by Karen Kirst
“I know my issues are putting you in a difficult position.” He scrubbed his hand down his face. “I know it, and yet I can’t help how I feel. I’m sorry.”
“You’re willing to try, though.”
“I’m willing to try. For you.” He once again considered her midsection. “And for your baby.”
Ellie couldn’t help herself. She rose up on tiptoe and hugged him.
And for the briefest of moments, he hugged her back.
His arms were strong, his broad chest a steady support. Her head fit perfectly in the curve beneath his chin. His sudsy-clean scent flooded her system with pleasant sensation. Alexander felt like home, a wonderful, warm place of acceptance.
Too soon, he gently peeled her arms away.
Bewildered by the depth of her longing to remain in his embrace, she quipped, “I suppose hugging my boss breaks the rules.”
Clasping his hands behind his back, he regarded her as one would a troublesome child.
“You will be taking the morning shift off from now until March.”
“I can’t afford to have my pay cut!”
“You won’t.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Expectant women need more rest than usual, especially in the later months.”
Ellie dearly wanted to pry. She had so many questions about his past. What had his wife been like? And here she’d assumed he hadn’t ever courted a lady. He’d been a husband and, for a brief time, a father.
“I appreciate your concern, but I can’t abandon Flo. She can’t handle the breakfast rush alone.”
“She won’t be alone. I’ll help her.”
“You?”
“I can do the secondary preparation and the dish washing while Flo does the actual cooking.” At her continued skepticism, he said, “That’s the deal, Ellie. Take it or leave it.”
Seemed she didn’t have a choice.
* * *
Alexander’s steps were measured as he approached the McKennas’ place. The reason for his visit was a valid one, but he wasn’t accustomed to seeking out others’ help, not in his former life or this semblance of one he’d crafted.
The stately green Victorian home was situated amid old-growth trees. Meticulous flower beds hugged the foundation. It used to belong to Caroline’s parents, the Turners. They’d given it to the newlyweds before relocating to Virginia. This was a house built for large families...he had no doubt the blissful couple planned to fill the rooms with their offspring.
Ellie’s impending motherhood had knocked the wind from his sails. He’d reacted poorly. It wasn’t until after she’d gone that he’d considered the impact this would have on her life. He’d thought only of his own discomfort. Instead of congratulating her, he’d promptly fired her.
His selfish behavior shamed him. This wasn’t the man he’d been raised to be. For the first time since the fire that claimed his wife and son, he wondered what Sarah would think about the decisions he’d made.
“Good afternoon.” An elderly man of Native American heritage rounded the corner of the house with bunches of yellow and orange mums in his arms. His wispy black hair bounced with each step. “I’m Wendell. May I help you?”
Alexander lifted a hand in greeting. “Afternoon. The name’s Alexander Copeland. I’m looking for Duncan. Is he around?”
“He’s in the stables. I’ll take you to him.”
The man led him past the house to the long rectangular building in the back. Duncan was leading a dappled gray horse out of the nearest entrance.
“Alexander.” He stopped short. “Is everything all right at the Plum?”
“There’s no emergency. I, ah, have a matter I’d like to discuss with you.”
“Certainly.” He thanked Wendell, dismissing him, and motioned for Alexander to walk with him toward the paddocks. “What’s troubling you?”
“It’s that obvious?”
“You wouldn’t have paid me a visit otherwise.”
His attention on the distant orchard, he pushed out the words. “Ellie’s going to have a baby.”
Saying it out loud cinched the knot in the middle of his chest even tighter. He should’ve pieced the puzzle together sooner. The idea of her experiencing the highs and lows of pregnancy, of actually bringing a child into the world all on her own did strange things to his head.
Duncan let loose a low whistle. “Is she now?”
“Yes.”
“And that prompted you to come here because...”
“She doesn’t have the best relationship with her in-laws. In fact, it’s best if she stays away from them, which means she lacks a means of support. A young woman like her...a recent widow, alone and expecting her first child, she’ll need friends.”
They reached the paddock gate, and Duncan led the horse inside. Alexander waited for him to rejoin him. The Scotsman’s blue gaze assessed him from beneath his Stetson.
“Why has this rattled you?”
“There are things you don’t know about me.”
He barked out a laugh. “No one knows much more than your name. That’s the way you’ve wanted it.”
“It’s what I prefer,” he responded stiffly. “No reason in airing my mistakes before a town full of busybodies.”
“’Tis true that some folks would jump at a bit of juicy gossip like wolves on a carcass. No’ all, though. There are good people here, Alexander. People who’d offer you true friendship.”
“This isn’t about me. I came to ask a favor for Ellie.”
He cocked his head. “Does she ken you’re here?”
“No.”
He considered that. “What would you like us to do?”
“I was wondering if Caroline could befriend her. Maybe introduce her to other young ladies her age.”
“As the head of the Benevolence Society, most of her time is devoted to charitable endeavors.” Leaning against the fence, he folded his arms and lodged one boot on a lower rung. “However, she’s on a first-name basis with most of the women in Gatlinburg. I’ll talk to her. She likes Ellie. I’m certain she’ll be happy to help.”
The tension in Alexander’s gut eased. Ellie was a likable person. She wouldn’t have trouble forming lasting bonds. He tried to imagine how Sarah would’ve coped with raising a child alone. He couldn’t fathom it. She’d been a dependent sort. He hadn’t minded being her strength and support in the beginning—it had fed into his ego. But no one man could be everything to his wife, and he’d wound up feeling discouraged and even resentful.
He couldn’t help admiring Ellie’s courage.
“Do you ken if Ellie’s got marriage on her mind?”
“Her husband’s only been gone a few months.”
“She may view it as a matter of necessity. Ellie’s far from home. She has no family, at least none she can count on. I widnae be surprised if she’s considered the notion.”
Alexander refused to examine why the notion unsettled him. “I have no idea. She hasn’t mentioned it.”
Not that she was prone to sharing her private thoughts with him. He wondered exactly when she’d been planning on telling him about the baby. Until she’d grown too big to hide it any longer?
Shaking off the ridiculous twinge of hurt—because really, he hadn’t fostered an open, trusting relationship with her—he removed his hat and fanned his heated face.
“Ellie is a fine woman,” he admitted. “Any of the local bachelors would be blessed to have her as a wife.”
“Including you?” Duncan prompted.
“I’m not getting married again.” Ever.
“Again?”
Alexander closed his eyes. “I was married once. She died.”
He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. “You have my condolences.”<
br />
Opening his eyes, he encountered compassion in the other man’s gaze. Putting his hat back on, he nodded, grateful when the Scotsman didn’t press for details.
“Caroline’s out at the pond resting from our afternoon ride. Care to join us?”
“No, thank you.” He hadn’t forgotten what it was like to be a newlywed. Privacy with one’s spouse was something to be treasured. “I’ve got to get home.”
But to what? No one awaited his return, not even a pet.
That hadn’t bothered him until recent days. Until Ellie. With her innocent doe eyes, engaging smile and generous spirit, she had drawn him into her world and made him care...a circumstance he wasn’t at all comfortable with or even happy about. As the ice protecting his heart thawed, the numbing effect lost its potency and the grief lying dormant clawed to the surface.
He’d intended to avoid dealing with his tragedy. Had he known the consequences Ellie’s appointment as his cook would wreak, Alexander might’ve hung a For Sale sign in the window and moved to parts unknown.
Chapter Seven
“You feeling okay, boss?” Hugging the egg basket to her chest, Flo looked as if he’d just announced he was running for president.
“Where’s Ellie?” Sally twisted her hands together. “She didn’t quit, did she?”
Alexander sucked in a bolstering breath and continued rolling up his shirtsleeves. “I’m fine, Flo. And no, Ellie did not quit. As you both are aware, she’s been working herself a bit too hard lately. I’ve given her the mornings off for the foreseeable future.”
Flo’s knuckles went white on the basket handle.
Sally gasped. “But who’s going to cook?”
“Flo, can I count on you to do the majority of the cooking? I’ll fill in where I’m needed both in the kitchen and the dining room.”
“Yes, sir.” She wore a resigned expression. Not a good sign.
“Sally?” he asked.
Still wearing a bemused expression, the eighteen-year-old slowly nodded. “Anything for Ellie.”
The innocuous statement was a telling one. His employees were devoted to their fellow worker, not to him. He’d left the running of his business to others for far too long. If he wanted to earn their respect, he was going to have to change his ways.
“I have utmost confidence that together, we can maintain the Plum’s current standards. The customers have come to expect a clean, pleasant environment and tasty food—and that’s thanks to Ellie. While we may not be able to match her excellence, I believe we can put out quality fare.”
The women exchanged doubtful glances. “Yes, sir.”
“I appreciate your willingness to work with me. Flo, feel free to alter the menu as you see fit. If you’ll be more at ease limiting the options to two or three items, that’s fine. Sally, I’ll keep the coffee coming and assist you in busing tables.” He rubbed his hands together. “Now, where can I find an apron?”
“Um, we supply our own,” Sally hedged, waving her hand to the yellow-and-white-striped one covering her sapphire-blue dress.
“We don’t have extras? In the storage room, perhaps?”
Flo’s chin jutted, her frizzy curls quivering. “We asked you last year if we could order the professional ones, but you said no.”
“I see.”
The buxom woman’s features took on a sly slant. “You can borrow Ellie’s. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”
He followed her pointed finger to the full-body apron hanging from a nail beside the hallway entrance. On a background of pale pink, tiny red roses marched across the fabric. White eyelet ruffles enhanced the feminine garment. He’d seen her wearing it, of course, and had even thought it lent much-needed color to her gray outfit.
“I suppose there’s nothing for it.”
Looping it over his head and tying the ribbons behind his waist, he ignored the ladies’ reactions and made a mental note to order plain white aprons at his first opportunity. A glance at the clock told him they had no time to waste.
“Flo, what do you need for me to do first?”
Although initially hesitant to order him about, the women soon grew used to it. Alexander found himself participating in a myriad of tasks, everything from cracking eggs into a bowl for scrambled eggs, slicing bread loaves for toast and wiping tables in the dining room. His customers’ reactions were pretty much the same across the board—outright shock that quickly turned to amusement.
He told himself it was a small price to pay. Ellie was home getting much-needed rest, which meant he didn’t have to see her and be reminded of what he’d lost and would never have again. Not to mention you won’t have to confront those pesky feelings of concern for her. Was she endangering herself and the baby by being on her feet all hours of the day? Was she eating enough? How was she supposed to provide for herself once the baby came?
Alexander could worry himself into another ulcer flare-up if he wasn’t careful.
She’s not your responsibility, he reminded himself.
Amid the hushed hum of conversation around him, he heard another customer enter and assumed Sally would greet him or her. The thud of boots approaching pulled his attention from the table he was wiping free of crumbs.
The man sporting an ear-to-ear grin could pass as Duncan McKenna’s younger brother. But while Duncan hailed from Scotland, Gatlinburg’s deputy was a Georgia native. Ben MacGregor’s hair was a dark red and his bright green eyes held a perpetual glint of mischievousness. He’d been part of the four-person team who’d hired Ellie.
He stopped in front of Alexander and propped his hands on his waist, the badge pinned to his tan vest glinting. “I never dreamed of seeing you like this, Copeland. Nice apron.”
“Have a seat, Deputy.” He finished cleaning the table and pulled out a chair. “The menu’s on the board. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“Coffee would be great, thanks.”
Hooking his Stetson on the chair beside him, he made himself comfortable and waited for Alexander to bring his beverage. The young bachelor didn’t have family in the area and either didn’t like to cook or didn’t know how, so he ate many of his meals at the Plum. Other times he ate with various families in town. Friendly and amenable, Ben MacGregor was a popular choice of dinner guest among those families with marriageable daughters. At least, that’s what he’d overheard Sally say. Judging by the pert blonde’s blushes and shy smiles whenever the deputy was near, the waitress harbored her own hopes at possible romance.
Alexander set the cup before Ben. “I forgot to ask if you take cream or sugar.”
His eyes twinkled over the rim of the cup. “Neither.” Uttering a satisfied sigh, he rested his forearm on the table. “Where’s Ellie?”
“She’s taking the morning off.” Before Ben could pepper him with questions, he said, “She’ll be here for the noon meal. What can I get you? The biscuits and gravy are popular this morning.”
Ben’s good humor dimmed. “She’s not ill, is she?”
Did being nauseated from pregnancy count? “She’s fine.”
“I’ve never known her to take time off.” He glanced out the window at the passersby. “Maybe I should pay her a visit.”
Jealousy seared him. Caught off guard, he battled to school his features. Alexander refused to give in to the emotion. He had zero designs on Ellie. After his conversation with Duncan the previous evening, he’d stewed until the wee hours over whether or not she was contemplating marriage. He accepted that she shouldn’t be alone. Ellie deserved a solid, responsible man who’d take care of her and the baby.
The deputy wasn’t that man. Ben MacGregor possessed a reputation as a notorious flirt. He didn’t hide the fact that he wasn’t interested in commitment. That didn’t stop the more determined young ladies from trying to change his mind, however. No, Ellie
needed someone who’d cherish her. Someone who’d make up for her poor excuse of a first husband.
“I doubt she’d thank you for interrupting her first morning off.” He strove for a nonchalant tone.
Ben’s gaze swiveled around to punch Alexander’s. He studied him for long moments. Gone was the carefree air that he wore like a second skin. In this moment, Alexander saw a different side to the debonair deputy.
“I suppose you’re right,” he said at last, lifting his cup to his lips. “You’re her boss, after all. You’d know her preferences better than me.”
Unsure what conclusions Ben was making, he asked again for his order.
Sally appeared at Alexander’s side. Popping a cinnamon drop into her mouth, she tucked an errant blond strand into her single braid and beamed at Ben.
“Mr. Copeland, I’ll be happy to take over. The deputy is my most loyal customer.”
Ben’s seriousness vanished like a puff of smoke. Dimples flashing, he winked at her. “Morning, Sally. Don’t you look like a ray of sunshine today.”
The eighteen-year-old stood taller and, batting her eyelashes, giggled and brushed aside his compliment. She inquired after someone named Pinto—probably a horse—and they launched into a conversation he had no part of.
Alexander suspected heartbreak lay ahead for his youngest employee. Hadn’t anyone warned her not to hang her hopes on a man who wasn’t looking for serious romance? Thoughts of his sister Margaret invaded. Was she as susceptible to charm as Sally? Was Thomas supervising her interactions with potential beaus?
Leaving the pair in order to clear another table of dishes, he considered taking Sally aside and offering a word of caution. He wasn’t aware of her family situation. Perhaps she didn’t have anyone to guide her in such matters. His sister did, however, and it was time to write Thomas and remind him of his responsibilities. Pushing aside a twinge of guilt over his hurried flight from Texas and his sparse correspondence in the intervening years, he entered the kitchen with his arms full of dishes and stopped short.
“What are you doing here?” His gaze shot to the clock. “You’re an hour early.”