Authors: Cindy Caldwell
S
he headed
to her room for a bit after breakfast, wondering when they’d discuss the opening night’s successes and challenges. She’d decided to go downstairs and ask but she heard a soft knock on her bedroom door.
“Sadie?” said Tripp from the other side.
“Yes?”
“It’s a beautiful day and we don’t have to be at the restaurant today. Would you like to pack a picnic and head out into the country? I’d love to show you around.”
She took a quick glance in the mirror, tucking some loose hair back into her bun. She walked to the door and opened it, startling Tripp.
“Oh. Hello. So, what do you think?”
She eyed him thoughtfully before saying, “Who’s packing the picnic? You or me?”
He smiled from ear to ear as she turned back to her room.
“Is it all right if I come in?” He looked uncomfortable standing outside the door, shifting from foot to foot and she gestured for him to enter.
He made it as far as a foot past the door jamb before he backed up and leaned against the door, his arms folded over his chest. “I thought I would, if it’s all right with you. You’ve been working pretty hard. Unless you have something special in mind.”
“How can you cook up your specialties if we’re on a picnic?” she asked as she reached for a shawl.
“Never you mind that, Sadie. I have other tricks up my sleeve. I’m going to run to the restaurant and I’ll be right back. Be ready,” he said as he turned and hurried down the stairs.
Her smile returned, both inside and out. She watched out the window as he ran—yes, ran—toward the restaurant with a big basket thrown over his shoulder.
As she had a little time, she combed out her hair that had become a mess while she laid down, and twirled it back up in its characteristic position.
As she put in the last pin, she looked at herself in the mirror and wondered how Tripp saw her. Suzanne had known him for a long time, and although they were twins, Suzanne was much more delicate and took her time with her clothes and hair. Sadie, on the other hand, had been working at the bakery so long that she knew how to do her hair one way…up, and out of the way.
She turned away from the mirror as her stomach fluttered, wishing she had more of Suzanne’s graces—social and otherwise. She closed her eyes and turned again to the mirror. Opening them, she saw her blonde hair and blue eyes differently, almost as if she were looking at Suzanne, and determined to ask Suzanne next time they were together to show her a little about how to be more like…a woman.
S
he’d made
it downstairs with her shawl and had gathered a blanket in preparation for their picnic. As she bustled around the kitchen, her anticipation grew and she knew she was growing attached to this town—if not more.
Tripp bounded back in the front door, carrying the basket he’d taken with two hands, and she wondered what could possibly be in it.
He set the basket down by the door with a smile and said, “No peeking.” And with that, he headed back out the door, she presumed to hitch up the horses and get the buggy.
She paced a little bit, looking for something to put the blanket and plates in, and kept eyeing the basket, dying to “peek”. On the fifth pass, her hand was just at the top of the basket when he opened the door and she bolted upright, plastering a smile on her face.
“I saw that,” he said, snatching the basket away from her. “Glad I caught you before you could do it.”
“What? I wasn’t doing anything,” she said, picking up the blanket and utensils.
“Uh-huh,” he said as he gestured for her to go out the door and to the buggy.
She lifted her chin as she climbed into the buggy, sure that he hadn’t known what she was thinking. Hoping that whatever he
did
have in the basket was not only edible, but good.
They traveled in comfortable silence for a while as she watched the buildings of the town grow further apart and then absent altogether. As the hills grew larger, she noticed the terrain change from cactus and mesquite trees to a little more lush greenery, and soon, she heard what she thought was water rushing nearby.
She marveled at the change in the vegetation as Tripp pulled up to a pinyon pine tree and hopped out of the buggy, securing the horses on one of its low-lying branches.
She had started to get out when she heard, “Hold up there, Mrs. Morgan,” and watched as he trotted around to her side of the buggy and held up his hand to help her out. She lifted her skirts—just a little—and hopped down, meeting his eyes as they stood next to the rushing stream.
“I’d better get the basket,” Tripp said, dropping her hand and moving toward the back of the buggy. She turned toward the stream, drawn to it like a magnet. She’d seen nothing like it in Chicago, obviously, and had spent very little time out of the city. She was mesmerized and walked slowly toward the sound of the rushing water.
“Sadie?” Tripp said as he lifted the basket out of the back of the buggy.
His voice jolted her out of her trance and she turned to him. “Yes? Sorry, I’ve never seen an actual stream before. It’s lovely…the sight, the sound
and
the smell,” she said, turning back toward the rushing water.
Tripp gazed at the stream and said, “I know what you mean. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here, and I guess I missed it, too. Why don’t you walk down to the water and I’ll set up lunch. Be careful, though. The water can be deceiving. It moves pretty fast.”
“Thank you,” she said as she moved toward the banks of the stream.
When she arrived, she watched the water bubble over the beautiful boulders, and noticed an occasional fish in the spray. She smiled, and found herself wanting to touch it. She knelt down at the bank, where the water was more calm, and put her hand in. She pulled back as it was cold to the touch, but something made her want to feel it more. She just had to.
She unbuttoned her shoes, placing them on a boulder to her side. Enamored with the rush of the water, she rolled down her stockings and put in first one toe and then a whole foot.
She closed her eyes and sighed at the delicious sensation of the cool water running over her feet. She noticed the hem of her dress was getting wet and pulled it a little higher as she wrapped her arms around her knees, enjoying the feeling of the water like she never had before.
She was lost in the sound and the sensations, and jumped when she heard Tripp’s voice as he bounded into the clearing. “Sadie, lunch is…”
She turned as he stopped, his eyes wide as he quickly turned around when he spotted her. Her brows knitted as she wondered what he was looking at. She turned and groaned inwardly as she noticed that her dress was up to her knees, her milky white calves and feet exposed and nearly in the water.
She scrambled up, hastily pulling her stockings on and buttoning her shoes over them. She rushed back to the buggy and found Tripp petting the horses, looking in the exact opposite direction that she’d come from. She smiled a bit as she noticed his cheeks were pink.
“Ahem,” she said as she approached the buggy slowly. “I’m sorry, Tripp. I got carried away in the moment.”
“Goodness, Sadie, no apology necessary. I just hope I didn’t embarrass you,” he said, not turning away from the horses.
She put her hand on his shoulder, pulling him to turn around and face her. “We’re married, Tripp. I don’t think seeing my ankles should be much of a problem. Even though it is just a business arrangement.”
Her eyes twinkled as he looked at her for a moment and quickly looked to the ground. And with that, his already pink cheeks turned crimson.
“Come over here,” he said as he walked quickly into a glen under the pinyon pines. “I’ve set up lunch for us. Well, a late lunch.”
He led her to a blanket that had been placed on the ground, with plates and silverware laid out. She couldn’t remember ever being on a picnic, and it was hard for her to take her eyes off the trees, the bird calls competing for her attention.
“There is so much wildlife here. I’ve never seen anything like it,” she said, still looking up while she attempted to sit down.
Tripp looked up into the trees surrounding their make-shift dining room. “It is amazing, isn’t it? It feels good to get back out here. Even now, I miss being on the trail with the boys.”
He pulled several dishes out of the basket as she finally sat and turned her attention to him. She watched as he set the serving bowls between them, studiously taking their bowls and serving each of them.
As he set his bowl down on the blanket, he looked up and their eyes held.
“What?” he said, smiling. “You don’t like chili?”
“I like everything you cook, Tripp. So far, anyway,” she said, her eyebrows moving up a notch as she smiled in return. “
She picked up her spoon and chili, bringing it to her nose for a quick sniff before putting it in her mouth.
“Well, you could sure fool me. You have to smell it first before you eat it?”
She let out a short moan as the chili touched her tongue. Opening her eyes, she saw his concerned look.
“I just like to know what I’m eating before I eat it,” she said. “I don’t sniff to offend, but to appreciate.”
He sat back and let out a whistle, picking up his own bowl and beginning to eat. “You’re a tough customer, Sadie Morgan. You like it?”
“Yes, Tripp, it’s delicious. Is it left over from the restaurant?”
Tripp lifted his eyes to her quickly, and said, “Um, no. This is something I made on the side. It doesn’t really fit with the menu.”
“What do you call it?”
He shifted a bit on the tree he was leaning against. “I’m not sure if you know this, but before I went to chef school, I was a cook on the trail when the ranch hands had to move the cattle from one area to another. I was responsible for feeding at least a dozen hungry men, three times a day.”
He took another bite of the chili.
“And this is one of the things you used to make for them? It’s delicious,” she said, savoring another bite. The taste of the beef with the potatoes and onions reminded her a little bit of her meat pies, but she decided not to make the observation out loud. In this, though, she could taste peppers and something a little bit spicy. And beans.
He chuckled as he took his last bite. “Yes, it was one of their favorites. This, with biscuits, but as I told you, I never got the biscuits quite right. Good thing you had some of yours leftover in the kitchen,” he said with a half-smile that warmed her heart as he handed her a biscuit that she’d made for breakfast the day before.
“I only got one baked thing right. Ever. But I guess it was the right thing, because they loved it.”
She smiled as she set her bowl on the blanket and took a bite of her biscuit. “What was that?”
“It was kind of like a donut, and it was called bear paws. A little sugar, cinnamon and butter, but for some reason I got it right every time. At least it made them think I was a good cook.”
She sat back against the tree closest to her and pulled her knees in, straightening her skirts over them. She didn’t want to embarrass him again after the most recent “ankle” incident. Who knew he was so shy?
“Ah, we called those bear claws in the bakery. They were very popular.”
He picked up a stick near him and broke it into smaller pieces. “Yes, they are. But it’s not something I’m particularly interested in. I always wanted to try new things.”
She’d been very interested in how he’d gone from wagon trail cook to culinary school in New York, and she re-arranged the leaves by her side casually as she hoped he’d continue talking.
“So, what happened that you ended up in New York?” she asked softly. She remembered his quick change of subject last time it had come up, the first night she’d met him. She continued her leaf stacking and waited.
When she looked up, his gaze was on the horizon. She crumbled one of the leaves, hoping the noise would bring him back to her and she might find out where this passion for cooking had come from.
She hadn’t mentioned that Suzanne and James had told her that he’d been injured and his boss had sent him. She wanted to let him tell her when he was ready, and they’d been so busy opening the restaurant that it just hadn’t been the right time.
He shook his head quickly, as if to ward off a memory that was unwelcome. He leaned to pick up her bowl and said, “You ready for dessert?”
She sighed, picked up all the leaves and crumpled them at her feet.
“Sure,” she said, as she set to picking up the rest of the dishes, disappointed that she’d been close to learning something about him and the moment had passed.
He handed her a small cup of something that was still cool to the touch. Again, she smelled it and looked up quickly as he laughed. “I’m not trying to poison you. My actual favorite dessert is peach pie, but I can’t make one. This is a simple custard with some burnt sugar on top. I think you’ll like it. It’s from France.”
As she looked at him with a wary glance, he pulled out a few fresh blueberries and sprinkled them on top, handing her a spoon. “Go on, try it.”
She placed a spoonful on her tongue, and her eyebrows shot up, the creamy, cool texture of the custard surprising her, and then smiled with delight as she tasted the blueberry and crunchy topping.
“That is one of the most delicious things I’ve ever tasted,” she said, all the while wondering how she’d get to know anything more about him than his recipes.
“
T
hank
you for the lovely picnic,” she said as he shook the reins and guided the horses back down the hill.
The afternoon had been lovely, the weather perfect, and she once again marveled at how she’d expected the terrain to be much different than it had turned out to be. The cactuses and snakes that Finn had worried about weren’t as abundant as she thought they’d be. And for all the stories, she certainly hadn’t expected a rushing stream.
He glanced at her, a smile crinkling his eyes. As she tore her gaze from the landscape, their eyes met—and she felt an unmistakable flutter overtake her. She remembered the first time she’d seen him—the flutter was there then, too. But this felt a little different.
Although he was far from sharing his innermost feelings with her, something that she realized she wanted, this particular flutter was a little bigger, a little deeper, and she wondered again if there would ever be anything between them but an “arrangement”.
He quickly looked away, and as they rounded a bend, she saw him nod toward the horizon. As she turned to see what he was nodding at, she gasped, the Arizona sunset taking her by surprise. Since she’d been there, she’d been inside the restaurant or Suzanne’s house at sundown, and hadn’t seen a sunset here before. And what she saw took her breath away.
“Nothing quite like an Arizona sunset, is there?” he asked, smiling. He stopped the buggy and tipped his hat up, looking up at the clouds as the sun had just departed. “I really missed this when I was in New York. It was my favorite part of being on the trail.”
She couldn’t think of words to describe the incredible colors…orange, yellow, pink and blue, the clouds streaking across the sky. She watched in amazement as the colors turned even deeper as they sat.
“It really is best about ten minutes after the sun sets,” Tripp said as he flicked the reins to start the horses again. “It’ll be a nice ride home. Not too far from Suzanne’s.”
She continued to watch as the colors changed and the first star dotted the sky. They’d stayed much longer than she’d expected, and she felt relaxed with him at the helm—safe and comfortable. She rested her hand on his arm as they turned away from the sunset and headed into town.
“Thank you, Tripp. It was a lovely afternoon. I appreciate you sharing this with me.”
He took the reins in one hand and patted hers with the other. Again, their eyes met, and he cleared his throat and turned back to the road.
“You’re welcome. I thought you might appreciate it, and it seems I was right.”
“I appreciated lots of things about today,” she said as her heart fluttered at the memory of earlier.
As he pulled the buggy up to Suzanne’s house, she remembered how embarrassed he’d been when he saw her at the creek with her stockings off. As she waited for him to come around to help her down, she smiled and had an idea.
She turned sideways as he stepped around and pulled her skirts up to her knee, extending her hand to him. He smiled as he reached for her hand, and then stopped short when he saw her skirts—or more accurately her exposed ankles resting daintily on the sideboard.
He kept her hand in his, but stared for a moment, shaking his head.
“Is everything all right, Tripp?” she said in the sweetest voice she could muster.
He might think this was a business arrangement, but she intended to do anything she could to get him to see her as his wife. If she was going to be married, it might as well be a real one.
He let go of her hand and gently pulled her skirts down over her ankles, looking from side to side down the empty street. Grabbing her waist and lifting her off the buggy, he set her down in front of him and lifted her chin, his green eyes on hers.
“Yes, definitely. Everything is all right. Better than all right. And I appreciated much about today also,” he said, his cheeks a little flushed.
She closed her eyes, hoping that he might kiss her, but they flew open again as he grabbed her hand and headed toward the house.
“It’s getting dark and we’d better get inside. We have lots to do tomorrow at the restaurant,” he said, and the flutter that she’d been getting accustomed to, and in fact been looking forward to, faded.
T
hey had
coffee at Suzanne’s and discussed the plans for the next day. The twins ran in and out of the dining room, laughing and seeming to answer each other without a question being asked.
Sadie remembered that it had been the same way with her and Suzanne when they were little. It seemed they’d almost been able to read each other’s minds, and they’d been told that it was common with twins. And it seemed that Lily and Lucy had the same close connection.
So it hadn’t surprised her when Suzanne had asked her back into the kitchen to help her put away the dishes after they’d finished their coffee.
“You might as well say it out loud. You’re falling for him, aren’t you?”
Sadie’s eyes jerked up from the coffee cup she’d been drying and she turned to look at her sister. She was surprised that she’d noticed, actually, and she let out a laugh.
“That obvious?” she said, setting the cup on the counter next to the stack of saucers she’d already dried.
With a sigh, she turned around and leaned back against the counter, wringing the towel in her hands. “I think…I don’t know. We haven’t really gotten to spend much time together talking. We’ve been too busy with the restaurant. And he’s…well, he’s…”
Suzanne walked over and took the towel out of her sister’s hands, folded it and set it on the counter. “He’s lots of things. I’ve known him for quite a while, and he’s a little complex.”
Sadie emptied the remainder of the coffee into the sink and paused, looking out the window at the stars.
“Yes, complex is a good word. He’s definitely confident about his cooking skills,” she said as she turned around.
“That’s an understatement,” Suzanne said, putting the rest of the clean plates in the cupboard. “But I think most of it comes from passion rather than arrogance. And he just wants to make people happy with food. That’s what it boils down to.”
A sigh escaped Sadie’s lips as she rubbed her forehead. “I know. And I admire him for it. But he’s so wrapped up in this restaurant that it’s almost impossible to get his attention unless there’s a knife in my hand.”
“Uh-oh,” Suzanne said with a smile. “It’s that serious?”
“What?” Sadie said, looking up. “Oh, no, for chopping, I mean.” She laughed at her sister’s joke. “I’m not that desperate.”
“I know.” Suzanne put the rest of the pie in the icebox and sat down on one of the kitchen stools, placing her hand over Sadie’s. “And I also know that you care for him. I can see it in the way you look at him.”
“Do you think there’s any hope for us, Suzanne? I can’t help the way I feel when he’s around. He’s…”
“Interesting, passionate, kind, gifted and…handsome?”
Sadie’s eyebrows rose as she realized Suzanne had said out loud exactly what she’d been thinking. “How did you know?”
“I know you, that’s how. And I know
him
. He is all that and more, Sadie. Like I said from the very beginning, I have high hopes for this…arrangement. Give it time.”
Suzanne pulled Sadie into a hug, and she reached up to push a stray piece of Sadie’s blonde hair that matched her own behind her sister’s ear.
“You know, it wouldn’t hurt for you to wear your hair down once in a while. I haven’t seen it down since you’ve been here,” she said as she patted her sister’s cheek.
Sadie’s hand flew to her bun and her brows furrowed. “I…I don’t wear it down. Not since I’ve been running the bakery. I can’t risk stray hair in any of the food. One time…”
Sadie stopped mid-sentence as Lily and Lucy tore through the kitchen, in one door and out the other, and laughed.
“Were we like that?” she asked.
“Don’t you remember?” Suzanne said, laughing. “That’s why they took us to the bakery when we were so little. So they could keep us busy and out of trouble.”
Out of trouble
, Sadie thought.
That’s probably what I should do. Leave it alone and stay out of trouble.
“Thanks, Suzanne,” she said, squeezing her hand and wondering if it was even possible for her to…stay out of trouble.