The Chef's Mail Order Bride: A Sweet Western Historical Romance (Wild West Frontier Brides Book 1) (11 page)

B
y the time
they’d had a cup of tea, she’d laid out her plan. She’d reminded him that everyone who tasted his trail dishes had said they were even better than before he went to school.

“Katie would love that,” he said as he listened.

“And if that many people came to the ranch and loved your food, they’ll be eager to come to the restaurant as well, right?”

“Well, I suppose so,” he said slowly.

“And what if we still had the menu we have now every Sunday night, for those people who love that, too? We could surely fill the house several times with those people if they’re all coming on the same evening,” she said triumphantly, sure he’d agree.

And, sure enough, he did.

He agreed to
try
it, that is. She decided that that was better than a flat-out refusal, and she set to work.

At the kitchen table, Sadie hastily made up a list of the things people seemed most interested in, writing the last item with a flourish and handing it to him with a smile.

He reached for it, his expression not nearly as happy as hers.

“Are you sure we should do this?”

“Tripp, you did the figures yourself. It’s our only option. To try something different or lose the restaurant. I certainly don’t want that to happen and I’m positive you don’t, either.”

She walked around the table behind him, resting her hands on his shoulders.

He rested his hands on hers and squeezed. “I don’t know how I got so lucky to find a partner who actually cares about this business—and me.”

She rested her chin on his head and hugged him, saying, “I’m glad you think so. I feel pretty lucky myself. It must be my lucky apron.”

His head popped up as he smiled. “You said you’d tell me about that if I told you about the trail,” he said.

“Ah, that I did.”

She sat down on the stool and cleared her throat. “I imagine that Suzanne told you about our parents dying. In an accident, too, just like yours. But I was much older.”

“I did hear about that, Sadie. I am very sorry. And then you lost the bakery?

She looked up at him, fiddling with the hem of her robe. “I didn’t lose it, exactly.”

His eyebrows rose as he studied her. “But I thought—”

“You remember that James and Suzanne offered to loan you the money for the restaurant?”

She leaned against the counter, her hands folded in front of her.

“Well, yes. I wonder why they didn’t offer the same to you? I guess I hadn’t really thought about that.”

She smiled as she let out a sigh. “They did.”

Tripp plopped down on the stool, rubbing his forehead. “I’m confused, Sadie. I thought you loved the bakery.”

“I did, Tripp. But with the bank at my back, working that hard, not having much of a life—well, I declined. In the same letter I received from Suzanne offering the loan, she also said someone here needed a wife…and a partner. I made my choice right then and there.”

He stood and walked to her, taking her hands in his.

“Are you telling me that you…wanted to come? You didn’t have to, but you wanted to?”

She looked down at their hands, loving the feel of his.

“Suzanne said that she felt this was something that I needed to do. You know about the twin connection—I just trusted her. And wanted an adventure.”

“And you’re not sorry?” he said, pulling her chin up so their eyes met.

Without hesitation, she said, “Not one little bit, Tripp Morgan. This
has
been an adventure, and I could never have imagined what an exciting one it would be.”

“I had no idea either, Sadie,” he said, not taking his eyes from hers.

She pulled her hands back, although she couldn’t think of anywhere else she’d rather be. She’d just confessed her feelings for him, and wasn’t at all sure still how he felt about her.

Just as she opened her mouth to say it was time for bed, he said, “That still doesn’t explain the apron, though.”

She stepped around him, reaching for her cup of tea. “At the end of our last day at the bakery, where we’d given all of the pastries, bread—everything—away for free, I felt incredibly free. But my assistant, Clara, had been my lifelong friend and had worked in the bakery almost as long as I had.”

He sat back down as she continued.

“At the end of the last day, as we were saying our goodbyes, she untied her apron, lifted it over her head and told me how envious she was of me, for choosing a new life. And that I needed to wear the apron forever, so she could watch over me.”

She walked over to where the apron hung and lifted the blue fabric. “It’s been with me every day since.”

He laughed, and said, “Yes, I’ve noticed.”

She smiled as she turned back toward him. “And it’s proven to be pretty lucky after all, don’t you think?”

“I sure do. Thank you for telling me, Sadie. I’m sorry that I got upset earlier. And thank you for one last ditch effort,” he said, standing and turning toward her. “And I’m awfully sorry for what I said earlier. I behaved badly, and I hope you can forgive me.”

He opened his arms to her, and she stepped toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

He pulled back, staring at her intently, as if he was seeing her for the first time. She didn’t quite know what to say as he reached up and put a stray lock of her hair behind her ear.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen your hair down before, Mrs. Morgan. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

Heat crept into her cheeks as she pulled away, her hand reaching to her hair. “Well, thank you, Mr. Morgan,” she said with a smile as she changed the subject. “And thank you for agreeing to try this. I really think it’s going to be wonderful.”

She started toward the door.

“One thing, Sadie. If we do this tomorrow, is there enough time to get the word out? Won’t people be expecting the regular menu?”

The corners of her lips turned up as she winked at him. As she headed to the stairs to rest up for tomorrow’s event, she said, “You leave that part to me.”

S
adie’s eyes
flew open at the first robin’s chirp, the sun not even over the horizon yet. She could barely contain her excitement as she dressed, set breakfast out for Tripp and left a note saying she was going in early.

Her feet hurt, her skirts flying as she hurried to the restaurant, hoping that she was in time. She breathed a sigh of relief as she rounded the corner and saw Mr. Lewis sitting on the stoop, waiting for her. She rested her hand on her heaving chest as she fought to catch her breath.

He held out the now-familiar coin bag to her as he stood and tipped his hat.

“Morning, Mrs. Morgan. Is everything all right?” he said as he stepped down off of the stoop, his hands reaching out to her elbow to help steady her.

As her breath evened, she was able to say, “Mr. Lewis,” but that was about it. “I’m fine.”

She tried to smile so as not to alarm him, and as she did, his eyebrows rose and she imagined that her smile appeared more like a grimace.

She took in one last, deep breath, unlocked the door to the restaurant and waved for him to follow her inside.

The stools screeched against the floor as she brought them over to the other side, gesturing for him to sit. He’d taken off his hat and held it in his hand as he glanced from side to side, his foot bouncing on the floor.

“Mr. Lewis, please don’t be alarmed, but I need your help. With the meat pies,” she said.

His forehead smoothed as he breathed a heavy sigh.

“Oh, Mrs. Morgan, you had me mighty frightened there for a minute. Whew,” he said, taking out his handkerchief and wiping his brow.

Her eyebrows ticked up, and she quickly said, “Oh, I’m so sorry to have worried you. That wasn’t my intention.”

She stoked the fire, set the coffeepot on the stove and turned back to him.

“You’ve enjoyed the meat pies? I am assuming so based on the bag of dimes you bring me every day,” she said, jingling the bag in the air.

He turned his hat around on his lap as he spoke. “Yes, ma’am, they’re very popular. I could sell more if you could make them that fast.”

“I’m afraid I have some difficult news to share.”

Sadie sat back down on the stool and turned toward her guest. “The restaurant does not have enough patrons to pay the bills, Mr. Lewis. If we don’t find a way to change that, I won’t be able to make any meat pies at all.”

Mr. Lewis stood, the stool scooting back as he did.

“No, Mrs. Morgan, that would be a tragedy. A true culinary tragedy,” he said, holding his hat over his heart.

Sadie stifled a grin. She wasn’t sure that the lack of meat pies was truly a culinary tragedy—but maybe it was, and maybe that was the missing piece of the puzzle.

“Mr. Lewis, you’d said when we first met that there were many bachelors here who didn’t have a simple, easy place to eat supper. Is that still the case?”

“Yes, ma’am. And nobody to fix up their lunches for them, either. And they don’t give us much time to eat down in the mines. Need something quick, anyway.”

“And you’d said before that you weren’t sure about the type of food that was on the menu here at the restaurant.”

“Well, ma’am, I’m not all that sophisticated when it comes to food. I know what I like and I really don’t care to know no more. Oh, sorry about that, ma’am. Didn’t mean to offend.”

Reaching for coffee mugs, she said over her shoulder, “None taken, Mr. Lewis. But I wanted to let you know that the menu is changing. Tonight.”

His eyes widened as he said, “It is? No more Chicken Frackey?”

She hung her head, a smile playing on her lips, and sighed.

“Not tonight. Tonight, my husband is fixing the favorites from when he cooked on the trail. And I’ll be selling meat pies from the restaurant, either to eat here or to take home for tomorrow’s lunch.”

She turned toward him, surprised as a smile broke out over his face.

“Oh, ma’am, you don’t know what good news that is. Your husband is a legend. People still talk about how good his chili was, and nobody can figure out how he did it on the trail, no less.”

She clapped her hands together, surprised that Mr. Lewis had heard of Tripp. She hadn’t been around town all that long, though, and hadn’t spent much time outside the restaurant, so it would not be unusual that she hadn’t known that. Her heart fluttered. Even better that he had a reputation and was missed.

“His dishes are as good as they were, and new and improved with what he learned in New York,” she said, pulling on her apron and tying it behind her. “And the meat pies will be ready tonight at the restaurant, Mr. Lewis. I’m sorry that we’ll have to skip a lunch for your friends, but if you would spread the word about the menu for tonight, I’d be awfully grateful.”

He opened the door and stepped outside.

“Oh, that’s all right, Mrs. Morgan. I can wait ’til tonight, and I reckon everyone else can, too. See you this evening,” he said as he tipped his hat once more and strode off in the direction of the mine.

“Partners,” Tripp had said the night before. She was beginning to like the sound of that and didn’t want it to end.

She clasped her hands once more, glancing upward, as she said a quick prayer that her plan would work. She set about getting out the ingredients she needed, hurrying to make as many as she needed before Tripp came in to commence his part of the plan.

T
hey had
to rush to prepare, but things couldn’t have gone more smoothly. They’d gotten to know each other—in the kitchen—quite well in the past weeks, and they had developed their own distinct rhythm, almost like a dance. Now, she frequently knew what he needed before he asked, so they were prepared quickly. It helped a great deal that Tripp had set aside his menu cards, and all of the recipes for these dishes resided squarely inside his head.

While Sadie chopped and diced for him, she also continued to make her meat pies. He’d asked her about them when he came in, laughing as he pointed out to her that she was covered in flour.

“Oh,” she said as she looked down at her lucky apron, noticing that it was more white with flour than its regular cornflower blue.

“I guess I’ve really been busy,” she said, smiling and handing him a meat pie. “I thought we could make some of these available tonight, too,” she said, as his eyebrows rose while he chewed.

“This is delicious. That’s a wonderful idea, if you don’t mind making them. You haven’t been cooking much lately on your own. You sure you have time?”

She turned, her hand stifling her laugh.

“Absolutely. No problem at all,” she’d said as she reached into the pantry for the ingredients he’d asked for, getting ready to prep for the evening’s menu.

Now, after they’d been at it for several hours, she put the last of the ingredient bowls away. Tripp wiped his hands on a towel, taking a look around the kitchen, his green eyes twinkling.

“What is it, Tripp,” she said, wiping her own hands on her apron and sitting down on a stool.

“You don’t notice anything different?” he asked, as he sat on the stool opposite her.

She looked around, her brows furrowed.

“Okay, I’ll help you,” he said, taking her hand. “When was the last time we were able to sit down before the restaurant opened? When everything was ready beforehand.”

She let out a whoosh of breath as she realized he was right. This was the first time they’d been ready…before the doors had opened.

“And you know what the best part is?” he asked, sweeping his arm around the kitchen. “Everything is ready. The biscuits are done, the stew is in the pot, the requested chili is also ready and the meat pies are stacked and ready to go. The coffee is made, the dessert is in the icebox.”

“That’s a really good thing, you two,” Suzanne said as she rushed in the door, slamming it behind her. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Customers are waiting out front, and the line goes all the way past the mercantile.”

She fanned herself for a moment, catching her breath. “I hope you’re prepared for this.”

Sadie and Tripp looked quickly from Suzanne to each other, their wide smiles mirroring each other’s. Tripp stood, grabbing Sadie’s hand and pulling her up. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks as he pulled her close, whispering, “Thank you,” in her ear before he brushed his lips on her cheek and turned to put his own apron on.

Sadie’s heart fluttered as she turned to Suzanne, whose hand was clamped over her mouth, her eyes wide. Sadie laughed, grabbing Suzanne’s apron and handing it to her as she pushed her out the door into the dining room.

“I saw that, Sadie. Has he done that before? The way he looked at you—“

“Enough, sister,” she said, taking Sadie’s elbow and heading for the door. She looked out the window, her jaw dropping at the sight of the line of people snaking down the road. “We have something more urgent to think about.”