Cooking Up Trouble

by Judi Lynn

  Luther nodded. “Neither do I.”

  “Then we’re fine. Take good care of it.” Tessa pressed the key into his hand.

  His eyes went wide. “Just like that? We can move in now?”

  “You have to finish high school.”

  “We will. I promise.” Then he shrugged his shoulders and tried to look cool.

  Grams cleared her throat. “Well, now that everything’s settled, I’m an old woman. I need to get home to watch my Saturday night British comedies.”

  No one would call Grams old. She had enough energy to drive most people into the dirt. Tessa laughed. “I forgot how much you love those.”

  “What’s not to love? Gray-haired humor.” Grams started out the door. Tessa and Ian followed her. Tessa told Luther, “Lock up when you leave.”

  He looked away from her again, and she didn’t press it.

  On the way to the farmhouse, Ian said, “Supper should be interesting tonight. I won’t gloat that I got a new worker.” At her sour look, he said, “I’ll be good to him.”

  “You’d better be.”

  He laughed. “Or the next time I’m in a pickle . . .”

  “I’ll add vinegar.” Tessa stayed to wave Grams away when they reached her SUV, and then she stopped to stare at a low, expensive sports car parked by her front door. “Whose is that?”

  Ian beamed. “Lily helped me pick it out.”

  Tessa couldn’t hide her surprise. “It’s yours?”

  “Bought it yesterday.”

  A Mustang. Mustard yellow. How practical was that? She didn’t know what to say. How was he going to haul things? Carry heavy loads?

  “You don’t like it.” He sounded disappointed.

  What was wrong with her? She was ruining the fun of a new car. “I forgot you were going car shopping.”

  He opened the passenger door for her. “You don’t lie very well.”

  She sighed. He was right. She usually said what was on her mind. After he settled behind the wheel, she tried again. “I’ve lived in the country too long. Gotten too practical. Don’t pay any attention to me.”

  He glanced at her jeans. “You might want to run inside to change. I thought we’d try the seafood place in Columbus.”

  She pressed her lips together to keep from saying something stupid and climbed out of the car. By the time they drove to Columbus and back, it was going to be a late night. She usually called it quits early on Saturdays. She’d rather drive into town and hit the pizza place, but Ian was probably used to upscale restaurants.

  He followed her inside the house and waited until she came out, wearing a knee-length, flowing, flowered skirt and a white, boat-necked blouse. “You look great.”

  No, she didn’t. She’d worked all day, and her copper hair had gone frizzy in the bakery’s humidity. Her long legs looked pale as paste in the winter months, and she hadn’t bothered with any more than the basic makeup. But she kept her thoughts to herself.

  The drive to the city took forty-five minutes, and she shook her head as Ian revved his car’s engine every chance he got. She reminded herself that he hadn’t owned a car in the city. Men liked their toys. If this made him happy, and he could afford it, why not? Once winter came, and the roads clogged with snow, he might have to buy a second vehicle.

  It had been a long day—Tessa enjoyed watching the scenery stream past her and she relaxed as the miles flew by. When they reached the restaurant, Ian held her chair when the hostess led them to their table. He ordered wine and insisted on her choosing an appetizer. “You’ve been so nice to me, let me do this for you.”

  Oh, hell, why not? Tessa decided to flush her usual frugality and went with the flow. When she ordered fried calamari, Ian raised his eyebrows, surprised.

  “I pictured you as a shrimp cocktail girl,” he said.

  “I am usually, but variety’s nice once in a while.” But not too often. Probably why she worked outside and baked in good weather and wrote during her months of hibernation. She’d have to cook Ian something out of the ordinary some night for supper, though. She’d been playing it safe with standard fare.

  They talked about Luther over their entrees and changed to small talk and laughter over dessert.

  “I bought one of your books and read it,” Ian told her.

  She stared. “I write romance.”

  “Yup, that’s what it seemed like. Girl meets boy. Boy screws up. Boy works hard to win her back. Happy ending.”

  “Romances always have happy endings.”

  “In books.” He smiled. “I like your writing style.”

  Her eyes danced with humor. “And the book?”

  His grin could mesmerize. “Well, I’m guessing most guys don’t make a habit of reading mushy stuff, but I’m glad I read yours.”

  “But one’s enough?”

  He laughed. “Probably, unless you put a lot more sex in the next one.”

  She shook her head. “I write sweet romances.”

  “Not a guy thing, we like action, in and out of bed.”

  “I’ll remember that if I ever decide to change the audience I write for.”

  He reached across the table to lay his hand over hers. “No need for that. I like you just the way you are.”

  She couldn’t finish her coffee. A lump lodged in her throat. Her heart felt like it enlarged. Could a compliment turn you into an idiot? She searched for words, didn’t find many. “Thank you.”

  He pulled his hand away, embarrassed. “You’re the best, Tess. Remember that.”

  By the time they started for home, Tessa realized that it had been a long time since she’d enjoyed herself so much.

  When Ian parked by her front door, he asked, “Supper tomorrow?”

  “Grams always comes to my place on Sundays.”

  “Good, I like her. See you at six?”

  Couldn’t the man order a pizza? But then she shrugged. Why not? It would make Grams’ night. “See you then.”

  He gave a smile and tilted sideways. Was he going to kiss her goodnight? She stiffened. So did he.

  “Let me help you with your door. I always reach over Lily. Sorry. It’s habit.” But he sounded as surprised with himself as Tessa was.

  “I can open my own door, but thanks.” She slid out faster than usual. “See you tomorrow.”

  Tires squealed as he lowered his foot on the gas. Tessa stared after him as he sped away. Okay, they’d had an awkward moment. Who didn’t? Then she sighed. A mustard-colored Mustang. Lily was going to take to living in the country like oil takes to water.

  Chapter 5

  Tessa stayed in her pajamas on Sunday morning. She sprawled on her comfy couch and read the Sunday paper while she drank coffee and ate cinnamon rolls. No one came to visit on Sunday mornings, except for today. Someone knocked on the door at eleven.

  Pulling on a robe, she cracked the door and frowned at Luther. “Is everything okay?”

  Luther pushed the door wider to introduce her to Kayla. “I told her about you and the cabin. We’re moving in today, if that’s all right.” He looked down at his feet. “And Kayla would like to start doing the summer gardening jobs I usually do.”

  Tessa stepped back to let them inside. “It’s heavy work.” The girl couldn’t weigh more than a hundred and twenty pounds. Medium height and mousey, she looked like a sharp noise could give her heart failure. She had a washed-out look about her, as if life hadn’t treated her kindly. Well, it hadn’t, had it? Tessa knew the girl’s family. They lived two towns over. Everyone knew the mother called for help when the domestic abuse got to be too much, but she never pressed charges.

  “I’m stronger than I look.” Kayla stood straighter. Tessa liked it that the girl stood up for herself, but she still doubted she could do the work Luther did. “Luther says you use a tractor to mow and garden. I can do that. And I like working outdoors. If it’s something too heavy, Luther can help me on Saturdays.”

  Tessa knew Kayla was right. If Tessa shifted the workload, so t
hat anything heavy or requiring handiwork got scheduled for Saturdays, Kayla could take over the gardening and help with the farm stand during the week. She shrugged, “Okay.”

  “Am I hired?” Kayla’s body tightened like a spring.

  “We’ll give it a try.” Tessa had no desire to hire high school kids she didn’t know. They might very well be good, but there was always the start-up, learning curve. Luther could train Kayla.

  Luther’s shoulders relaxed. “The truth is, now we can afford to spend some of our savings to buy used furniture.”

  Tessa frowned, trying to remember. “Did you look in the cabin’s garage? Grandpa had furniture made to fit the rooms in the house, but it’s pretty rustic. If you don’t want it, I’ll have it stored upstairs in the barn.”

  “I forgot,” Luther said. “I walked out to the lake and saw the short pier there, and I found fishing gear on the back deck. I got pretty stoked. There’s furniture?”

  “My grandpa made some out of logs. A kitchen table and benches. The frame for a couch, but the cushions were too old to save. A bed frame and some end tables.”

  Luther reached for Kayla’s hand. “If those are still there, we could buy a new mattress.”

  Tessa waved them away. “Go check it out. The key’s on the chain I gave you. I hope we saved it all.” She shrugged. “There might even be a rowboat. George liked to fish.” George had gotten sick a few months after Grandpa. Just like Gramps, George went to the hospital to die. He didn’t have family to visit him or attend the funeral, just friends from town. Cleaning out his cabin was so depressing, Tessa and Grams had just lugged everything worth keeping to the garage, given anything of value to the Goodwill, and tossed everything else.

  Luther could hardly stand still. He and Kayla said hurried goodbyes and took off. Tessa headed for the bathroom. She’d taken a shower and pulled on jeans and an old sweater when Luther knocked on her door again.

  “Kayla says we should pay you for the furniture and boat. Can you take it out of her wages a little each week?”

  “Nope, when George moved in there, it was furnished. It’s not as furnished for you, but what’s there came with the cabin. And that’s the end of it.” When Luther opened his lips to argue, Tessa said, “If Kayla doesn’t like it, have her talk to me.”

  Luther’s eyes went round. “No, never mind, thank you. We’ll see you next Saturday.”

  “See you then.”

  He left with a bounce in his step.

  Good. If Tessa had to deal with one more interruption today, she might hurt somebody. She hit the couch again to watch a movie she’d rented—Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters. She’d been looking forward to watching it for months, but had never gotten around to it. Today was the day. And boy, was it good!

  The action and suspense energized her, so when it finished, she started making supper for Grams and Ian. She and Ian had seafood last night, but she’d bought fresh salmon when she went to the meat market. She made rice pilaf as a side dish with roasted asparagus and lemon meringue pie—one of Grams’ favorites.

  Grams got to the house first. When she walked in the kitchen, she gave a contented sigh. “It’s like someone made all of my favorites just for me.”

  Tessa laughed. “It’s possible I tried.”

  Grams glanced at the DVD case on the kitchen counter. “Really? Why not something fun and romantic? A chick flick?”

  “Get real.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Ian pulled into the drive. It wasn’t like him to be late, and when she welcomed him into the kitchen, his black mood preceded him.

  “Is everything all right?” Tessa asked.

  “No.” Ian shoved a bottle of wine toward her. “Someone broke the padlock on my horse barn and sprayed graffiti on every single stall.”

  Grams and Tessa froze to stare at him. Nothing like that had ever happened in Mill Pond.

  He let out a frustrated sigh. “I thought people might worry about a new resort on the lake, but I didn’t think anyone would try to sabotage me.”

  Grams shook her head. “No one does things like that here.”

  “Really?” His voice dripped sarcasm. “I don’t think the tooth fairy spray painted my stalls.”

  His tone surprised Tessa. He didn’t need to talk to Grams like that. Her tone sharper than she intended, she said, “It’s never happened before. People grumble or complain, but no one’s stooped to property damage.”

  Ian ran a hand through his dark hair. “Sorry, I’m just annoyed. I’m working so hard to finish projects and open the place, something like this never occurred to me.”

  Grams and Tessa looked at each other. It hadn’t occurred to them either.

  “Can you fix it?” Tessa asked.

  Ian nodded. “I talked to one of the contractors on the site. He said to use a special paint thinner, a power washer, and sandpaper. It’s going to take me a few days to remove it, though. But I’ll get it done. A little spray paint isn’t going to slow me down.”

  Grams still seemed stunned. “Could this be personal? Is somebody mad at you about something?”

  “Me?” Ian shook his head. “No one I can think of.”

  Tessa led them to the table. Witches had caused dark deeds in the movie. Someone was practicing dark deeds in Mill Pond. “We can talk about it over supper. Let’s eat before everything’s cold.”

  The vandalism had unsettled everyone. They ate and made small talk, but Tessa could tell each of them was thinking about what had happened.

  When they finished the meal, Ian said, “You went to a lot of trouble, and I ruined our moods. I’m sorry.”

  “I’d be upset, too, if I were you,” Tessa said. “No worries.”

  Grams left, fretting. Ian left, upset. And Tessa felt like she’d been hit with a stun gun. This was so not like Mill Pond; she couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

  Chapter 6

  Tessa was working in her lean-to greenhouse on the back of the garage when a familiar red SUV pulled into her drive. Darinda! She hurried to greet her childhood friend.

  Darinda crossed the yard to hug Tessa to her. A breeze tossed her short, black curls around her heart-shaped, cocoa-colored face. “Girl, I’ve missed you. I have today off, so thought I’d bug you a while.”

  It was a fact of life—a real bummer—that when Darinda had summers off from teaching, it was Tessa’s busiest time in the gardens and farm stand. And when Tessa could be more flexible in the colder months, Darinda was teaching. They often teased that they were star-crossed, but somehow they always made time for each other.

  Darinda’s two, little boys raced to Tessa and each hugged a leg. “Do you have cookies?” Gianni, the five-year-old, asked.

  “Chocolate chip?” Luigi, his three-year-old brother, specified.

  Tessa hugged them both at the same time. “Hmm, we’ll have to look in the cookie jar, won’t we?”

  The boys ran toward the house. Darinda and Tessa followed behind them. They were climbing on stools at her kitchen island when she pushed the cookie jar toward them. “Well?”

  She always kept it stocked. The cookie jar, in her house, was never empty. “Well?”

  Luigi’s face fell as he pulled out a raisin-oatmeal.

  “Try again.”

  A dimpled hand disappeared into the ceramic jar and came out with a chocolate chip cookie. A grin split his face.

  Darinda’s eyes narrowed. “Those weren’t in your case this weekend.”

  “I always keep chocolate chips in the jar. They’re every boy’s favorite.”

  “You got that right. Even the big boys. Which reminds me . . .” Darinda went to the refrigerator and poured four glasses of milk. Then she reached for a cookie, too. “I’ve heard you’ve been seeing a big boy lately. Are these cookies for him?”

  “No, Ian’s just a friend, a neighbor.”

  Gianni dug in the jar and laid out each kind of cookie he could find—sugar, oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip, and peanut butter.

  “Who
a there!” Darinda waggled a finger. “Pick two. That’s your limit, Bug Boy.”

  Tessa laughed. Gianni had taken a big interest in bugs lately. She’d bought him a cricket cage for his last birthday, and according to Darinda, it had housed all kinds of disgusting insects, even a toad or two.

  Darinda tousled her son’s hair. “We don’t bake many cookies at our place, so they always look forward to coming here. Not just for the snacks. You’re their favorite aunt.”

  Tessa wasn’t really an aunt, but she and Darinda had been fast friends since Darinda’s parents moved to Mill Pond and enrolled Darinda in Tessa’s fourth grade class. At first, the other kids at school gave Darinda a hard time, but after she and Tessa became odd versions of the Bobbsey twins, they came around. Darinda was too funny for most people to resist. Her father was an ophthalmologist, and her mom was a professor of English at the local campus.

  When Darinda graduated college as an elementary school teacher, she often joked that her parents should have known that rubbing shoulders with so many white people would lower her expectations. And then Darinda had met and married David Danza, an Italian who raised chickens, ducks, and geese. David loved all things food as much as Tessa did. Two kids later, he and Darinda seemed pretty darned happy together.

  “How did you get off on a school day?” Tessa asked, running a critical eye over her friend. She didn’t look sick. Neither did the boys. As a matter of fact, Darinda looked especially attractive today, but then, when didn’t she? The girl knew how to dress.

  “David had to meet with the new owner of Lakeview Stables. Ian wants David to be one of his suppliers. My parents are on a trip, so there wasn’t anyone to watch the boys. I never take off days at school, but this was important to David, so . . .”

  “Good, you have some spare time to spend with me.”

  Darinda’s dimple showed. “Boys, it’s time for girl talk. Why don’t you go outside and play on the tire swing?”

  When Tessa was little, her grandpa had hung the swing in the old oak on the far side of the driveway, and he’d built her a tree house in some of the lower branches. The boys took off to have fun. When the door slammed behind them, Darinda’s grin turned naughty. “Your big boy might be a friend and neighbor, but we’ve heard that you treat him very well.”