The Bluebird Bakery--A Small Town Romance, page 4
“One hundred percent is for wimps.” He smiled to let her know he was joking, that he took safety seriously. “All kidding aside, I can tell the structure is basically sound. This breakoff was probably a once-in-a-lifetime thing, but I can look over the woodwork for you.”
“Why would you be willing to do that?”
“So I don’t get beaned in the night?” He tried for a joking tone.
“Good point.” She frowned. “It’s got to be a safe place or no one can stay here.”
“Show me the rest of it.”
As they walked around, he looked at the various views of the Chesapeake and felt something loosen inside him. Regardless of Taylor or the job, he’d have liked this apartment. It had the feel of being a lighthouse, up off the ground, windows all around. He had developed a dislike of closed-in dark places during that misty, confused time overseas.
And maybe he could help her fix things up. Staying busy, day and night, would help him make sure that his forgotten past stayed forgotten. Maybe even let him sleep. He didn’t have many possessions, just whatever he’d been able to fit into the well-used car he’d bought as soon as he’d arrived back in the states. He’d have to borrow some furniture from Mellie and Ryan. Having seen Mellie’s crowded basement, he figured that wouldn’t be a problem.
He looked out the window that faced the old Victorian. “Do you own that place, too?”
“No.” She looked a little wistful. “I’d like to buy it and fix it up to actually live in one day, if I ever...” She looked away with the slightest little sigh. “Well. I have plenty to focus on here in this building, as you’ve seen.”
If she ever what? Married and started a family? Why hadn’t she done that yet, anyway? He looked over at Taylor. “I like the place, and I can work on it, fix it up,” he said.
She lifted her hands, palms up, and laughed a little. “You’ve given me so many reasons to hire you,” she said.
“Then do it! As a trial.”
“You’ll live up to your responsibilities? Be flexible?”
He nodded, wondering. Did he have the job?
“Trial run it is,” she said, and they shook on it.
Now to convince her to keep him on long enough to exorcise his demons and get back on his feet.
* * *
SAVANNAH SAT INSIDE the Bluebird Bakery, mostly hidden by a potted plant, watching her sister.
She wanted nothing more than to throw herself into Taylor’s arms, but she held back. The years and what she’d been through had made her cautious.
Taylor was doing well, obviously. The bakery was darling, with its blue-checkered café curtains that let in the bright sunshine, the fragrance of bread and muffins, the little ceramic bluebirds on each table. The meaning of the bird motif wasn’t lost on Savannah, but truthfully, she was surprised. Birdy, their mother, had abandoned them in the worst way possible. Why was Taylor honoring her in the name and decor of her bakery?
But she couldn’t think about that just now. Now she had to see if her sister would accept her and give her a hand even after she’d fallen out of touch.
Taylor greeted each customer in a friendly way, got their food and took their money with scary efficiency, and moved them along. She had always been a good cook, and apparently, she was good at running a business, as well.
But she was tense. Savannah could tell that.
Was it because of how busy she was as a newish entrepreneur? Or was it chronic, just their childhood, the things that had made them both tense?
Whatever. It had made them resourceful, too. Savannah looked down at her trusty go-bag and ran her fingers through her hair, hoping the fact that she hadn’t washed it for two days wasn’t too apparent.
She wasn’t up to Rupert’s standards, but she’d pass for okay-looking on Teaberry Island.
She hadn’t heard from Rupert during the short time her cell phone had worked. She’d known he would cut it off as soon as he thought of it, or worse, that he’d use the GPS to track her. When the phone had gone dark, she’d been relieved at the choice he’d apparently made to wash his hands of her. Once she was even a few blocks and a few hours away from him, she’d felt a sweet rush of relief, wind beneath her out-of-practice wings.
That had been followed by some exhausting resourcefulness, but she’d made it here.
The bakery rush seemed to have ended. The last customer walked out the door with a wave and a few friendly words. Taylor was going to notice Savannah in a moment, so she’d better take the initiative herself. She went to the counter. “Ma’am, I’d like to try one of those teaberry muffins,” she said, her voice breaking just a little on the last word.
Taylor’s head shot up, and their eyes locked. For a moment, Savannah felt stark terror in her heart. What if Taylor shunned her, held all those ignored phone calls and unanswered letters against her?
“It’s you!” Taylor rushed around the counter and pulled her into a hug that felt like the best thing Savannah had ever experienced in her life.
She hugged her sister back. Sweet relief. Taylor still loved her. Taylor would help her find her way again.
“What have you been doing? How’d you get here? Oh my goodness, sit down, sit down.” Taylor let go of her and nudged her toward a table. She hurried to the door and flipped the sign to Closed, waving away the couple who were approaching. “Sorry, emergency,” she said out the door.
The two turned away, looking disgruntled.
“You don’t have to turn away business,” Savannah protested.
“It’s almost closing time. Let me get you something.” Taylor bustled behind the counter, bringing out tea and a muffin, then a coffee for herself. Taylor still remembered that she liked her tea with cream, and for some reason, that made Savannah’s eyes well up.
She wasn’t too teary to eat the muffin, though. She devoured it in three bites and wiped her mouth.
Taylor sat back in her chair, sipping coffee and watching her. “You’re not okay,” she said.
“I’ve had a couple rough days, but I’m fine,” she said.
“What do you mean? What happened?” Taylor frowned. “And why didn’t you call? You know I would’ve come and gotten you.”
“He cut off my phone.” There was no need to name the “he.” Taylor didn’t know Rupert, but she knew the type of man Savannah hooked up with. “It’s fine. I found places to stay.”
“Safe places?”
Savannah nodded. “I stayed at a church shelter the first night. Then a little motel outside Wilmington. I did okay, but...” She didn’t want to admit that she was almost broke. Nor that she’d chosen to spend her limited funds on a few more items of clothing rather than on food or decent shelter. “I would have figured out something else. I don’t want to impose on you or mess up your life, but I felt like...” Her throat tightened until she couldn’t get the words out.
Taylor was watching her quietly. “Like Mom?”
She nodded. “Like Mom.”
“Then you were right to come. I’ll—”
Loud banging on the door made them both jump. Savannah looked, and then stared out the door. “Is that...”
Taylor nodded, looking less than sure of herself for the first time. “Cody and Ryan,” she said.
Savannah leaned back and stared as Taylor walked over to the door. She hadn’t seen either of the foster brothers since that summer when they’d all been teenagers. Ryan had grown out of his awkwardness, gotten handsome. And Cody...
Cody had always been the best-looking boy on the island, and it seemed like he was now the best-looking man. She and Taylor had both fallen for him that summer they’d spent here, although of course, nothing had come of it.
Now there was something haunted in his expression, the way he carried himself, that struck a chord with Savannah.
Taylor opened the door. “You can take the back stairs,” she said without holding it wide enough for them to come in.
“I’ll pull the truck around.” Ryan returned to the street and got in a small pickup.
“And I’ll move my car.” Cody glanced past Taylor and saw Savannah. He did a double take. “Is that you, Savannah Harp?”
“Yeah.” She stood and went to him, hugged him. She’d always liked Cody. She should have, considering the fact that he was such a decent guy. Better than most of the ones she’d met since.
But what was his connection to Taylor? She looked at her sister.
“He’s moving in,” Taylor said gruffly, then turned to Cody. “And you might want to get started.”
“Sure.” He gave Savannah a little wave. “Good to see you,” he said and then strode away toward the side of the building.
Taylor watched him, her shoulders square.
Savannah hugged her sister from behind. “He’s moving in with you? That’s so cool!” Taylor was so independent that it was surprising to picture her as half of a couple. But then again, she didn’t know Taylor that well anymore. “I’m happy for you.”
“No, no, you’ve got it wrong. He’s moving into the other apartment, upstairs. He’s going to work for me. Looks like Ryan brought some furniture for him to use.”
“Oh.” That made more sense. Savannah nodded, swallowed. “So...can I stay with you? I know it’s a lot to ask, but I was hoping for a little bit of refuge to try and put my life back together. I want to get strong for myself. Stay away from men.”
“Good. And of course.” Taylor hesitated. “You can, for a little while. But my apartment’s tiny. And honestly...” She trailed off.
“What?”
“I’d worry about you and Cody, especially if you think you’d want to work here. You said you wanted to stay away from men.”
“Oh, Taylor.” Savannah sat back and tried to think of how to soothe Taylor’s anger about the past. Savannah had bent the truth, trying to excuse herself for some seriously bad behavior. But she couldn’t think of how to explain it in a way that would make sense to Taylor. In a way, her older sister was far more innocent than she was. “What happened wasn’t Cody’s fault, or not entirely. And it’s over and done. I have no interest in him.”
She could see Taylor wasn’t buying it. How could Savannah explain the worlds she’d lived in, what second-rank beauty pageants and third-rate modeling had been like? How many men there’d been between a high school summer love and now?
She couldn’t, so she didn’t try. “Anyway, I’m not a cook. I wouldn’t be much help around here. Know of any other jobs on the island?”
Savannah was seriously asking, but Taylor snorted. “You know how tiny it is. And how low the population is when it’s not tourist season.” And then her face brightened. “Although...wait a minute. I just might know of something. How are you with kids?”
“Inexperienced, but how hard can it be?” she asked, picturing a cute, cooing baby. Maybe working with a little one, or a roomful of them, would push back the darkness that kept trying to encroach on her.
Famous last words.
CHAPTER FOUR
AT 4:00 A.M., Taylor half walked, half stumbled out of her apartment. She and Savannah had stayed up past midnight, talking. Now she felt like her eyes were swollen shut.
A dark shape rose up on the stairs, and she shrieked.
The form backed away. “Sorry, sorry.” It was Cody. “I didn’t have a key to downstairs, so I waited here. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine. Let’s go.” Taylor felt awkward and covered it with a brusque tone. “We have a lot to do before the bakery opens at six thirty.”
She led the way down the stairwell, lit with a single dim light. Cold air blew in through the edges of the downstairs door, making it rattle. She unlocked the bakery door and flipped on the light.
She was sure she looked her absolute worst, on four hours of sleep and with no makeup. At her best, she was what people called cute. At 4:00 a.m., anyone who saw her might have other, less kind words to say. But working in a kitchen, there was no point in dolling yourself up. She usually slipped upstairs right before the bakery opened to wash her face, change her shirt and put on a little makeup. Terrifying the customers wasn’t good for business.
Cody apparently woke up handsome. His hair was a little mussed, and he hadn’t yet shaved, but the stubble just made him look like a movie star. It figured.
She pulled back her hair, put on a hairnet and handed him one, then turned to wash her hands. “Our most popular item is scones, so we’ll start with that,” she said. She showed him where flour, sugar, baking powder and salt were, and the proportions in which to toss them into the large mixer bowl. She pulled butter out of the freezer. “We freeze it and grate it, or the scones won’t be the right texture,” she explained, and showed him how. He mixed while she started batter for teaberry muffins.
“I think it’s ready,” he said a few minutes later.
She came over to check. “Perfect. Now, heavy cream.” She pulled it out of the fridge. “Eggs, vanilla. We’ll mix that up, and then do a couple different add-ins. Teaberries for one batch, and for the other...” She paused, thinking.
“Lemon,” he suggested.
“Lemon poppy seed. People love that.” The flavor decided, she showed him how to mix in the wet ingredients without overworking the batter, how to form the dough into disks and cut wedges. She explained the importance of refrigerating the formed scones for a bit before baking. “I usually do half an hour,” she said, “but we’re behind, so fifteen minutes will do.”
“Sorry. I’ve held you back.”
“You gotta learn. We’ll put you behind the counter, and all the ladies will be fine with things being slow.”
Her cheeks went hot as soon as she said it, and she looked at his face. “Sorry, that was objectifying you.”
“It’s okay.”
She liked that he didn’t pretend he didn’t know what she meant. He was gorgeous and had probably benefitted from that all his life. Certainly, when they’d been teenagers, his looks had been one reason he and Savannah had been pushed together. Savannah was the female equivalent of him in terms of attractiveness, whereas Taylor was just...not.
A distant memory surfaced, more a feeling than an event: the day she’d realized he had switched his affections from her to her sister. Even then, she hadn’t been shocked, but it had definitely hurt. She’d thought he was different.
She refocused on the task in front of them, showed him how to mix up muffins. When it was time, they brushed the scones with more heavy cream and slid them into the rotating rack oven alongside the muffins.
“And now we have twenty minutes to get presentable,” she said. “People will be at the door at six thirty sharp, and we need everything ready to go by then.” She forced a tired smile. “Eventually, once you’ve learned the ropes and the recipes, I’ll leave you to the night and early morning baking, and I’ll handle the daytime. For now, though, I’d like you to work some daytime hours, too, see how the business operates.”
He nodded, and they both trotted upstairs. Taylor tiptoed past Savannah, who was sleeping on the couch, and made her way to her bedroom.
She could have taken a little extra care with her makeup, or put on a cuter-than-usual shirt, but she didn’t. Her pride wouldn’t allow it. On a small, gossipy island, people would notice and suspect the reason.
It wasn’t that she liked Cody. But more that she didn’t want to appear pathetically inadequate working beside him. However, if she primped and then he went for Savannah, it would be an echo of her teenage humiliation. No way was she going to do anything to bring that on.
When she came out of the shower, ready to go downstairs, Savannah stirred. “You need help?” she asked sleepily.
She looked stunning, even just getting out of bed. Hair tousled perfectly, skin flawless. No shadows under her eyes.
Some people just got extra doses of the genetic endowment of beauty, and Savannah was one of them. Taylor was used to that, resigned to it; she even saw where Savannah was sometimes at a disadvantage because all that people could see was her beauty.
“No, I’m fine. Go back to sleep. You need to rest up for your interview.”
“Right.” Savannah leaned back and watched Taylor. “Can’t believe you get up this early every day.”
“I love it,” Taylor said simply. “And...” She consulted the clock on the wall. “I’ve got scones to get out of the oven before they burn.”
“They smell fabulous. I’ll be down soon to score a couple of them.”
And as for Taylor, she was about to see how Cody did facing the public.
* * *
CODY HADN’T EXPECTED to be working the counter, but after just an hour in the bakery, he realized it was inevitable. Not because she thought he’d impress the ladies, though he did like the idea that Taylor found him good-looking. But because in a small business, everybody did everything.
They were too busy, and were working too closely together, to allow him to stay behind the scenes. Taylor would come in the kitchen or call back and ask him to help her carry something out, or to bring something. Then he’d end up answering a customer’s question, or trying to. “Were these baked today?” was a common one, and he did know the answer to that.
And then Taylor had to run to check on something, because she truly was the skilled one in their team. And after a short lesson, he found he could ring things up pretty well.
Pretty well, that is, until a man he’d never expected to see again walked into the bakery.
“Heard you were back in town,” Manson said. He gave a disgusted look around the bakery. “Bit of a comedown, from the 82nd Airborne to a shop cashier.”
Manson wasn’t wrong about the comedown, and Cody didn’t fault him for the attitude, either. What Cody had done to him had been downright mean, and all out of his own cockiness. “We all do what we can to scratch out a living,” he said. “This is what works for me now. Can I get you something?”
