Читать книгу Bachelor Protector - Julianna Morris - Страница 13

Оглавление

CHAPTER THREE

WHEN TYLER GOT BACK to the suite, he was relieved to see his brother had changed his clothes and was out in the garden.

Needing to accomplish something, he went inside and rang the rehab center to request recommendations for Nathan’s treatment.

“I can give information to your brother, but not to you. Privacy laws are very strict,” Dr. Chin explained.

Tyler gritted his teeth. “But you have talked to me, a dozen or more times since he went into rehab.”

“Yes, but the release he signed has expired. Is Nathan there? He could give me permission. At the very least, I’d like to know how he’s doing.”

“Just a moment.” Tyler went into the garden and held the phone out to his brother. “Dr. Chin would like to speak with you.”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“He’s concerned about your health,” Tyler said tightly. “And he left a staff meeting to take my call. Please do him the courtesy of listening to what he has to say.”

Nathan simply hunched his shoulders.

Tyler put the phone to his ear again. “I’m sorry, Doctor, my brother is being a jackass.” Even as he said it, he remembered Sarah calling him the same thing.

Damnation, how had she gotten into his head?

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dr. Chin said. “I’ve been thinking, if you can’t convince him to return, perhaps I...um, can send you some general recommendations. Ones that could apply to most of the recovering soldiers I’ve treated.”

A faint sense of relief went through Tyler. He still thought Nathan should be getting twenty-four-hour care and the doctor appeared to agree, but any guidance would help. “I’d appreciate whatever you can give me.” He provided his email address and disconnected, promising to call again if Nathan’s condition worsened.

Tyler dropped the phone in his pocket. If he thought confronting his brother would do any good, he’d confront him. But he suspected it wouldn’t, so he asked Nathan to take a walk with him instead. The idea was met with indifference and finally refusal. After that, Tyler suggested a game of chess. Nathan still wasn’t interested.

Finally Tyler sat in a nearby chair and put a stern, I-mean-business expression on his face. “Have you seen a doctor since coming to Glimmer Creek?”

Nathan gave him a dirty look. “No. I’m tired of doctors.”

“I don’t blame you, but I need to know what therapy program you’re supposed to be following and any other information you and Mom have left out. How about that medication they were giving you for the nightmares? Don’t you need refills?”

His brother shrugged. “It wasn’t helping, so I stopped taking it. Anyway, I can’t talk now. Kurt is showing me the Poppy Gold greenhouses today. I have to find out when he’s coming.”

Nathan got out his own phone but was obviously waiting for Tyler to leave before making the call.

Tyler finally went inside, hoping it was a good sign that his brother was carrying his cell. In the hospital and rehab center, Nathan had resisted being in contact with friends or hearing about the affairs of the world. Their mother had been the same, which was why Tyler had figured neither of them would have heard about the incident in Illinois. It helped that this sort of story, without any fatalities, usually wasn’t in the news for long. And as it turned out, they also must have been busy getting settled into Poppy Gold.

Tyler massaged the muscles at the back of his neck. The past two weeks had been rough. After being treated for his injuries, he’d returned to Italy and finished his work there, only to fly home and discover his family was gone.

But at least he’d broached the subject of medical care with Nathan, however unproductive the conversation had been. Perhaps they could talk about it as a family and figure out what they were planning from here...because he suspected they weren’t going back to the East Coast any time soon.

* * *

KURT FULLERTON PARKED behind his daughter’s catering business for his usual midmorning check to see if she needed anything.

“Hey, Dad,” Sarah called as he came through the back door. He’d been there earlier, and she still looked so pale and tense that he frowned.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Just busy.”

Kurt wasn’t sure. Something told him something was going on, but she probably wasn’t going to tell him; she’d inherited his ex-wife’s slender grace and his pigheaded nature.

Wanting to taking care of his daughter was a tough habit to kick, especially since he hadn’t been around much in her early years. After his wife had run off with another man, he’d brought Sarah home to his parents, convinced that caring for a toddler on an army base was impossible for a single father.

Now he knew that he’d given up too easily. Lizzie’s actions had embittered him, and for a while he’d become the hardest-living son of a gun in the army. Instead he should have done his best to be a good dad.

“You hardly ever let me do anything to help around here,” he complained.

“That isn’t true,” Sarah shot back. “You shop for me every week, and you’re always finding something else to do. And that isn’t even counting all the work you did remodeling the two kitchens. Twice.”

“That’s nothing. I like being involved and knowing what’s going on.”

Kurt just wished he’d known more about Sarah’s troubles with her louse of a husband.

A timer buzzed and Sarah hurried to remove loaves of bread from the ovens.

Kurt went to the front counter and got a cup of joe, then ambled down the short hallway to the office to visit with Rosemary.

“Good morning, Kurt. Don’t you want something to go with your coffee?” she asked. “Sarah made poppy-seed muffins earlier. I’ve never seen anyone get as much done as she does.”

“That’s my girl. But I’d better not indulge, I already had her egg and ham pie when I brought over a batch of green onions from the greenhouse.” He patted his stomach.

* * *

ROSEMARY TRIED NOT to laugh. Sarah had confided that her father, along with the rest of the male half of Glimmer Creek, wouldn’t eat anything called quiche, so she’d put a puff pastry crust on top and called it egg pie.

“Working here is terrible for the waistline,” Rosemary admitted. “I haven’t tasted a single thing that isn’t delicious.”

“You’ve got a long way to go before you need to worry about your waistline,” Kurt assured her. “Me, I’ve got a linebacker build, unlike my brothers. I’m glad Sarah didn’t get my shape.”

Kurt’s large family intrigued Rosemary. Nine siblings, and most of them had several children, as well. It was sad that he’d never found someone else after his divorce, but she understood how difficult it was to risk loving again. After all, while her husband’s death had been devastating, the grief had also renewed an old, wrenching sorrow...the loss of her first child.

One-year-old Kittie had been the light of their lives. Bright and full of fun, she’d brought joy to everyone. It was only after her death from spinal meningitis that they’d moved to Washington, DC, and Richard’s dedication to his career had turned into an obsession. Rosemary hadn’t handled the loss any better; she’d dived into fund-raising for nonprofit organizations. They’d even decided not to have more children, only to discover Tyler was on the way.

“Sarah has your eyes,” Rosemary said, hoping her voice wouldn’t break. It wasn’t that she loved Tyler and Nathan any less, but it was wrenching to remember her daughter.

“Except they’re pretty on Sarah.” He grinned and drank a gulp of coffee.

Rosemary thought Kurt’s eyes were nice on him, too. He was an attractive man, not classically handsome like her husband had been, but good-looking, with a reassuring manner.

“Do you ever think about grandchildren?” she asked wistfully. A year earlier, she’d had high hopes of becoming a grandmother. Nathan had been engaged and looking forward to fatherhood, then his fiancée had decided she couldn’t handle being a soldier’s wife.

“I’d love them,” Kurt said, “but Sarah’s marriage was pretty bad. I don’t know when she’ll be ready.” He finished his coffee and got up. “Better get going. I wouldn’t want my daughter to think I’m interfering with your work.”

After a moment, Rosemary heard him in the kitchen saying goodbye to Sarah. She envied their close relationship. She’d seen it from her first day at the bakery when Kurt had delivered a load of supplies.

A thoroughly nice man, Rosemary had concluded after watching father and daughter together. She was glad for them, but it was a reminder that she didn’t have a similar relationship with her own children.

Maybe that was why she’d gone along when Nathan insisted on leaving the rehab hospital...because she’d hoped it might bring them closer.

* * *

GREAT-UNCLE MILT came into the shop to see Sarah shortly before the lunch-hour rush.

“Hey, Uncle Milt, how about a sandwich?” Sarah nodded to Aurelia, who began packing his favorite meal into a bag.

“I should say no, but I won’t. Just put it on my account. I mostly came to tell you about that fellow from yesterday.”

“Oh?” Sarah said cautiously, hoping he didn’t know Tyler had shown up again. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Aurelia handed Great-Uncle Milt his lunch, and they headed down the street.

“I spoke to Zach and he did a standard background check at the police station,” Great-Uncle Milt explained as they strolled toward the city park. “It turns out Tyler Prentiss is connected to an investigation in the Chicago area.”

Sarah nearly tripped. She didn’t have a high opinion of Rosemary’s eldest son, but she didn’t think he was a criminal.

“What sort of investigation?”

“Earlier in July a building under construction collapsed and injured several workers. Prentiss was the original architect, though another architect took over the project in February and made changes. Nonetheless, the owner is blaming Mr. Prentiss. The investigation could take months to resolve.”

Sarah wasn’t surprised that Rosemary had been silent about the incident; it wasn’t something you’d casually discuss. “It doesn’t sound as if he could be responsible if changes were made to his original design.”

“I realize that, and Prentiss’s work is highly regarded, which I’m sure the authorities are keeping in mind. Other than this, his record is spotless. Not even a speeding ticket.”

“I appreciate the update.”

Sarah wasn’t sure what to make of Great-Uncle Milt’s revelation, though it actually made her feel more sympathetic toward Tyler. She knew what it was like to be to be exhausted and not thinking straight.

Within just a few months, his father had died and his brother had been seriously injured, and now his career was under siege. What did they say about trouble coming in threes?

Rosemary had talked often about her sons since starting to work at the bakery, and a picture of Tyler had emerged as an extremely cool and measured man.

Sarah had begun to think of him almost as a hermit crab, toting around an oversize shell into which he could withdraw. The mental image still fit what she’d seen of his personality—except for the bad temper he’d shown—but she hadn’t expected his “shell” to be so...mouthwatering.

With a sigh, Sarah glanced at the clock tower on City Hall. “Sorry, Uncle Milt, but I have to scoot,” she said. “See you on Sunday.”

Sarah hurried back toward the sweet shop, and as bad luck would have it, ran into Tyler Prentiss going into the newly relocated Valentino’s Pizza Pizzazz. In such a small town, encounters were to be expected. She just wished it could have happened on a different day.

He gave her an inquiring look. “I thought you weren’t taking lunch.”

“I don’t take long lunches, though in this case I was discussing something with a relative, not eating.” Sarah resisted the temptation to say she had the right to do whatever she wanted, regardless of what she’d told him. “Uncle Milt is the former Glimmer Creek police chief.”

Tyler’s expression didn’t change. “Mom mentioned you have family in the area.”

“That’s right.”

Grandma Margaret called their family an embarrassment of riches. Sarah thought that was apt. She was fortunate to have so many people who cared about her.

Of course, she hadn’t always felt lucky when she was a teenager and couldn’t get away with a tiny bit of rebellion—too many relatives to see it.

Being a little wild might have been fun, and maybe she wouldn’t have made such a huge mistake with her ex-husband if she’d been able to learn from smaller mistakes as a teen.

“Is something wrong?” Tyler prompted.

“Nope. I understand you don’t have any extended family yourself.”

“It’s just the three of us now.”

Sarah couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have so few relatives. Sometimes it seemed as if everyone in Glimmer Creek was related to her in one way or another.

“I’m sorry about your dad,” she said, unsure if she should say anything at all. Some people didn’t want to be reminded of someone they’d lost.

A mask seemed to come over Tyler’s face. “Thank you. He was a great lawyer. Tops in the DC area.”

“Oh. That’s nice.”

Despite her comment, she was puzzled. If she’d lost her father, even sympathy from a stranger would have made her declare how special and wonderful he was. Calling him a brave soldier or gifted horticulturist would only have occurred to her later.

She squared her shoulders. “Well, I won’t keep you.”

Sarah headed down the passageway between the sweet shop and the pizza parlor to go in through the back entrance. The front of the bakery was so crowded that there was a line out the door, extending down the street.

Yet a part of her mind wasn’t thinking about the shop and everything that needed doing... It was thinking about Tyler Prentiss and the closed-off look in his eyes when he’d talked about his father.

* * *

SHORTLY AFTER THE lunch rush, Sarah was putting the final touches on a batch of wild blackberry tarts when Rosemary came into the kitchen.

“Sarah, there’s a Mr. Seibert on the line for you, from City Hall.”

Sarah hurried into the office and picked up the receiver. “Hey, Stephen.” She didn’t know him professionally—he’d started working for the city after the various renovations had been completed on her business—but they’d met at a few community events.

“Hello, Sarah. I...um... I’m sorry, but I need to schedule an inspection,” he said hesitantly.

“Sure, but we don’t have any remodeling planned.”

Stephen cleared his throat. “Actually, I received a complaint saying your facility might not meet building codes for the number of employees. Also that the air-conditioning might not be up to par.”

“A complaint?” Sarah tried not to react as she recalled Tyler saying he didn’t want his mother in a hot, crowded kitchen. “From who?”

“It was anonymous. These things usually are, and they’re usually a bunch of nonsense, but I still need to check. It’s standard city protocol.”

“Okay. Do you want to come today?”

“Tomorrow is fine. How about 2:00 p.m.? I’ll also have to see your work schedules to know how many employees are present at any given time.”

“Whatever you need.”

Sarah got off and tried keep the frustration from showing on her face.

“Is there a problem?” Rosemary asked worriedly.

“No, the city just does inspections now and then.”

“I heard you mention a complaint. Who would complain? Everybody is so happy here.”

Sarah shrugged. “Stephen doesn’t know—it was anonymous. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.”

On reflection, an anonymous complaint didn’t sound like Tyler Prentiss. Of course, she couldn’t think of anyone else it could be, either, though the memory of the silent calls she’d been having popped into her mind.

Don’t be paranoid, Sarah ordered. It was unlikely the two problems were connected.

“I heard Tyler dropped by this morning,” Rosemary said, still looking upset.

“Yes, he apologized.”

Rosemary brightened. “I’m glad to hear that. He means well, but he’s protective. The truth is, I was a complete mess after Richard died. I’d let my husband handle all our personal affairs and wasn’t the least prepared when...” She swallowed. “Richard died of a massive stroke. He was older than me and should have retired years ago, but nothing could make him slow down.”

“It must have been a shock.”

“He simply wouldn’t take care of himself. But I shouldn’t keep you—you have enough to do.”

Sarah smiled. She didn’t mind the moments that she and Rosemary got to talking. Thanks to the older woman’s ability to manage the business end of the sweet shop, she was getting more time to do what she loved most.

“Actually, I’m going to finish my blackberry tarts, then go home and take a nap,” she explained. “I’ll come back later to make fudge.” Her candy chef had asked for an extra day off this week, and she didn’t want to run low.

In the kitchen, Sarah found someone else had finished the tarts, so she gratefully left. At the house, she set the alarm and unplugged her landline before lying down. Theo delightedly jumped up with her and settled down, purring.

“Hey, baby.”

It was crazy to feel edgy, even though she knew it was unlikely that anything weird was going on, but it still took time to drop off. The question kept revolving in her head—who could have complained? She easily met the county’s guidelines for commercial kitchens.

Finally she began counting black cats in her head. Happy, playful black cats, and with Theo leaning against her shoulder, she drifted to sleep.

* * *

ROSEMARY WAS DISAPPOINTED she didn’t find Nathan in the garden when she got home. She’d brought him a sandwich and salad at lunchtime, but he’d said Tyler was getting pizza so the food had gone into the refrigerator.

Nathan wasn’t in the living room or his bedroom.

“Is that you, Mom?” called Tyler.

“Yes.” She hurried out from Nathan’s room. “Where is your brother?”

“Didn’t he tell you? Mr. Fullerton took him to see the Poppy Gold greenhouses. I think they’re spending the afternoon together.”

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot.” Flustered, Rosemary put the kettle on for tea. “I heard you apologized to Sarah,” she said finally.

“I asked her to lunch, but she didn’t have time.”

“She’s always busy. Tomorrow will be especially hectic since she, um, got a call this afternoon from the city.”

A thought had been nagging her...that Tyler might have made the complaint. It was dreadful to think he could do something like that, but she also knew he was unhappy about her job.

“Apparently someone made an anonymous complaint,” she continued. “It’s terrible that Sarah has to take time to deal with something like this. I can’t imagine her violating any rules.”

“Then the inspection shouldn’t be a problem.” Tyler’s expression didn’t reveal much. You’d think as his mother she’d be able to read more in his face, but it was no easier now than when he’d been a child. So unless she asked outright, she wasn’t going to discover whether he was responsible. Surely not, though.

“What else did Sarah say?” Tyler prompted, breaking into her thoughts.

“Nothing. I’m just concerned about her.”

“She isn’t your daughter.”

“I realize that,” Rosemary returned sharply, though she knew her son wasn’t trying to be cruel. He didn’t know about his sister. Richard had insisted they never talk about Kittie, and since they’d moved to the DC area after her death, their new social circle hadn’t known about her, either.

Would it upset Tyler and Nathan to learn that an important part of their family history had never been discussed, or would it help them understand their father a little better?

* * *

TYLER SUSPECTED HIS MOTHER wondered if he’d made the call, but the idea was offensive. It would have been purely to harass Sarah, and he’d never do that.

“The complaint must be a misunderstanding,” he said.

“Of course. But it will take time to resolve, and Sarah already works appalling hours. Even worse than you, I think.”

He didn’t think his work hours were appalling, certainly no longer than his father’s. Richard had rarely been at home when his sons were awake. Tyler hadn’t faulted his dad for being a dedicated lawyer, but why have kids if he didn’t like them? Just to have someone carry on the family name and follow in his footsteps?

Tyler didn’t feel the need for children, and since his work took him all over the world, it wouldn’t be fair to a family for him to be gone weeks or months at a stretch.

Frankly, he didn’t intend to change.

He liked going full tilt. He wanted to leave his mark on the world by designing memorable buildings, not by passing on his genes.

“I’m sure Sarah will manage,” Tyler said. “Besides, how long could it take? She doesn’t need to go around with the inspector, just talk with him afterward.”

His mother simply shook her head and walked upstairs.

Outside, Tyler saw his brother return with Kurt Fullerton and sit on the garden chairs, talking. It still amazed Tyler that Sarah was Kurt’s daughter. While she had his green eyes, she was delicate and slim, with none of his square solidity.

Tyler stepped onto the porch, only to decide against joining the other two men. Instead he went for a walk around Poppy Gold. While he wasn’t a huge fan of Victorian architecture, the place projected an air of gracious elegance. An hour later, he returned to the suite and found his mother talking to a man on the porch.

“I’m so sorry,” she was saying, visibly distressed. “Maybe they can put it on my account here at Poppy Gold.”

“What’s wrong?” Tyler asked.

“I ordered food, but can’t find my purse.”

“No problem.” He took out his wallet and turned to the deliveryman. “How much do we owe you?”

“Forty-eight even.”

Tyler extracted three twenties and held them out. “Keep the change. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Thank you, sir.”

His mother’s cheeks were pink as he carried the bags of food into the kitchen and put them on the breakfast table.

“I must have left my purse at work,” she said. “I’ll get it after dinner.”

“Isn’t it safe to leave in the office?”

“Of course it’s safe. Someone is always at the shop, but I keep my blood pressure medicine in there. I’ll need that tonight. And I...well, I keep your father’s wallet in there. I like having it nearby.”

“I’ll go now. You and Nathan start eating without me.”

Tyler didn’t wait for her to agree. After losing his father to a stroke, he wasn’t taking any chances with his mother’s medication. The door was locked at Sarah’s Sweet Treats, but he knocked until an employee came out from the back.

“I’m sorry, we’re closed,” the woman called pleasantly.

“My mother works here. Rosemary Prentiss. She left her purse and needs it.”

“Just a minute, I’ll let Sarah know.”

She disappeared. A few minutes passed and Tyler wondered if he’d been forgotten, then Sarah came out and unlocked the door. She looked more rested than she had earlier, though still on edge.

“We keep running into each other,” she said, stepping aside to let him enter and then locking the door again.

“Sorry for the inconvenience. Mom forgot her purse in the office.”

“That’s what Katie said. I phoned Rosemary, and she said it was okay to let you take it.”

“Sarah,” called a frantic voice. “I keep stirring this, but I don’t know what else to do.”

Sarah raced to the back of the shop. Tyler followed her through a bright kitchen filled with stainless steel appliances to one that was smaller but no less tidy. She was already at one of the stoves, stirring the contents of a large pot.

Chocolate, he realized. Obviously he’d come at an inconvenient time, though he wondered if there was ever a convenient time with Sarah.

She checked a large thermometer and gave the mixture an extra stir before pouring it into a rectangular pan.

“It’s fudge,” Sarah explained, casting him a glance.

“Do you make all the candy you sell?”

“It’s all made here, yes. But I have an employee who does most of it. She’s taking a personal day, so I’m filling in. Usually I focus on developing new recipes. Tonight I may experiment with lemon meringue fudge.”

Tyler frowned. “Fudge is supposed to be chocolate.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Not the way I make it. Do you like cappuccino?”

“I suppose.”

“Then come with me.”

Sarah returned to the front of the bakery and turned on the lights in a display case. She cut a piece from a cream-colored slab and gave it to him on a napkin. “This is my cappuccino fudge.”

He took a bite and the rich essence of coffee and cinnamon rolled across his tongue. Though he wasn’t big on candy, he was disappointed when the last of it was gone. “That’s pretty good,” he admitted. “I concede that fudge doesn’t have to be chocolate.”

She served him another couple of samples, including one named Hogwarts Special.

“Hogwarts Special?” Tyler echoed.

“For the Harry Potter fans. The books talk about pumpkin juice, but this is mostly pumpkin spice. I haven’t managed to get more than a mild pumpkin flavor in the fudge. Blackberry is easier because the berries are so tangy.”

Sarah was clearly enthused about her creations, enough to indulge even him with samples when he must have been a thorn in her side for their entire acquaintance. Yet a thought kept tapping in the back of Tyler’s brain...was she being nice because she thought he’d made the anonymous complaint?

She couldn’t be worried about passing an inspection. From what he’d seen, both of her kitchens were modern, spotless and pleasant places to work.

“I don’t cook and I’ve never met anyone who invented recipes,” he said, genuinely curious about the process. As a kid, his mom had hired a chef or a caterer, and he’d relied mostly on restaurants as an adult.

“Chefs and bakers invent recipes all the time. I’ll get Rosemary’s purse.”

Sarah left and returned a minute later. She put the purse inside one of the Sweet Treat’s shopping bags before handing it to him, probably assuming he wouldn’t want to walk back through Poppy Gold carrying a woman’s handbag. It was true. While he didn’t think he was irredeemably chauvinistic, he also wasn’t exactly enlightened, either.

Bachelor Protector

Подняться наверх