the office.
Rosemary was grateful that Sarah was so nice. She could have gotten angry that Kurt had learned about the trip to Stockton. Perhaps telling him had been wrong, but Rosemary knew how unhappy he’d be to discover, too late, that there was something he could have done for his daughter.
She pursed her lips.
Her job wasn’t important to her because of the money—it was just important. She could contribute something to make things easier for Sarah, and it was a gift to feel useful, particularly since she didn’t feel that way with her sons. She was desperately proud of Tyler and Nathan, but neither wanted to hear it.
CHAPTER SIX
TYLER WAS PLEASED when his drafting table and other basic supplies arrived late in the morning. He would focus on his commissions whenever his mom and brother didn’t need him.
His mother had suggested using the extra upstairs bedroom as an office, so Tyler set up his equipment by a south-facing window that overlooked the garden and the California hillsides beyond. It didn’t have all the amenities he was used to, but it would be a good place to work on his contract with a group of developers. They’d purchased a tract of land with a private lake and wanted to build a commercial fishing lodge.
Yet before he could start working, an email arrived from the law office in Chicago, letting him know an article about the building collapse had just been published in a leading trade magazine. Tyler went to the website and frowned as he read. The author refrained from blaming anyone, while stating “prominent architect Tyler Prentiss” was connected to the investigation.
Well, at least Tyler knew his legal team was keeping on top of everything.
At lunch, Rosemary returned and reported that Sarah was cooking frantically and didn’t appear affected by her brush with the motorcyclist. Tyler admired her grit, if not her refusal to accept that someone had tried to snatch the sweet shop’s cash.
“I hope she’ll be more careful when taking her deposits to the bank from now on,” he commented.
“Me, too. At least she won’t be going there tonight. We’ll be too busy because of the catering job, so she’ll have to do it before opening tomorrow,” Rosemary explained.
Tyler made a mental note to go by Sarah’s Sweet Treats in the morning. If Sarah had such a predictable pattern, she’d be an easy target, morning or evening. Then he shook his head—he wasn’t a protector like his brother, he was an architect. And Sarah probably wouldn’t appreciate an attempt at chivalry.
Nonetheless, Tyler found himself across the street from the bakery the next morning, sitting on a bench and drinking a cup of coffee, arguing to himself that he was just making up for the way he’d behaved his first day in Glimmer Creek.
At any rate, he preferred it to waiting for the next call from a client wanting to cancel or “suspend” their contract with him. The calls had started late the previous afternoon, prompted by the article; nobody wanted their projects to be tainted by the faintest hint of scandal.
At 8:30 a.m., Sarah stepped out of her shop, carrying another large envelope. Tyler stood and crossed the street as she locked the door behind her. “Are you doing better after your tumble on Thursday?” he asked.
She whirled around. “Did you have to sneak up on me?”
“I didn’t sneak. And considering what happened, you ought to be more aware of your surroundings.”
“Still convinced the motorcyclist targeted me?”
“More than ever. C
ome on, I’ll walk you to the bank, and you can try to persuade me that I didn’t see what I know I saw.”
Sarah made a noise of derision as he fell into step next to her. “Yeah, you obviously have an open mind about it.”
“More open than you, and I’m not the one who was nearly robbed.”
“That’s my problem, isn’t it?”
Tyler shrugged. “Sure, but a robbery would have upset my mother, and I’m concerned about her getting stressed out.”
* * *
SARAH DIDN’T DOUBT it would have upset Rosemary. It was irritating...now that Tyler had declared his mother was fragile, Sarah was seeing hints he was right to a certain degree. Regardless, she didn’t think her new office manager was ready to have a breakdown, just because Rosemary tended to be anxious about things.
Who could blame her with everything going on?
Life had a way of dishing out good things and trials in large scoops. Sarah remembered when Aunt Meredith had died. Shortly after that, a friend from Los Angeles had been killed in a hit-and-run collision, and a great-aunt had gone through a stem cell transplant for a condition nobody in Glimmer Creek had ever heard of. It got to the point that Sarah had hated answering the phone.
Losing her husband must have been the hardest blow to Rosemary. Uncle Liam had lived in a fog for almost two years after Aunt Meredith’s death, though he was much better now that his daughter was happily married with a little girl of her own.
Hmm... Since Rosemary had spoken longingly of grandkids several times, she might respond the same way if her sons cooperated.
“What are you grinning about?” Tyler asked, sounding suspicious. “You look like a cat caught with cream on its whiskers.”
“I was just thinking your mom would benefit if one of her sons got married and started a family.”
“You’re my brother’s type. Are you volunteering?”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “I’m not a ‘type.’ Besides, while I’d love to have kids, I used to be married to a manipulative creep. It wasn’t an experience I’d care to repeat. Maybe someday I’ll meet someone who’s open and honest, who I can tr...” Her voice trailed off. She’d already revealed more than she’d intended.
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