Читать книгу A Father's Second Chance - Mindy Obenhaus - Страница 13

Chapter Four

Gage dropped the girls off at school without a minute to spare. After staying up late to work on Celeste’s quote, sleep held him captive with unwanted yet all-too-appealing visions of Celeste with his daughters.

Two cups of coffee and a quick shower later, he was still dragging. He could only hope the breakfast rush went long at Granny’s Kitchen. The busier Celeste was, the quicker the process would be. He’d simply drop off the estimate and she could get back to him later. Because after seeing her in his dreams, the last thing he wanted was to spend time in her presence this morning.

A half a dozen cars parked near the corner restaurant encouraged him. He snagged a spot, turned off the ignition and hopped out of his truck.

Despite a clear blue sky overhead, Main Street lay bathed in shadows, waiting for the sun to top the gray, volcanic peaks of the Amphitheater, the curved formation at the town’s eastern edge. Frost dappled windshields and rooftops, while the brisk morning air jolted his sleep-deprived senses. A reminder that winter wasn’t too far around the corner.

Inside the restaurant, smiling faces and the aromas of bacon, fresh-brewed coffee and cinnamon transported him to another time. Back when life was simpler and dreams were bigger. When the future was his for the taking. Before reality dealt a heartbreaking blow that would forever change him.

Celeste emerged from the kitchen, carrying three plates. One with eggs, bacon and hash browns, another with what appeared to be breakfast burritos, and the last held a cinnamon roll that looked exactly like the ones her grandmother used to make.

Spotting him, she did a double take. “Be with you in a second.”

His insides tensed. While his head told him to drop the file on the counter and run, his stomach begged him to pull up a chair and enjoy a hearty breakfast. Maybe food would help take his mind off last night. If nothing else, it would silence the rumbling in his gut.

He slid onto a bar stool as Celeste moved behind the oak-topped counter.

She paused long enough to grab a coffeepot and a white mug. “You look as though you could use this.” She set the cup in front of him and poured.

“That bad, huh?”

She puffed out a gentle laugh. “That bear—or at least thoughts of him—kept me awake half the night, too.”

Bear? He palmed the cup, the warmth seeping into his fingers. He should be so lucky.

“Cream or sugar?”

“No, thanks.” He took a sip, trying not to make eye contact. Celeste’s long blond hair was pulled back yet again, her attire more business than casual, and she’d grown at least two inches since last night.

“Excuse me for a minute.” She replaced the coffeepot on the warmer before continuing into the kitchen.

Gage couldn’t help wondering what had happened to the overbearing, dictatorial Celeste he met with yesterday afternoon. The one who had been a burr under his saddle. That Celeste he could deal with. The sweet, nurturing Celeste who showed up uninvited in his dreams? Not so much.

A few minutes later, she returned, carrying a foil pan encased in a plastic bag. She set it beside him. “My way of saying thank you for your help last night.”

The sight of six homemade cinnamon rolls covered in rich, gooey icing wiped every thought from his brain as his stomach broke into a Snoopy dance. “Where’s a fork?”

“Not so fast. Those are for later.”

“What?”

“Order up.”

Celeste reached toward the stainless steel pass-through to the kitchen and retrieved a plate. “This one is for now.” Frosting dripped from the steaming, oversize confection she placed in front of him. She handed him a fork and a short stack of napkins. “That is, unless you’ve already had breakfast.”

“I haven’t.” Filled with more anticipation than a grown man ought to have, he grabbed the fork. “And even if I had...” The warm pastry melted in his mouth while an explosion of cinnamon and creamy sweetness chased his cares away. “This is even better than I remembered.”

“I’m glad you approve.”

“Oh, I almost forgot.” He positioned his fork on the edge of the plate and picked up the file. “I finished your quote.”

Her brown eyes went wide. “Are you kidding?” She accepted the folder. “How did you manage that?”

No way was he going to let on how the sight of her with Cassidy and Emma had affected him. “Guess that bear riled us both.”

“Order up.”

“Drat!” Celeste tucked the file folder on the opposite work counter, alongside rows of ketchup, mustard and hot sauce bottles. “Duty calls.” She retrieved two more plates from the pass-through and was on her way.

Gage savored the first decent cinnamon roll he’d had in twenty years, washing down his last bite with a swig of coffee. Mission accomplished. The quote had been delivered and even though he’d been here longer than planned, the cinnamon roll more than made up for it. Now all he had to do was finish up some last-minute details at the Schmidts’ and he’d have the rest of the day to himself.

Standing, he reached for the care package Celeste had given him.

“This is starting to become a habit.” Blakely squeezed between him and the next stool, not looking anywhere near as chipper as she’d been yesterday.

He helped her onto the chair. “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah. I just got some disturbing news, that’s all.” She pointed to the pan of rolls. “Hard to resist, aren’t they?”

“Morning, Blakely.” Celeste whisked along the other side of the counter.

“Hey there, Gage. Blakely.” Kaleb Palmer, Gage’s old classmate and the town’s most decorated veteran, waited in front of the register.

“I’ve been hearing some rumors about you, Kaleb.” Crossing her arms, Blakely leaned her elbows against the counter and looked past Gage. “And I sure hope they’re true.”

“Well, that depends.” The former soldier who’d lost a leg in Afghanistan grinned and handed Celeste a ten. “What kind of rumors?”

Blakely’s brow lifted. “That you’re looking to buy Mountain View Tours from Ross Chapman.”

Their good-natured friend accepted his change and turned to face them. “Then that would be correct.”

“Yes!” Blakely squirmed out of her chair and thrust her arms around Kaleb’s waist. “Praise the Lord and hallelujah.”

It was no secret that Ross Chapman, Mountain View Tours’ current owner, had been a thorn in Blakely’s side. Not to mention a poor businessman, nearly running the once well-established business into the ground.

Kaleb squeezed Blakely’s shoulder. “I just hope we can be allies instead of competitors.”

“Without a doubt. Trent and I will be happy to help you any way we can.”

“Good deal.” Kaleb started for the door, the hitch of his prosthetic leg virtually unnoticeable. “Now I’ve just got to get things hashed out with Chapman.”

Blakely grimaced. “Don’t bring up my name, then. However, I’ll definitely be praying for things to work out.”

“You can count me in on those prayers,” said Celeste.

“Me, too.” Gage admired Kaleb’s determination and positive outlook. He had every confidence his friend could do wonders for both Mountain View Tours and Ouray’s tourism industry.

“’Preciate that, guys.” Kaleb waved as he pushed the door open. “Catch ya later.”

Celeste grabbed a couple of menus as another couple entered the restaurant. “I’ll be right back, y’all.”

Gage helped Blakely back into her seat. “That news ought to help shore up whatever was bothering you earlier.”

“I wish.” She ran her fingers through her strawberry blond hair. “You know the fall festival?”

“Sure. The girls were just talking about it the other day.”

“Linda Barrow was supposed to be in charge. I found out this morning that she completely dropped the ball.”

He eased back into his own chair, studying Blakely’s pinched expression. “What do you mean?”

“You know her mom’s been sick.”

He nodded.

“Apparently time got away from her. Not one thing has been done for the festival.”

“What festival?” Celeste peeled a sheet from her order pad and clipped it to the wheel on the pass-through before giving it a spin.

“The fall festival,” said Blakely. “All the churches in town come together to put on a carnival for the kids,” Gage explained.

“Sounds like fun.”

“It is.” Blakely folded her hands atop the counter. “Especially for the kids.”

“But it doesn’t look like it’s going to happen this year.” Gage shook his head. “Which is a shame. A lot of kids are going to be disappointed. Mine included.”

“No. They’re not.”

Both Celeste and Gage stared at Blakely.

“Austin has always loved the festival.” She absently rubbed her belly, as though considering the child growing inside her, too. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing such a wonderful tradition. So...I said I’d take over.”

Gage narrowed his gaze. “At the risk of sounding like Captain Obvious, you do realize you’re about to have a baby, don’t you?”

Blakely laughed. “Not for another month. The festival will be over long before my due date.”

“Still, you can’t take this all on by yourself, Blakely. How can I help? Besides sustaining you with cookies and cinnamon rolls.”

Their friend grinned. “Well, I wasn’t exactly planning on doing the whole thing by myself. Just the organizing. I’ve got to come up with some people willing to solicit donations of food and prizes, create and set up games, recruit volunteers to work the festival...”

“I can do the recruiting and solicitation.” Celeste’s expression turned serious.

“You need a bounce house?” Gage downed the rest of his now lukewarm coffee.

“I almost forgot about that. Yes.”

“I know a guy in Montrose. I’ll give him a call. What else can I do?”

Blakely took a deep breath and smiled, her blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. Probably just hormones, though it still made him uncomfortable. “You guys are amazing. Honestly, I was only coming in here for a cinnamon roll. But you’ve encouraged me so much.” She wiped at a tear. “With the three of us working together, I know we can make this the best fall festival yet.”

Together? Gage had no problem with Blakely. But Celeste?

Working on the space above the restaurant, he could do. After all, with Celeste running the restaurant, how involved could she really be in the day-to-day grunt work? But working alongside her on the festival when they butted heads like a couple of bighorn sheep?

What had he gotten himself into?

* * *

Gage was the last person Celeste wanted to see this morning. While she was more than grateful for his help last night, she was also embarrassed. What must he think of her, passing out on his porch in her pajamas—princess pajamas, no less—behaving like a crazed drama queen and then falling asleep on his daughter’s bed? He probably believed she was downright loony.

And now they’d be working together on a festival? God, You definitely have a sense of humor.

“I still have to wrap my brain around all that needs to be done, then I’ll lay out a plan of action.” Blakely’s blue eyes moved from Gage to Celeste. “Think we could meet in a day or two?”

“Should be fine.” Gage seemed less than enthused about the prospect.

“Sure.” Celeste scanned the restaurant, all too aware that she needed to see to her customers. “Now, about that cinnamon roll?”

“That would make my day, Celeste.”

She turned in the order before returning her attention to Gage. “How about you? Another roll? Some protein, maybe? Eggs?”

“No, I’m good. I need to get a move on.” He grabbed the pan of rolls and shoved out of his chair. “How much do I owe you?”

“Not a thing. I’m indebted to you for putting up with me last night.”

“I guess we’re even then.” He turned, then stopped. “My contact info is in the file. Just let me know what you decide.”

“I will. Thanks again, Gage.” Relief washed over her when he walked out the door. If his estimate fit her budget, she was ready to give him the green light and get her “suite” dreams on the path to becoming a reality.

When she looked back at Blakely, her friend was wearing a nice little smirk. “So, just what did Gage have to ‘put up with’ last night?”

Celeste’s cheeks grew warm. “Nothing like you’re thinking.” She removed Gage’s dishes, grabbed a rag from the sink beneath the counter and began wiping.

“Oh?” The arch of Blakely’s brow had Celeste blushing all the more. “And what am I thinking?”

She halted her cleaning. “Why did nobody tell me that bears roam around town at night?”

Blakely’s expression shifted to one of concern. “Why? What happened?”

“I had a close encounter with one in my garage.”

“Oh, no. What did you do?”

“I left, of course.” She tossed the rag back into the sink and leaned against the counter. “And discovered that Gage lives across the street from me.”

Blakely laughed. “What? Did he hear you screaming?”

“I didn’t scream.”

“Order up.”

She grabbed Blakely’s order, eyeing the two alongside it. “I banged on his door.” Without waiting for a response, she snagged the other orders and was on her way. Not so eager to hear what Blakely had to say next, she refilled coffee cups, delivered tickets and took someone’s money at the register while her friend ate.

“I forgot to ask how your meeting went yesterday.” Blakely licked a blob of frosting from her fork.

Thank goodness they were off the topic of bears. “Not bad. At least he has an appreciation for historical architecture.”

“Do you think you’re going to hire him?” There went that grin again.

“Possibly. I can’t say for certain until I see his quote.” No point in feeding Blakely’s sudden impulse to match her up with Gage. Celeste had no interest in being paired with anyone. Least of all, Gage Purcell.

For a Tuesday morning, Granny’s Kitchen had enjoyed a steady stream of customers, punctuated by the lunchtime arrival of a busload of senior citizens on a fall foliage tour. Finally, at two fifteen, Celeste had an opportunity to sit down in her office with a chicken salad sandwich and Gage’s quote.

Munching on a potato chip, she opened the folder. A detailed spreadsheet showed costs for everything from demolition to labor to materials, as well as estimates for plumbing and electrical. She reviewed the three pages, making note of the lengthy list of variables. Things that could potentially occur that would affect the cost and length of the project.

By the time she got to the end, she feared the project might be out of her reach. So she was pleasantly surprised by Gage’s bottom line. Not to mention the estimated completion date—January 1.

Bowing her head, she sent up a brief prayer of thanks. She knew God would send her the right contractor. Now she prayed that God would grant her the grace to overlook Gage’s sometimes surly disposition. Especially when it came to her input and expectations.

Finished with her meal, she pulled Gage’s business card from the folder. The sooner she gave him the go-ahead, the sooner he could start.

She picked up her cell phone.

“Celeste?” Karla poked her graying head around the corner. “Health inspector’s here.”

“Now?” She’d been anticipating a visit. And while she had nothing to hide, the timing could have been better.

By the time the inspector—who was very friendly, though a bit chatty—left, Celeste needed to set up for dinner. Thanks to Karla, the Mexican rice was simmering and enchiladas were in the oven, so tonight’s special was covered.

Celeste gave the fifty-something woman a hug. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Karla.”

“That’s quite all right, hon. I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t do yourself.”

Keeping one eye on the restaurant via the pass-through, Celeste grabbed a stack of red plastic baskets and lined each with a wax paper sheet so they’d be ready for tortilla chips later. Granny’s Kitchen always had more guests on enchilada night, so she wanted to be prepared. Next, she placed a stack of small bowls beside the baskets. They’d be needed for the salsa she made earlier in the day.

The door swung open then and two little blond-haired girls entered.

Celeste’s heart lightened as she rounded into the dining room.

“Celeste!” Cassidy and Emma cheered in unison when they saw her, sending her over the moon with delight.

She gave them each a hug, scanning the area outside for signs of their father.

“We want cupcakes.” Emma climbed onto a bar stool.

“No, Emma.” Her sister did likewise, though with more finesse. “It’s a cupcake class.”

“Oh, you mean you want to sign up for Cupcake Mania?” Celeste moved Emma to the center of her seat so she wouldn’t fall off.

“Uh-huh.” Emma’s head bobbed emphatically.

Celeste again watched for Gage. “Where’s your father?”

“He’s at the hardware store.” Cassidy adjusted the plastic headband that held her long hair away from her face. “But he said we could see if you were here.”

Something about that statement made her feel warm and fuzzy. “Well, I’m so glad you did.” She contemplated offering them a cookie, but decided against it since it was almost dinnertime.

“It smells good in here.” As if to prove her point, Emma took a deep breath through her nose.

“Well, thank you.” She patted the child’s back. “That’s always a good thing in a restaurant.”

“Can we eat here?” Emma looked at her, very matter-of-factly.

“I, uh...well...” Where are you, Gage? “That would be up to your father. But I’d certainly love to have you.” Boy, she needed to stay on her toes around this little one. “So, did your daddy tell you about the cupcake class?”

“No. My friend Bella said she was coming and that I should come, too.”

“And me,” Emma was quick to inject.

Out of the corner of her eye, Celeste saw Gage walk past the front windows.

He held the door open for Rose Daniels and Florence Griffin. “Ladies.”

The two elderly women were always first in on enchilada night. Although Celeste wasn’t sure if either one of them actually believed themselves to be elderly. They had more spunk and spirit than people half their age.

“Good evening, ladies.” She snagged two menus from beside the cash register.

“You can put those away, Celeste.” Rose, Blakely’s grandmother and one of Granny’s best friends, approached the counter. “Florence and I know exactly what we want.”

“Gage, these girls of yours are growing like weeds.” Florence fluffed her silvery hair, her hazel eyes bouncing between Cassidy and Emma.

“They sure are.” Gage took off his ball cap and ran a hand through his dark hair. “I don’t suppose you ladies could give me any pointers on how to prevent that, could you?”

Both women chuckled.

“Just enjoy them while you can,” said Florence.

“It was hard to tell you two youngsters from the big girls at Taryn’s wedding.” Rose’s smile reached her warm blue eyes as she regarded the girls. “Did you like getting all dressed up?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Cassidy.

“I likeded the cake best.” Leave it to Emma to speak her mind.

Celeste tucked the menus back in their place and followed the women to their usual booth at the center window, so they wouldn’t miss anything that might happen outside. “Two enchilada platters then?”

Rose unwrapped the silverware from her napkin, her gaze flitting toward the counter. “Gage always was a handsome one. And there’s nothing quite as attractive as a loving father.” She looked up at Celeste, the corner of her mouth lifted. “Wouldn’t you agree?”