He’d worked nonstop all night and then into the morning finishing the remainder of the chores that needed completion. As far as he knew, the kitchen was ready to be put to the test. He had enough plates and utensils to outfit all the tables. The room was clean and tidy. The walls were still bare, except for a mirror; a fancy, outdated calendar; and a sketching of the Pacific Ocean, all of which he’d found in the back room of the mercantile.
Who am I kidding? Without a cook, I’m sunk. Should I look to hire one until I develop the desire, like Shawn had?
Why on earth had he taken this on? Shawn should be here, not him.
The sign had been delivered yesterday while he and the rest had been circled around Clint’s bed. In the dusky light of sunup, he’d hung the sign on the front of the building overtop the old painted “Hungry Lizard.” Its carved two-foot-tall cursive letters proclaimed this “Shawn’s Café.”
He turned when the door opened.
“Knock, knock,” Lavinia said, stepping inside. “I hope you don’t mind me letting myself in.” Dallas ran to her side, and she squatted down to love on him for several moments, her eyes shining. “I saw you through the window.” She laughed when Dallas tried to lick her face. “I was on my way to the doctor’s office to check on Clint and wondered if you might want to go with me.” She glanced around. “And by the way, things look nice. You’ve been working hard.”
And he had. To get her out of his thoughts. She was leaving in a matter of days, he’d reminded himself with every breath. Her hair, haphazardly pulled back in a messy bun, was out of character, and even more shocking, her head was bare. “Only to keep my mind off the frustrating knowledge there isn’t anything to be done to help Eden.” He smacked his fist in his palm and stared at her.
A worried crease marred her normally smooth brow. “I know. I didn’t sleep at all last night. There has to be a way to stop the logging. The sight of the Dolores River packed with trees, Eden’s trees, makes me sick . . .”
Here she was again, sharing her heart. Making him feel like they were soul mates. Since the walk in the woods, when she’d opened up to him about her dreams of being a hatmaker and asked for his advice regarding Lara, something between them had changed, at least for him. This was the moment he wanted to share with her.
When he cleared his throat, she glanced up, questions in her eyes.
“I’d like to tell you something, Lavinia, if I can?”
“Of course. What is it?”
He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, almost wishing he hadn’t brought the subject up. Finally, he said, “Growing up, I loved the water. I’m a strong swimmer and used to love to explore river bottoms, lakes, the ocean—where didn’t matter as long as the sun above beat down and I had time off from work.” He kept his gaze on the far wall. “But now, the water frightens me. Crossing the bridge to your sister’s mill takes every ounce of power I have.”
He felt her pull back, shocked at his proclamation. She searched his face, but didn’t speak. “Because of Shawn,” he whispered. “And the way he was killed.”
Her brows slowly pulled down. “Shawn is dead?”
He nodded. “He took my work shift when I failed to come home. I’d been carousing. Because of my debauched behavior, he was hit on the head by some crates and knocked into the water. If not for me, Shawn would be alive today.” Suddenly he felt embarrassed. “I dream of a watery grave for myself sometimes and wake up in a sweat.” He rubbed an unsteady hand across his mouth, wondering what had possessed him to say so much. “I guess I wanted to share with you since you shared your dreams with me.”
Her gaze slowly searched his face. “I’m so sorry about your brother, Rhett. That’s horrible.” She reached out and took his hand, gently squeezing. “I’m sure you must miss him deeply. Still, the guilt for his death does not rest on your shoulders, as much as you like to think so. If nothing else, the last six months have taught me that. Unfortunate things happen in life, they just do. Look at my father pining for his daughters to return to him for eighteen long years, while we were led to believe he was a monster who didn’t want us. I’ve had my days of feeling guilty for not searching him out anyway.” She shook her head and dropped his hand. “We can’t control our destiny. And we aren’t responsible for ill-fated circumstances that befall us—or the ones we love.” She went up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Yes, I shared my dreams with you in the forest, and I’m happy I did. No one else knows . . .”
He gazed into her eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered. Her pardon meant so much.
Untying the apron, he tossed the garment onto a table and grasped Lavinia’s hand, reminding him of their night in the forest.
“Yeah, I’d like to go check on Clint,” he said as they went through the door. “Nothing feels right until we get this clear-cutting travesty taken care of.”
Dallas jumped to his feet and followed behind.
When Rhett and Lavinia walked into the doctor’s office, the wounded sheriff looked up from a sitting position in his bed, a white bandage still wrapped around his head. A fluffy pillow was propped behind his back, and he looked comfortable. Henry sat at his side, the creases around his eyes and mouth deep and disturbing. He must not have had any more luck than Rhett in coming up with a solution. He stood when he saw Lavinia.
Dr. Gannon worked at his desk in the back of the room, and Dallas bounded over to greet the physician.
“Clint!” Lavinia exclaimed, rushing forward. “Thank God you’re awake.” She reached toward his bandage but didn’t touch his head. “How do you feel?”
He chuckled and lifted a brow. “Like I’m back in the war.”
“You’re looking better,” Rhett said, thankful Cash wasn’t going to lose his father. Clint looked almost as good as new.
“And I’m feeling pretty darn popular. Cash and Nicole just left, and Mavis sat with me all night. At least, that’s what the good doctor tells me. I wasn’t yet awake. Henry is here, and now the two of you . . .”
Lavinia looked to Henry, who gestured to the chair. She shook her head.
“No good news here,” Henry said. “I’ve sent out almost ten telegrams with no responses at all. As much as I don’t want to admit the fact, that lumber outfit might be correct. By the time we get any answers, or any help from a higher source, they’ll be ready to move on.” His mouth tightened. “I’ve racked my brain and have gone through my resources three times over. I hate this as much as everybody else. I’m afraid that unless we can come up with someone of great influence, we’re done.”
Silence filled the room.
Dallas walked over and laid his head on Clint’s bed.
It was a moment before Clint’s eyes brightened and a smile tugged the corners of his lips. “I may be pulling at straws, but what about the former president of the United States? Would he do?”
Rhett couldn’t tell if he was joking.
Clint’s cheeks turned a dark scarlet.
Henry took a step closer to the bed. “What’re you saying?”
“I’m saying, I know the former president. He was Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes when I briefly served with him in the war. I was just a kid. It was the battle at Cedar Creek in sixty-four. His horse took a bullet and went down. Colonel Hayes was knocked out. Just as the enemy was cresting the hill, I caught a riderless horse and helped him remount. Don’t know if he’ll remember me from Jack.”
Henry’s shoulders snapped back. “I’d remember if someone saved my life!”
“I certainly would,” Rhett said, nodding at Lavinia.
Dr. Gannon stood and came close.
“Most importantly, did he ask your name, Clint?” Lavinia blurted.
“He asked, and I told him . . .”
Henry clapped his hands together. “This is great news! Even though he’s been out of office now for only a few days, I’d imagine he’d have the ear of President Garfield, if anyone would. Perhaps Hayes will convince the new president to send the army, stop the cuttin
g. I’ll go get to work.”
Lavinia reached out. “But the trees now . . .”
“The army could take weeks—and that’s if President Garfield takes action,” Rhett said. He paced to the window and stared out. The view of the school playground, and beyond that, his restaurant, Shawn’s Café, stirred his insides.
He spun on his heel. “What if we could slow down the cutting until the army arrives?”
Dr. Gannon rubbed his chin. “If they arrive, you mean?”
“We’re thinking positive, Doctor,” Lavinia said. “What have you come up with, Rhett? That expression has me curious.”
Rhett stared at the doctor. “That elixir you dosed Dallas with to make him fall asleep. What was that, laudanum? How much do you have?”
“Several cases, as a matter of fact. I brought many supplies with me. What do you have in mind?”
Rhett waved them closer and lowered his voice. “Clint’s boy, Cash, is on friendly terms with several of those men over in the camp. We’ll send him with a message—an invitation, actually, something especially for the lumberjacks. Once they get here for my grand opening, this is what we’re going to do . . .”
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
With excitement thrumming through her veins, Lavinia did another sweep around the dining room of Shawn’s Café, anxious for six o’clock to arrive. She fingered her small purple hat, which looked nice with her purple-and-white apron, and stifled a satisfied grin. The invitation had been delivered three days ago, the same day they’d hatched the plan and sent a telegram to Washington. The lumbermen, having spent time in town, had no reason to be suspicious of Cash’s invitation. Since their arrival in Eden, the same day Rhett had arrived, they’d seen his efforts taking place. The construction, the building. They knew he wasn’t a hometown boy—no real stake in Eden yet. A pre–grand opening for the lumbermen was logical, as the invitation stated Rhett Laughlin, a San Francisco transplant, needed to try out his new recipes, and extended his offer to thirty-two lucky men. They would have to choose who, with a lottery, would get to attend. Cash had done a fabulous job selling the idea, explaining Rhett had little to do with the town, and that the sheriff, Cash’s father, was no fool to try to take on such a large outfit. They wanted to live and let live until the day the lumberjacks moved on . . .
Oh, how sweet the victory will taste.
She gave a small laugh.
Rhett, wearing his apron like a master chef, came into the room, a long, stew-covered wooden spoon in his hand. Wide shoulders were covered with the new shirt from Emma, and his slacks fit him better than any glove she’d ever seen. His glorious brown hair, thick and shiny, made her fingers itch to touch. But it was his gorgeous blue eyes, sparkling with mischief, that made butterflies careen inside her belly as if playing in a whirlwind.
“Did I hear something out here?”
“You did. And you might again, many times throughout the night. I’m so excited. I know your plan will work like clockwork. I just pray we have a response to Henry’s telegram to President Hayes soon!”
The thought of walking over and surprising him with a long, sultry kiss crossed her mind—several times. Last night she’d dreamed of their first encounter, but the whole thing played out much differently after she’d thrown herself onto the bed and demanded his help. The memory of his warm fingers brushing her flesh, as he’d buttoned her dress, was a slow torture. And this time his gaze gobbled her up when he watched her step out of her robe and stand before him in her corset and stockings.
Had they really done that?
Her breath came quick. She needed to banish all thoughts of Rhett’s touch, gaze, lips . . . None of that was possible.
She flushed and broke his gaze. “Only five more days until we sign the document that will make us partners in the Five Sisters,” she blurted to remind herself that these thoughts torturing her were impossible.
“So true.” With a swipe of his finger, he tasted the remnants on the spoon, taking his time to slowly lick a drop off his lips. “This is very good, Lavinia. I can’t thank you enough for the lesson.”
“It was my pleasure,” she responded teasingly.
“And as soon as you sign the papers, you can tell your sisters of your apprenticeship with Mr. Hansberry. You’ll soon be on your way.”
She tipped her head, surprised he’d remembered Mr. Hansberry’s name. Also at the unfamiliar silkiness in his tone. But what about my other desires? The ones that grow stronger every day, especially now, drawn by your eyes?
He came forward, so close she thought he planned to kiss her.
He held out the spoon. “Take a taste yourself.” His warm gaze kept her transfixed. “See if it needs more salt.”
Was he speaking about the stew? She couldn’t pull her eyes from his. He’d hypnotized her. Everything around them fell away, and all she could see was Rhett’s eyes and lips. She wanted him desperately. Still holding the spoon, he opened his arms.
Lavinia wrapped her arms around his middle, and his lips found hers. They were strong, and confident, and slowly cherished her mouth, sending a searing excitement racing to her toes. His free arm pulled her tighter, flat against his solid chest and strong body, making her feel tiny in his arms.
At the sound of footsteps on the boardwalk, they jerked apart.
Lara, dressed for work, stepped inside and stopped. Her eyes went wide.
Gathering her senses, Lavinia took the spoon from Rhett and tasted the stew with her fingertip, trying to keep her hands from shaking. “I don’t think it needs a thing.”
“Agreed.”
Lara passed by as if she were the only one in the room and went into the kitchen. “We all ready?” she called from behind the wall.
Feeling Rhett’s stare, Lavinia met his gaze once more. She didn’t see any answers there.
“We are,” she answered, feeling jittery. “Set to serve some delicious meals. Is Dr. Gannon ready?”
Lara peeked around the kitchen corner and smiled. “Absolutely.”
Less than ten minutes later, thirty-two hungry men appeared at their door, washed up and wearing wide smiles.
“Welcome, men,” Rhett said, opening the door wide so they could file inside. “Thank you for accepting my invitation.”
Lavinia, still unsettled by Rhett’s kiss, greeted them with a smile and walked them to the eight tables of four, set with red-checked tablecloths and white napkins. She and Lara would do the serving, and Rhett would appear to have done the cooking on his own. One of the fellows was the bearded lumberjack Lavinia didn’t care for.
Rhett watched with pride. “Men, please get comfortable. I appreciate you taking the time to be my tasters at my preopening. That way, next week, for the townsfolk, I’ll have worked out my kinks—if I have any.” He glanced at her and Lara waiting by the kitchen door and smiled, the gesture warming her insides.
“What’s she doing here?” the bearded lumberjack asked boldly. “She’s your competition. Across the street.”
“Lavinia was the first person I met when I moved to Eden. She’s graciously offered to help out tonight. If you have a problem with that, you’re free to leave anytime.”
Although his words were strong, he smiled and used a nice tone. The man mumbled under his breath and looked down at his hands.
“Don’t make trouble, Jim,” another lumberjack said. “We’re honored we were invited. I, for one, am hungry enough to eat a whole steer. I hope you made plenty of food.”
Rhett smiled and nodded. “Plenty.” He signaled to the girls to take out the glasses of wine they had in the kitchen. The town had donated all the food, wine, and supplies, since this was a joint effort to save Eden’s forests.
He met them in the kitchen. Taking the bottle of laudanum, he spiked one glass of wine, using the minimum amount the doctor had instructed. “Remember who you give this to,” he whispered.
Lavinia nodded and placed the glasses on her tray. She and Lara delivered the wine as well as baskets stuffed w
ith fresh bread from the oven and crocks of butter. The warm room, alive in the lamplight, felt festive. Lavinia prayed their plan would work. If it didn’t, she didn’t like to think of the repercussions.
She met Lara in the kitchen. “So far, so good,” she said. Three extra-large kettles of thick stew simmered on the stove, the contents bubbling gently.
“I just glanced out the window,” Lara said. “Your sisters are watching from your hotel room window. And Clint and Henry are on the hotel porch.” Her smile was impish. “I’m glad I got to play a role.”
“You’re an employee,” Rhett replied. “Of course you would.” He glanced at Lavinia and then back at the stew he was stirring. “This ready? Take a look.”
Lavinia touched his arm for support. “I think it was ready an hour ago. I say we get down to business. They’re clamoring for food.”
He raised a brow. “Is our man sleepy yet?”
“Difficult to tell. Seems they’re all excited for a night away from the camp. And they’re awfully large. Perhaps we should have dosed the wine more heavily.”
Rhett rubbed his chin. “And now with the glasses on the tables, too late to do anything about it.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Lavinia bolted out the door with the wine bottle.
“Who would like more wine?” she asked, liberally filling the men’s glasses. When she came to the empty glass of tainted wine, she withdrew the bottle before pouring a drop. “I’m sorry, that glass has a smudge along the lip. Let me get you a new one.” Before the man could protest, she’d grasped the glass and hurried away.
“You’re talented,” Rhett said softly. “I’ll have to remember that.” With his hand covering most of the bottle, he poured in more laudanum, being careful with the amount. “That should do it. And if not . . .” He shrugged. “We’ll have to think of something else. Doc wouldn’t help us on this part, just let us raid his supplies. We can’t give them so much they kick the bucket. You take that out and I’ll dish up the stew and ipecac.”
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