Beauty and the Brit (41 page)
“How-dee, Stray-jer.”
Lester burst into “Colonel Bogey.”
It was like coming home. She’d grown to love The Loon Feather.
“Got her off okay?” Bud asked, as she rounded the counter from the dining room now filling with breakfast customers.
“I did. She was so excited.”
“And you? Feeling any better?”
“Better?”
“You’ve been pretty down the past few days. Been worried about you, but I figured you were just concerned about Bonnie.”
She lowered her eyes, filtering the sympathetic words through embarrassment. “It’s true, and believe me, it’s nice to have you and The Loon for comfort.”
“We’re glad you like it here. We like having you.” Claudia appeared from the office behind the kitchen pushing another woman in a wheelchair. Rio recognized the plump lady with the salt-and-pepper hair and the effusive smile immediately, even though she’d never met her.
“Effie!”
“It’s so good to meet you at last, Rio.” Effie held out her hands and took both of Rio’s. “I didn’t quite believe you were real, I’ve heard so many good things.”
“Oh, please tell me you didn’t listen to them all.”
“I don’t think my Bud would fib about a cook. Besides, I had a slice of your pie for breakfast. I have nothing to teach you, young lady, and everything to be worried about.”
She didn’t look worried. The fog Rio had lived under all week, lifted slightly.
“We’re all here to celebrate this.” Bud handed her a pretty, fall-themed menu insert.
“What?”
Claudia pointed to the heading “Limited Time Fall Specials.” Beneath it were Rio’s two dishes. “Time to put all our testing on the line.”
For the first time in days Rio grinned easily. “It’s pretty much a dream come true.”
“Well, let’s get started,” Bud said. “It’ll get plenty real awfully fast.”
The first batches of Irish Stew and the new meatball casserole were ready by 11:30 a.m., and the first compliments came in with the first orders. Rio took her turn out front to help Claudia when Vince arrived to help in back. The day hummed along like perfect choreography.
“Hi, Rio!”
She looked up from the register to see Nora Pint waiting for a seat. She’d been into Nora’s tattoo parlor just to check out her artwork, and Nora came regularly to The Loon for lunch. Theirs was turning into an easy friendship.
“Hey, Nora. How’s business?”
“Always slow come fall, but okay. I heard about your new lunch specials and had to come check ’em out.”
Her face, broad-cheeked and guileless, registered pleasure even before she sat down.
“And to think I ever bemoaned small-town gossip.” Rio smiled. “Is your brother coming?”
“Damian? Yes, but he’s finishing up an intricate skull with a bandana eye patch and a pink rose in its teeth.”
“Yikes. C’mon and wait. There’s a good window table left.”
“Hey, is there some woman staying out with David these days? And a tall, thin man. Slightly Ichabod Crane–ish only nicer looking?”
“Yeah,” Rio replied. “A couple of other houseguests. Why?”
“Tiffany at the bakery said they stopped in earlier and bought out her entire supply of doughnuts. Told her they were celebrating because Ichabod agreed to be David’s partner. What’s that about?”
Nora might as well have blown a cannonball into her gut.
“Rio?”
“I . . . sorry. I have no idea what David’s up to,” she lied. “If I . . . hear anything, I’ll let you know.”
She knew absolutely she had no moral authority to be pissed off. This was David’s decision. Nonetheless, she was beyond pissed off. He was surrendering before he’d even begun to fight.
“What’s the matter, honey?” Claudia asked when Rio brought Nora’s order to the counter.
“Nothing,” she said. Mortified, she felt a tear roll down her cheek.
“Come with me.”
Claudia pulled her into the office and closed the door. “Something big just happened,” she said. “Tell me.”
What difference would it make if she did tell? You trusted people, told them things, and they went away. Or they lied. Or they tried to sell their sisters to gangland pimps. Rio spilled her entire story—from the troubles with Hector, to the failed sting, to her weekend with David. And she had to hint, disloyally, about David’s troubles, too, in order to explain about Carter.
“And this hurts because I’ve fallen in love with him,” she finished.
The words surprised her a little. But only a little. They were true.
“He’s a good man, Rio. And you’re a good woman. You’d complement each other.”
“He told me he wouldn’t sell out. And, yes, it’s his decision. But why tell me a lie?”
“Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he’s had some time to decide it isn’t a bad idea for him.”
“Maybe.”
Claudia stroked Rio’s hair. “I can’t tell you what to do or how to love. But say a little prayer, right now. Just ask for guidance and then let it go out into the Universe.”
“Prayers.” Rio scoffed. “I lived on prayers when my dad would go out on the road. Or Paul would go out with his friends. Not too sure about prayers.”
“You’d be surprised at what a little faith can do.”
“Well. All I care about is knowing what to do. I don’t want to leave David’s. I don’t want to stay. I can’t afford my own place yet. I used to be good at problem-solving.”
“So ask for the problem to be solved. What the heck, right?”
Rio laughed. Claudia’s doctrine seemed to be as rigid as her long, gray, hippie braid. And yet, it felt strong and genuine.
“All right. For you I’ll try anything.”
A sharp knock on the door ended their conversation. Claudia opened the door and Rio half-jokingly turned her eyes upward. “Okay,” she said. “If You’ve got a solution, now’s pretty much the time.”
“Hey, Rio.” Bud stood in the doorway. “There’s a customer out here insisting on speaking to the cook.”
T
HE CUSTOMER’S NAME
was Don Sterling. His thick brush mustache gave him a Sam-Elliott-in-handsome-middle-age look, but he spoke like an East Coast businessman. He had three plates in front of him and an expression of sublime enjoyment on his face. The first thing he did was hand Rio a business card.
“It’s nice to meet you. They tell me you’re the cook behind these dishes.”
“Yes.”
“Serendipity brought me here,” he said. “But I think you may be the person I’m looking for.” His mustache lifted and he held out his hand.
“I . . . don’t understand.” She shook it and, at his invitation, sat across from him.
“I run a ranch near Sheridan, Wyoming. The Coyote Creek. We cater to guests—a fancy of way of saying it’s a dude ranch. We’re pretty successful, but last year we suffered a devastating fire and have just rebuilt.”
Rio’s mouth went dry and her pulse nearly suffocated her. Fire? Wyoming? Was this a joke?
“My old chef and his assistant recently retired. I have a new head chef, but I need someone fresh, someone with down-home cooking skills, to work with him. I’m finishing a road trip and happened to stop here for lunch. Honestly? This is some of the best-tasting, hearty food I’ve come across. You aren’t by any chance looking for a change in jobs, are you?”
Rio looked around for hidden cameras.
“I . . . hadn’t been looking. But, Mr. Sterling, I’m not a chef. I’ve worked in diners. I have no formal training.”
“I have staff to train you. But if you developed these recipes on your own, you have the raw talent I’d love to nurture.”
T
HE KITCHEN FLOOR
creaked beneath his pacing. David looked at the clock for the fiftieth time in half an hour. Bonnie was due home any time, and Rio wouldn’t miss that. She should have been home two hours ago, and today, of all days, he’d been counting on having the afternoon with her.
Not that he was looking forward to what he had to say. But he had to get to her before Kate or Carter did.
She entered, finally, five minutes later, laden with a bakery box and a Mylar balloon. He grinned just seeing her, but the dull question in her eyes sent his hopeful mood plummeting. He’d had his speech all planned. But she already knew.
“Good day?” he asked.
“Great day.” She set her box on the counter and tied the balloon to a drawer handle. “And I understand you’ve had a momentous day yourself.”
Too calm. She was far too calm. “Rio, forgive me. I’ve been waiting here all afternoon to tell you what’s going on. How did you find out?”
“Kate and Carter spilled the beans at The Bread Basket, and that’s all it takes. I work at Kennison Falls Gossip Central, remember.”
“Can we talk about this? It’s not what you think.”
“David. I have absolutely no say in what business decisions you make. You don’t have to talk to me about anything.”
“I think we’ve shared far too much for that to be true.” He took one of her arms and pulled her close. “I do not take us for granted. I don’t take making love with you last weekend for granted either. You’ve given me so much more than you know, and you’re invested in this place. I understand why you’re upset.”
“Thank you.” A softening in her features sent her color higher.
Lord, she was beautiful. He slipped a kiss onto her cherry lips. She even tasted like cherries, and apples, and vanilla. She kissed him back, so sweetly it shouldn’t have meant anything, but his body responded as it always did—coming to full alert, hungry for the next step. But she pulled away.
“It’s a trial is all. Six months. Just a lease. If it works, we’ll move forward.”
“It sounds well-planned and perfect for you.”
“But you don’t really think it is.”
She put a finger on his lips. “I told you. It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“Why?”
“Because—” He stopped, surprised at what he was going to say. “Because I’ve come to care about all your opinions. I care about you.”
That certainly hadn’t come out right. Too stiff and formal. But he didn’t know what right was. Her ideas and enthusiasm always gave him confidence. But Kate had been right, too. All the phone calls in the world wouldn’t find enough discounted hay and merchandise to make a difference. And he couldn’t give Rio any kind of life if he didn’t fix his troubles.
“I got a job offer.”
Her words jolted him out of his thoughts. “A what? What kind of offer?”
“If it’s legitimate, it’s my dream on a silver platter.”
The Cinderella story she wove after that sounded shady as hell to him. When she mentioned salary and benefits, panic hit his system. He could lose her to this nonsense.
“That’s utter madness, Rio. You can’t do something that foolish.”
Wrong words again. She stiffened and backed away. “Why would you say that? I’ve told you more about my dreams than anyone.”
“But a bloke appearing out of nowhere with a ranch, and a cooking job, and an arse-load of money? Can’t you see the stranger with the candy here? Maybe he goes around the country spinning this little fable and enticing unsuspecting women to some completely different kind of ranch.”
“For crying out loud. I’m not brainless. I’m not packing up and striking out tomorrow. I wasn’t even promised a job. I’d have to apply. It’s just something to look into.” She let the words simmer momentarily. “Hmmm. Where have I heard that speech before?”
“Rio. Don’t. Stay with me. Let’s see where this goes. Us.”
He could see the conflict in her eyes just as Bonnie burst into the room with Dawson right behind her.
“Hey! Welcome home.” Rio’s brightness returned, but David saw it for the cover-up it was. “How was Day One?”
“Fantastic!” Bonnie hopped to the kitchen island and gave her sister a quick hug. Then she surprised David by giving him the same. “Would you believe a school without metal detectors? And they let you go outside for lunch. And my precalc teacher is a hunk.”
“Nice,” Dawson said, ogling the box Rio had brought home. “I’m right here.”
“You’re hot,” Bonnie said. “There’s a difference.”
“All right, you two. Happy first day of school. Have some cake. Where’s Kim?” Rio nodded for Dawson to open the box.
“Already in the barn,” Bonnie said.
“Chocolate,” Dawson murmured, obviously in love.
“Look who I found!”
Everyone turned, wide-eyed, when Stella entered from the living room with Chief Hewett behind her.
“Can a cop with news join the party?” he asked.
David had never seen the man with a full smile. He stuck out his hand. “You look like a cop with good news.”
“Most of it is.”
Before the chief could start, David’s father and Carter rushed through the back door. “We saw a police car,” Carter began, and stopped at the sight of Hewett holding court in the kitchen.
“Is everything quite all right?” his father asked.
“Good. Everyone’s here,” Hewett said. “This affects the entire household. Minneapolis police picked up a Mr. Jeffrey Iverson this morning in his science classroom at a suburban high school north of Minneapolis. Mr. Iverson was, in fact, Minnesota’s Teacher of the Year four years ago.”
“Iverson,” Rio said, setting a hand over her heart. “The money clip.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The chief grinned. “He also has an alleged alias.”
“Boyfriend,” she whispered.
“I thought you’d all want to know. Bonnie, you’ll be contacted soon now about making your official identification.”
“Okay!”
“This is wonderful, thank you,” Rio said. “What about Hector and Paul?”
“Well, that’s my bad news. We have evidence Mr. Black left the city, perhaps the state. Your brother hasn’t been seen.”
“Could I try to call him?”
David didn’t want her anywhere near her brother, nor did he want Bonnie to find any reason to help or forgive Hector, so his heart fell when Hewett agreed.
“It might be good for him to know Iverson’s been taken into custody. Perhaps Paul still knows how to contact Mr. Black.”
“I’ll call him now and put it on speaker phone in case he says something you need.”
She dialed Paul’s number with visibly trembling hands and closed her eyes as if in prayer.
“Hello—” The voice David had only heard a handful of times answered.
“Paul! Paul, is—”
