True Heart's Desire

by Caroline Fyffe

  “Take your time, sweetie,” Karen called. “Cook and I have this handled. And Nicole is supposed to be here in a few minutes. Take all the time you need.”

  Lavinia darted across the front porch, keeping her attention trained at her feet. Why did she feel so guilty? She hadn’t done anything wrong. Lara had. Lavinia’s heels clicked along the boardwalk purposefully. She circled around the building and made for the trail that would take her up to the plateau. There, in the meadow, she’d be able to make sense of her feelings. And breathe easier.

  Climbing at a good clip, her face heated. She usually took her time, went slowly, didn’t work up a sweat. Enjoyed the views and nice, clean air. Not today. Today she had demons to chase away.

  Reaching the top, she stopped. Ahead of her, Rhett, deep in thought, was staring at a pile of three rocks. The little tower was perched on a large flat slab of granite maybe an inch or two out of the grass. Close enough to the edge of the cliff that the view overlooked the town. Rhett, intent on his task, sat in the grass and hadn’t seen her arrive.

  Shocked, she drew back. The path was not well traveled, and she credited the trail to deer or other wild animals, not people. But his presence made sense. Did she think she was the only one who wondered what was up over the next rise?

  Dallas climbed to his feet.

  Rhett looked up.

  Their gazes locked.

  He sat straighter and his gaze darted to his unbelievably balanced stack of three irregularly shaped rocks, almost as if he were embarrassed to be caught in the act. A crimson hue climbed his face.

  “You’ve caught me,” he said, a crooked grin pulling his lips.

  As if released by his words, Dallas bounded to her side, wagging his tail and sniffing at her shoes.

  Feeling sentimental after seeing the despair in Lara’s eyes, Lavinia squatted and put her arms around Dallas, his head turning this way and that as he tried to lick her. She dug her fingers deep into his fur, and then kissed the top of his head, his acceptance alleviating a portion of her sadness. Finally, she stood and came closer to Rhett. “I guess I did catch you. What is that thing?”

  “I call it the watcher.”

  “The watcher? How strange.”

  “Watching over the town. See how the top rock almost looks like a man’s head tilted toward the north?”

  Now that she was closer, the stack seemed even more unbelievable. The stones defied gravity. “You’ve done the impossible.” Wariness made her take a tiny step back. “Why?”

  Rhett let out a hearty laugh, and his eyes crinkled in the corners. She’d pleased him with her question. That actually brought her a spurt of happiness.

  “It’s not anything evil,” he said, taking in his creation. “Not a curse, spell, or superstition. More than anything else, an exercise in patience and balance. Each rock has a point of balance, and if there are three points of contact I can use to stabilize it on top of another rock, I’m in business. Come closer and I’ll show you how.”

  She glanced back the way she’d come, realizing they were all alone—again. She really didn’t know Mr. Laughlin—Rhett—all that well. They’d come to a truce the last few days, but other than that, he was a mystery. Henry, being the consummate professional that he was, had avoided her questions about the town’s new man with ease each time she’d asked about him or asked why Henry hadn’t told her about the impending competition across the street with the coming restaurant. He’d politely informed her that telling her about the competition wasn’t his place, and that the Brinkmans didn’t have exclusivity over the town. All business was good for Eden—and she should welcome the challenge. Then he’d flashed her a pleased smile and gone about his business.

  Relaxed back in the sprouts of green, Rhett looked incredibly handsome. His hair was moist at the temples from sitting in the sun, and his eyes, so close to the azure sky, were amazingly blue. As if drawn by an invisible cord, her feet moved forward as he patted the ground beside him.

  “Don’t be frightened. Only thing is, to rock stack, you have to get on the ground and study the surfaces you’re working with. I’ll understand if you’d rather not get your skirt mussed on this nice, soft grass.”

  What can it hurt? Still a bit unsure, she folded her knees and lowered herself to the earth.

  Dallas sat by her shoulder as if interested in what the humans were discussing.

  “That’s better.” He tipped his head. “I like your hat.”

  She warmed. “Thank you. I decorated it myself.”

  His eyebrows rose in appreciation. “How did your doctor like his first breakfast in your café?” he asked.

  He was in a playful mood today. “He’s not my doctor.”

  “Well, yes, I meant Eden’s doctor. The one you’ve been waiting for.”

  She wanted to bite her tongue for speaking before thinking. “Of course you meant that. I was just saying . . .”

  Again the hearty laugh that reminded her of the large seals at the Philadelphia zoo. They’d clamber up a rock and bark away, sounding like a man laughing. Like Rhett. Who, at the moment, looked quite pleased with himself. Growing up with the Crowdaires, she wasn’t used to such easygoing banter. Vernon had rarely smiled, let alone laughed.

  She looked at the strange rock tower. Rhett Laughlin was a surprise. “Are you going to show me how?”

  “If you’d like. It’s a nice way to soak up some sun.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, looking at a fourth rock sitting by the tower. “He already has a head.”

  He lifted the rock, testing the weight in his hand and turning the object over several times. He held it up for her inspection, smiling when she shrugged. Then he slowly leaned forward and carefully set the stone on the top of the tower, not pulling his fingers away. He stared so long, she almost thought he was asleep with his eyes open. “A watcher has to have his hat . . .”

  “Yes, I suppose so.” She tipped her head. “How come you’re not working on your place, Mr. Laughlin? I thought you were in a rush to open.”

  His hand trembled and the whole thing almost fell.

  “Sorry!”

  He smiled. “I did all I could until I have more lumber. I’m waiting on another delivery from your sister. She said this afternoon would be the soonest. So . . .” He took a deep breath and glanced about. His eyes sparkled in the sunshine, and she remembered seeing him this morning freshly bathed from the bathhouse.

  “So you climb the hills? That’s a different pastime for someone like you.”

  “Someone like me?” He tipped his head.

  “Someone who is no longer a boy. More mature.” Embarrassed, she looked away.

  Another bark of amused laugher.

  She glanced over, a bubble of irritation sticking in her craw. Dallas, now lying down, crept forward and laid his head in her lap.

  “He likes you.”

  His words sounded wistful.

  “I’m twenty-seven, Miss Brinkman, not fifty. I’m no boy, but I’m hardly old. And I could ask the same of you. What’re you doing out here on a workday, playing hooky when you should be cooking and waiting tables? When I was in, the tables were filling quickly.”

  “I’m gathering flowers for my vases. I usually get out here sooner, pick and return, but the people wouldn’t stop coming down the stairs. We ran completely out of bacon. Karen had to make a mad dash to the butcher shop and beg that they open up early for us.”

  “That’s good news.”

  “I guess your calculations are coming true. People are flocking to Eden because of us.” She couldn’t keep the hurt from her voice. How she wished she could turn back the hands of time.

  He instantly looked up from the rocks and studied her face.

  Uncomfortable, she glanced away.

  “Something wrong, Miss Brinkman?”

  “Lavinia, please.”

  “And I’m Rhett.”

  “I think you know what’s wrong. We were made aware of the articles last night. It’s a ho
rrible feeling to have one’s whole life on display.”

  He nodded. “I see. I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news. It seems I’m not very good for the Brinkmans. Keep in mind, though, everyone has a skeleton or two in their closets.”

  His smile faded and a shuttered look dropped down over his eyes, making her wonder just what his skeletons were.

  “You shouldn’t lose too much sleep. Most of your family’s secrets, or whatever you choose to call them, were sweet. Merely entertaining, not condemning, or against the law.” He swallowed and looked away. “Nothing between life and death.”

  Even though she’d like to ask what he’d meant when he said most, she didn’t. A faraway look in his expression had stolen her voice. Rhett, as happy-go-lucky as he liked to act, had his own heartaches, and they seemed to be much larger than hers were at the moment. Compassion stirred within. It might take time for the two of them to trust each other, but maybe one day he’d feel comfortable telling her his story.

  For now, though, she stood and brushed off the front of her skirt. Reaching up, she adjusted her hat. “Good day, Rhett. I’ll leave you to your stacking, then.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Annoyance and uncertainty hummed within Rhett as he watched Lavinia walk away as if she hadn’t just thrown his thoughts into a pickle barrel and rolled them down a hill. He stood, brushed off the back of his pants. He needed to get back to work. The restaurant wouldn’t finish itself. He thought of Cash and how much faster the job would be completed if he’d accepted the boy’s help.

  That might be so, but he wasn’t going to crumple to the temptation. Each time he saw Cash walking down the street leading a horse or driving a wagon, Rhett saw Shawn. And all he’d lost. Shawn would never get a chance to fall in love, have a family, or open his restaurant. Rhett never wanted to be responsible for anyone again, especially someone who reminded him of Shawn. The sight was just too painful.

  On the far side of the clearing, Lavinia stopped at a patch of small flowers and began picking. He remembered the cold campfire he’d discovered yesterday. He should have said something, cautioned her. She shouldn’t be up here wandering the mountains alone.

  He closed the distance between them. “Lavinia,” he called.

  She looked up in surprise.

  “Yes? Did you want something?”

  “Yesterday on my explorations, I came upon a campsite.”

  Her eyes grew round. “Oh? Where?” She glanced around.

  He pointed across to the other side of the valley. “Over in those hills. Not that close, but definitely within reach of town. Just thought I’d let you know. Be watchful. I’d not want to have my sister or daughter up here alone. On the other hand, the campsite may mean nothing at all.”

  She glanced at her flowers and then up at him. “Was the camp old? From last year?”

  He shook his head. “No, I’d guess two to three days, is all.” He shrugged, feeling a bit embarrassed for having sought her out. She didn’t need, or want, his help in any aspect of her life. “Just a little warning is all. You know, keep your eyes open. I’m going to mention it to the sheriff.” He turned to go.

  “I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” she said, making him turn back. “I’m just about finished.” She lifted the bouquet to his face and he took a long sniff, and then promptly sneezed.

  When she laughed, her eyes lit up like the sun, and all the cares she was holding inside, it seemed, flew away like a flock of jittery sparrows. Embarrassed, he sniffed and wiped his arm across his nose at the exact time she withdrew a white hankie from her skirt pocket. She held the cloth out.

  “Shouldn’t I be offering you a handkerchief, not the other way around?”

  “Not necessarily. Haven’t you ever heard of the women’s suffrage movement? Spend enough time around my family and you will.”

  She had a point.

  “Rhett,” she began, using his first name. “You’re a mystery to us. We know you came from San Francisco and brought us word of the articles, but what you did in your past or where your home was, your family, and just about everything else is cloaked in shadows. Do you mean to be so secretive?”

  He frowned and glanced at the sun in the clear blue sky. “Why’re you curious?”

  She blinked at his hardened tone, then bent over and picked one more stem. “Just wondering, I guess. You have become a part of our town . . .” She started back toward the trail.

  There was no real reason he should be so curt, except his own shame. “I was a longshoreman back in San Francisco. I was born in California, where my father still lives.”

  She turned and studied him. Clarity shone in her coffee-colored eyes.

  “That makes so much sense. When I first met you, in the hotel, I thought surgery with your hands might be difficult. They’re much too large for tiny, intricate work. But for a laborer, they’re perfect.”

  He felt like taking offense at her opinion of him, a laborer, but her comment had been said in innocence. She hadn’t meant any offense. Warmth eased into his face. He’d never had anyone comment on his size before, unless he was about to go a few rounds with an opponent in a bar. The fact she’d actually been thinking about him was a compliment.

  Lavinia Brinkman actually smiled. Smiled!

  “I’ve embarrassed you,” she said. “I’m sorry. Now, I really must get back. I told Karen I’d only be gone a few minutes, and here it’s been far longer. She’ll wonder where I am.”

  “As she should.”

  With her flowers held in one hand and the length of her skirt in the other, Lavinia strode away as businesslike as ever, not knowing the slip of a girl had wedged a crack in his armor.

  She’s been thinking about me? That can’t be good. Maybe I was better off when she hated me . . .

  “Can I ask you one more question?” he said, jogging to her side to catch up.

  Dallas bounded up from his wanderings.

  She lifted a brow. “Go on . . .”

  “I was wondering about your suppliers.”

  She stopped, looking surprised. “You mean the foodstuffs I serve in my restaurant? Where I get them?”

  He took a small step back, seeing that revealing the information might not be in her best interest. “Never mind, I shouldn’t have asked.” He didn’t know the first thing about restaurants except what he liked to eat, when to pay, and to leave some coins if the service was satisfactory. But he did have Shawn’s book of recipes. On his travels here, he’d gone over in his head how he’d practice cooking every day once he arrived, but that hadn’t been the case at all. He needed to get busy. He smiled, releasing her from his question, and gestured for her to continue on with her return.

  “Actually, I don’t mind sharing. It’s what we do with the provisions that will make our sumptuous fare stand out . . .”

  “Or not.”

  “Now why would you say such a thing? I’m sure you’ll do just fine. Just the talk of a new place in town has created quite a buzz. The Five Sisters supplies all our beef, and some of the chicken too since I brought in a few more laying hens. A ranch in Dove Creek, our lamb. If you’re interested, I’ll get you their name. Mr. Hoffman at the butcher shop does our butchering for a fee, as well as killing and preparing the chickens. The mercantile has a nice assortment of canned goods and staples, like flour and sugar, some spices. Others I have to send away for. Several local farmers bring me whatever fruit and vegetables they have in season that the bugs haven’t devoured. They deliver milk and cream as well, when we need it. I’m never sure what we’ll get, so we have to plan loosely. As a matter of fact, you ran into two farmers the other day coming out of my restaurant. Mel and Kelly Wilkerson. They’re kind people and will give you the shirt off their backs if you need it. I’ll send them over to your place, as well as other proprietors you may need to speak with, the next time they’re in. How does that sound?”

  A rush of gratitude filled Rhett. Lavinia was a wealth of knowledge. And generous as well. He’d bes
t start a list and keep adding, if he was to remember everything that he needed to either gather, learn, or order. “Thank you. I’d appreciate that very much.”

  She gave him a funny look. “You have no experience with this? I’d think you’d have worked in or around an eatery for years if you wanted to open a place of your own.”

  “Well, some,” he fibbed. To tell the truth now, he’d have to share about Shawn, and he wasn’t ready to do that. Wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready.

  “Good. Then I won’t worry. I must be off . . .”

  He watched her stride away, giving her ample time to get down the trail and back into the hotel before attempting his descent. He’d already caused her scandal enough.

  The sound of a gunshot brought him up short. Off in the hills, in the direction where he’d discovered the cold campsite. Someone hunting? Most likely—but then . . .

  He started down the trail himself, giving his rock sculpture a wayward glance. Since he had to wait on his lumber anyway, now was the right time to speak with Clint about his findings, especially since Lavinia seemed to venture to the meadow often for flowers. Even though strangers in the area was probably nothing, the sheriff might be interested. And he’d feel a lot better as well.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Lavinia!”

  Lavinia turned. She’d just descended the long hill from the upper meadow, and she saw Emma heading her way at a brisk clip. “Where have you been? Karen is about to send out a search party. She’s not only worried about you, but with the full hotel, she feels certain the lunch crowd will be as busy as breakfast. She’s anxious for your return.”

  Lavinia held up the bouquet as her answer. “I’m sorry. When I get in the meadow, time slips away. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like not to be married to the café.”