“You certainly do make life fun.” Chase squeezed his wife’s hand, giving her a quick peck on the lips.
“So,” Grace addressed her question to Jamie, “who is going to do the cooking for O’Fearadaigh’s?”
“That would be me.” Jamie pointed a thumb at himself.
Abbie shook her head. “I know this is none of my business—”
“You bet it’s your business,” Jamie interrupted.
“While I’ll agree I have something at stake here. How you run this is really up to the family, but I do think the cooking shouldn’t be on you. Your job should be to win the townspeople over, to schmooze the town council, to just be a Farraday.”
“Don’t you have a cook lined up?” Chase asked.
“Had one lined up. Things have changed a bit, and Brad couldn’t turn down another offer.”
Grace pressed her lips together in a moment of thought. “This is going to be a family business. It only makes sense to have the family involved, at least in the cooking for the competition. Do you at least have the menu?”
“Absolutely.” Jamie nodded. “Right down to Mom’s Irish Stew.”
Grace’s eyes opened wide. “She shared the recipe?”
“Apparently she and Aunt Eileen have reached out to every distant relative we have from here to the Emerald Isle itself gathering recipes.”
Hand over her mouth, Abbie did her best to hold back a smile. How she loved that woman. If she could only pick one person in this world to have her back, it would be Aunt Eileen. As much as she loved and trusted DJ, his aunt had her vote hands down.
“Good. We’ll do it like those food festivals in any major city except it will all be free. Guests can taste a little of this and a little of that.”
“Appetizers, main meal, dessert.” Jamie nodded, the smile at the corners of his mouth slowly lifting higher and higher. “We’ll wipe ‘em up.”
“What about drinks?” Abbie asked. “Any way to get a special dispensation or something to serve beer?”
Grace nodded. “Yes. I can’t believe I forgot to mention it. Each company will be issued a single day one time permit to serve the liquor.”
Turning to face Jamie, Abbie shouldn’t have been surprised to see him already looking at her smiling and nodding. He didn’t need to say a word; she already knew what he was thinking. The next call he would make would be to the Dallas brewery.
Twenty minutes later, inside the future Farraday’s pub, final design plans scrolled open atop a makeshift table of plywood and sawhorses, Abbie stood listening to Jamie’s side of the conversation.
“Uh huh, that’s right, two weeks.” Jamie straightened, shifting his attention from the blueprints to the pegboard walls across the room. “Good, good. We’d love to have you. Appreciate your getting right on this.” Nodding his head and holding the phone to one ear, Jamie’s grin grew. His left arm bumped casually against her, his fingers quickly weaved through hers and he squeezed her hand.
Excited at the sparkle in his eye as he continued to bob his head at whatever Dave had to say, it took Abbie a few moments to notice Jamie had not let go of her hand. The giddy feeling of a young teen catching the attention of the good-looking nice guy on campus flooded her unexpectedly.
“Sounds perfect. We’ll see you tomorrow.” The conversation over, Jamie let go of her hand, swiped to disconnect the call, and slid the phone into his pocket before turning to face her. “Dave and his wife are going to drive out here tomorrow. They’ll check out the town, the café, and this place. That is, what there is of it.”
A sliver of disappointment nipped momentarily at her good mood. Jamie gave no indication that holding her hand had been anything more than an enthusiastic impulse. Deep down she’d instinctively known not to make anything of the gesture. And even if she’d wanted to feel sorry for herself for at least a minute or two, she couldn’t. The air around them fizzled with excitement as every inch of their plans came together. Well, his plans. “Are they only staying the day?”
Jamie shook his head. “He’ll stay at least the weekend at the B&B. He’s calling Meg now.”
“All right then.” Abbie slapped her hands together and surveyed the empty space. She’d known Jamie had been coming to clean out the main storefront most nights after dropping her off, but hadn’t realized how much progress he’d made. Too wound up over Grace’s good news, tonight she had insisted on joining Jamie with the cleanup. “Where do we start?”
“Down here is just waiting for demolition once we get the go ahead with the permits. I’ve also gone through all the boxes upstairs of old ledgers and outdated paperwork. Most of it was trash but I did take some to Marion.”
“Oh, I bet she liked that.”
Jamie chuckled. “Actually, she did. That woman has quite a fondness for old paper.”
“I bet.”
“Anyhow, I haven’t touched any of the trunks upstairs yet.” His gaze dropped to the floor before lifting to meet her eyes. His bright smile appeared a tad bit shaky, and a hint of color reached his face. “I had sort of hoped you might want to sort through those with me.”
The same giddy feeling that had rushed through her when he held her hand came hurrying back. She didn’t know what to make of all the emotions working their way to the surface or the sweet way Jamie had been treating her, but for once in her life she wasn’t going to think something to death and was determined to simply enjoy the ride.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Right about now more than anything else, Jamie wished he could read Abbie’s mind. Her pleased smile gave no indication if it was his gesture of waiting for her that gave her pleasure, or simply the prospect of digging through history again.
“I’d like that.” Abbie waved him on. “I’d offer to race you, but I don’t think we can afford any more mis-steps.”
“Definitely not.” He resisted the urge to reach out and take hold of her hand again. When he’d done so earlier on the phone it had been sheer instinct that had him reaching out for her. Then when he realized he still held on, he did his best to casually let go and hoped he hadn’t scared her away. At this point he was merely delighted she wasn’t annoyed with him and would be working at his side. “It occurred to me that the upstairs space would actually be really good for some offices. Maybe use some of that furniture.” He tugged the rope, lowering the foldout stairs.
“Oh, that sounds great. Have you told the architect to draw in a real staircase? The kind that doesn’t descend from a ceiling?”
“Won’t need the architect for that. A cousin or two and I could build them in an afternoon.”
Grabbing hold of the rails and taking one step up, she turned to look at him over her shoulder. “For the record, I won’t object if y’all start on that any day now.”
“I’ll do that,” he chuckled, “but I suspect you’d get faster action out of my cousins if you did the asking. Not that they don’t want to help me, but an attic staircase is not on anyone’s priority list.” He started up the ladder behind her.
At the top, dusting off her hands, she turned to face him. “I just might do that.”
They’d barely reached the top of the stairs when he heard voices calling “yoo hoo” in the distance. “Did you hear that?”
Hands on her hips, Abbie leaned toward the attic opening. The voices sounding once again. “Yep. Women’s voices. Are you expecting someone else?”
Jamie shook his head.
“Olly olly oxen free,” sounded louder and more clearly accompanied by more than one female voice giggling.
“They have to be here somewhere,” another woman announced.
“I bet they’re upstairs.” This time Jamie recognized his aunt.
“Uh oh.” Wide-eyed, Abbie spun to face him. “I may be wrong, but my first guess is that the girls’ Friday night-out has just been moved from Meg’s house to here.”
“Why here?” he asked.
Footsteps came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs. “Yoo hoo.”
“I th
ink we’re about to find out.” Abbie laughed and crossed the attic to the stairway opening. “We’re up here. Come on and join the party.”
Leading the pack, Meg was first up the stairs. One by one Jamie’s family and friends followed her onto the second floor.
“Just got off the phone a little bit ago with Dave,” Meg started. “He and his wife will be arriving tomorrow, but you already know that.” She turned from Jamie to Abbie. “And Grace said y’all closed a little early tonight. Since you’re not answering your phone and your house is pitch black and Dave said Jamie was here at the pub location, we figured you must be here too.”
“Sorry, my phone is on silent in my purse downstairs.”
Becky maneuvered around her sister-in-law. “No matter, we found you.” DJ’s wife smiled with a little bit more enthusiasm than he was used to even for her.
“Yep.” Aunt Eileen came around scanning the area as she spoke. “Since Mohammed won’t come to the mountain, we figured we’d bring the mountain to Mohammed. Hey,” she pointed behind Abbie, “is that a Lincoln rocker?”
Before Jamie could fully process a gaggle of women all talking at once, the storage room had been transformed from dusty mayhem to party hall. One of the trunks had been cleared off to use as a tabletop for several bottles of wine, plates of snacks and Toni’s—he suspected fully boozed—cake balls. He’d never seen all these ladies quite so… happy.
Not usually a man slow to react, still standing frozen in the same spot since everyone had climbed upstairs, Jamie didn’t know what to do next. His aunt and a few others buzzed about like bees from flower to flower, savoring every new find. Dusting off a discovery of velvet covered folding chairs, Toni and Becky scattered them around the trunk turned coffee table.
Squeezing her way between Meg and Grace, Abbie worked her way back toward him. “You look a little stunned.”
“Let’s just say, this wasn’t what I expected to be doing at this hour on a Friday night.” He glanced around at the smiling happy faces. “But everyone seems a little bit too happy.”
Abbie let out a deep chuckle. “Don’t underestimate them. Sure they’ve had a glass of wine or two—”
“Two?”
“Mostly,” she smiled, “but what you’re watching is the synergy of women taking care of women. Everyone works long and hard, day after day, week after week, and girls’ night is their chance to enjoy and recharge.”
On second look, he realized she was right. While an inordinate amount of laughter abounded all around him, the conversation was practical, clear, and reminded him of a birthday party for his sister when she was a little girl. A dozen or more friends gathered with cake and ice cream, laughing, giggling, having the time of their lives and all of them obviously perfectly sober.
“Jamie,” someone called from across the attic, “you’re going to have to use some of these pictures in the pub.”
“Synergy,” he mumbled.
“The best kind.” Abbie waved for him to follow her. “Come on. Let’s go see what treasures they’ve come across.”
Jamie nodded. He’d join in on the fun tonight, but he wasn’t interested in treasure. He was pretty sure he’d already found his, and for now, would follow her anywhere.
****
“Wow, I can’t believe how much stuff is crammed in that attic.” Abbie collapsed on the sofa, propping her feet up on the coffee table.
Meg sank into the oversized easy chair beside Abbie. “You’re not kidding. I hope Jamie takes me seriously when I tell him I’d love to have a few of those pieces for the B&B.”
“Most of it, except for a century of dirt, is in pretty good shape.” Aunt Eileen leaned back on the other end of the sofa.
“Well,” Catherine, Connor’s wife, dropped her purse on the floor. “Since I’m the only one still standing, I guess I’ll put on the kettle for tea.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Abbie swung one foot off the table.
Aunt Eileen’s arm came across and she patted Abbie on the knee. “Let her. You’ve been on your feet all day and most of the night.”
“She’s right,” Catherine said. “I sit at a desk all day long. Let someone else take care of you for a minute.”
“I’ll admit, the concept holds great appeal.” With the crazy hours Abbie always kept it was rare she’d have company at her house. It was even more unusual for her to be included on a Friday night outing, but once in a blue moon, like tonight, the dinner crowd would taper off unusually early and she’d get home at a decent hour. Not that 12:30 in the morning was a decent hour, but the gang had spent the last few hours sifting through all the remnants of yesteryear and Tuckers Bluff.
“I’m a little surprised that Jamie lasted as long as he did,” Meg mumbled through a yawn.
Aunt Eileen waved her finger at her niece-in-law. “None of that. Don’t get us started.”
“You have to admit, not many a man can hold his own around that many women.”
“We did have an unusually large turnout tonight, didn’t we?” Aunt Eileen said.
Abbie smiled. “I’m glad I got to play with everyone tonight.”
“I know I’ve said this before,” Meg sat forward, “but you could consider hiring a part-time waitress to give you a couple of nights off a week.”
Catherine came into the room carrying a tray of cups and saucers and other teatime accessories. “One night a week would be a start. Surely you could do one night a week?”
More than once the thought had crossed Abbie’s mind that it was time to slow down, to stop pushing so hard. Her mind didn’t wander back to ugly places as often as it used to, then she’d come home to an empty quiet house with nothing more to look forward to than an occasional run to the store or a few hours dabbling with paints, and think maybe next year.
The teakettle sounded and Catherine scurried into the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “No one discussed the elephant in the room tonight.”
Sitting up, placing teabags and mugs and adding sugar and milk and casting sideways glances at each other, no one said a word.
“We really should hedge our bets.” Catherine returned, teakettle in hand and began pouring into each person’s cup. “I know everybody was having fun picking out pictures and other items to display at the new pub, and that the family has been discussing recipes for the menu, and we’ve got the craft beer guy coming to town tomorrow, but we’ve got less than two weeks to pull this off and I think we need more of a plan.”
Aunt Eileen dipped her teabag in and out of the boiling water. “Sally May and I went to go visit Mabel Berkner.”
“Really?” Abbie wasn’t sure what to make of that little bit of news.
“She is, after all, the most vocal opponent to the pub.”
Catherine took a seat. “She’s opposed to anybody selling booze. And yes, she is the most vocal.”
“My thought was,” Aunt Eileen stirred her hot brew, “if we could get her on our side somehow that might mean more to the town council.”
Meg blew on her tea. “I don’t understand why she would want to support either option.”
“Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.” Abbie set her teacup down on the table. “She may not like the idea of liquor in the county, but that’s water under the bridge. She can balk all she wants, the folks of this county voted and the county or this town isn’t changing their minds. On the other hand, if there’s going to be liquor sold in Tuckers Bluff, at least she knows the Farradays are good honest people and care about this town is much as she does.”
Catherine looked to Aunt Eileen. “So how did it go?”
“Not very well.” Aunt Eileen paused for a sip. “Most of the time Sally May and I talked the woman looked like she’d been sucking on lemons.”
Abbie laughed. “Well that doesn’t mean anything. She always looks like she’s sucking on lemons.”
Aunt Eileen shrugged.
“Maybe we can’t convince Mabel, but what about the council?” Meg s
aid. “Maybe we can sweeten the pot a little for those who are leaning away from the pub.”
“Bribe them?” Abbie couldn’t believe she just heard that.
“Of course not.” Meg shook her head “I was thinking of a little negotiating. You know, like lobbyists do. Or politicians.”
“Comparing sweetening the pot to lobbyists and politicians is not making me feel all warm and fuzzy,” Abbie said.
Aunt Eileen jetted her chin forward, rubbing under her jaw. “She may have something there. This county has gotten through some rough times for many a generation with a little horse trading. That’s how barns got built and cattle and sheep ranchers learned to live side by side. Yep, I definitely think she’s onto something.”
“So,” Catherine rubbed her hands together. “We’ve got less than two weeks to find out who is leaning towards giving the permit to Hemingway’s and fishing out how O’Fearadaigh’s could be more of a benefit to them individually as well as the town than the competition.”
Aunt Eileen nodded. “I like this idea. For sure, I know from Grace the mayor is thinking there’s more to be had by taking on an international company. I’ll talk to Sean and see what we can do about him.”
Surrounded by smiling ladies, Abbie hoped it was going to be this easy. She’d grown accustomed to the idea of having Jamie around. Not that she didn’t miss working with Frank, and not that she didn’t know soon enough she wouldn’t get to spend as much time with Jamie. Common sense told her if the pub didn’t get its license, the Farradays would find something else to do with that building but Jamie would not have any reason to stay in Tuckers Bluff. That idea, more than anything else running through her mind at the moment, bothered her way more than it should. And what the heck was she going to do about that?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Ante up.” Eileen tossed a chip into the pot. Morning poker games at the café had been a regular part of her routine for as long as she could remember. She had no idea how she would have survived those first few years after Helen’s death without these fabulous women she called friends.
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