The Comfort of Favorite Things (A Hope Springs Novel) (6 page)

The fact that she was also able to keep them safe, to give them a place to sleep and to eat and to shower, or to just sit and watch a movie or read a book without having to look over their shoulder, or wait for another shoe—or belt, or fist—to drop, or a shotgun blast, was more fulfilling than she could put into words.

She didn’t even try.

“Thea?”

“Hmm?” she asked as she set down her iced tea, glancing toward Becca who’d been the one to draw her out of her reverie.

“You had something to bring to the table?”

“Oh, right.” She braced her forearms on either side of her plate, and looked from Becca’s smile to Ellie’s to Frannie who had gone from carefree to worried. Thea reached over to squeeze the other woman’s hand. “It’s a good something. Don’t worry. Becca and Ellie know about it already because they were at the shop today when the subject came up. You’ve met Peggy Butters, right?”

Frannie moved her utensils out of Robert’s reach. “The older woman who owns the bakery on the other side of the chocolate shop?”

Thea nodded. “Peggy and her husband, Pat, have decided to retire, and they have no family to take over the business. Peggy asked Becca if she might be interested in buying the place. She also asked Lena Mining, who works at Bliss. No doubt she’s asked others as well.”

“And you want to buy it,” Frannie said.

“No.” Becca rushed to correct her. “
We
want to buy it. As a group.”

Thea glanced from Frannie to Becca to Ellie then down at the table and her laced hands. “We’ll need a name, you know. For the business. We’ll need to form a partnership. Or incorporate. And that’s only the beginning. Barely the tip of the iceberg. It’ll be huge. And it will not be easy.”

And then she looked up, seeing wide eyes and excitement and the thrill of adventure and possibilities and hope. That was the one thing on every woman’s face. Hope. Peggy Butters had just given them all something to look forward to. Something more than a life spent hiding here in this house, behind bulletproof glass and doors it would take a bulldozer to down.

“So this would be a real business,” Frannie said, gathering her straight black hair from Robert’s hands and tucking it down the back of her blouse. “That we owned. All of us.”

Thea nodded.

And Frannie went back to frowning, her face pale and marred with exhaustion. “But it would be your money.”

“Only to get started. We’d set things up so that a portion of the profits would go to pay back the initial investment. I don’t know how all that works. That’s why we’ll need an accountant and an attorney.”

“Which will cost money.”

“The business’s money, but yeah. Nothing in this world is free,” Thea said, giving Frannie a weak smile.

Frannie offered Robert another bite of fish, then said, “And once you’re repaid—”

“Each of us would be a quarter owner.” Ellie was the one to answer. “Goodness. Just the idea . . .” She reached for her napkin and blotted her eyes as if the freedom, emotional and financial, that came with a new business was overwhelming.

“What about Bread and Bean?” Frannie spooned up more mac and cheese for James, her own food mostly untouched. “How in the world are you going to run two businesses? If Ellie’s baking bread in one place, and Becca’s baking cakes in another, who’s going to wash the dishes and mop the floors? Who’s going to keep track of supplies, or work the front counters? Who’s going to be the barista? The three of you were already stretched thin running the one place. I’ve got my hands full with the boys here and the house, and I’m not going to leave them alone in day care.”

“Frannie. It’s okay,” Thea said. “This is why I brought this to the table. Trust me. I know how exciting it is to think about owning a business. But you’re right. There’s no way Becca and Ellie and I could run two shops without hiring additional help. We’re going to have trouble running the one. I’ve already thought about having a high schooler come in afternoons to clean up.”

“It would have to be someone who could keep things organized,” Becca said, stabbing up a forkful of beans. “And not mix up the rice flour with the tapioca or the almond.”

“Exactly,” Thea said, glancing at Ellie who was smiling guiltily down at her plate. “Plus, they would need to work independently and be able to make simple decisions. Say we do take on the bakery. Peggy and Pat have been in business for decades. I imagine someone would need to apprentice with them—”

“Hold on a second,” Becca said, leaning forward, her head cocked to one side. “Are you saying if we buy Butters Bakery it will have to stay Butters Bakery?”

“Yes and no,” Thea said, hating to burst Becca’s bubble. “Part of buying a business is taking on the customer base and keeping them happy. So there’s that to consider. Bread and Bean is different. We’re starting from nothing. We can do things however we want to.”

“Peggy doesn’t do all the baking herself, does she?” Ellie asked, reaching for her napkin and blotting her mouth. “I know her husband bakes, too, but don’t they have help?”

“We’d need to talk to Peggy and Pat and find out more. For all I know, she bakes using old family recipes she’ll be taking with her. In that case, we’d have to come up with a whole new menu. Or maybe the recipes would be considered assets the same as the equipment. Buying an established business is way beyond my experience.

“Could be it’s more than we want to take on,” she continued, feeling as if she were treading some very deep water. “I don’t know. Maybe instead we expand Bread and Bean to include some of Becca’s desserts. Things Butters doesn’t sell. That said, I do think Peggy’s offer is worth looking into further. So that’s my vote. We get more details from the Butterses and go from there.”

She glanced around the table. “Sound good?”

“Sounds good to me,” Ellie said.

“Me, too,” Becca added.

Frannie gave a nod, then cupped the back of Robert’s head and pulled the sleepy boy close for a kiss. “Okay. As long as my boys are safe with me.”

“Always,” Thea said, her voice, choked in her throat dropping to a whisper. “Always.”

CHAPTER SIX

E
llie had been completely unable to sleep and was up and dressed before dawn. All night long her mind had been caught in a whirlwind of thoughts that would not stop, well, whirling.

First had been the memory of yesterday’s encounter with Lena Mining, and the romantic possibilities she did not need to be imagining. But how could she help herself? Lena was adorable, and so incredibly sweet, and chemistry was chemistry, though if it was only one-sided.

Then had come last night’s group discussion about buying Butters Bakery. Ellie was probably the least affected by the decision to go forward with the purchase. She had plenty to keep her busy in the kitchen at Bread and Bean, as well as at the house on Dragon Fire Hill.

Still, she mused, pedaling her way into town, an additional business would mean more work for everyone. There would be schedules to adjust, chores to reassign . . . Good thing they were all used to having their status quo fly out the window, and knew not to get too comfortable.

The early summer morning was cool enough that the bike trip left her clammy rather than sweat-drenched. It also had her tightening her shoulders and cringing any time a car approached from behind. She wondered if she’d ever stop being scared, though dealing with the fright was worth it. She enjoyed being the first to arrive and having the place to herself.

The kitchen had been fully functional when Thea had leased the space. Oh, it had needed a few additions to make it workable for Bread and Bean’s needs. But for the most part, the appliances had been perfectly acceptable, the wiring to code and stable, the flooring in good shape.

After locking her bike behind the shop, Ellie let herself in. Once the door closed behind her, she stood in the dark and listened to the space around her wake up—the steel of the appliances ringing hello, the baking pans lining up on the work table like soldiers, the yeast blooming, the flour sifting, the butter and milk knocking on the door of the fridge. The sourdough starter yawning awake. The herbs stretching and shedding their scents like confetti.

All of that was in her mind, of course, but she loved the idea of the kitchen coming to life, the dishes all dancing like those in the Disney movie
Beauty and the Beast
. Not that she would ever tell anyone. She’d had enough people thinking her a flighty dingbat. A ninny. An airhead.

She knew how she came across. She also knew who she was. A survivor with advanced degrees in art and art history. And she knew who she wanted to be. For now that was a baker of the most amazing artisan bread to be had anywhere near Hope Springs.

That was one good thing to come of her old existence: After losing her teaching job to budget cuts, she’d found work in a specialty bakery and learned a new trade, which she loved as much as she had her career in art. The only downside at the bakery had been meeting the woman she’d thought was her one true love but who had very nearly killed her.

Now Thea had given her this amazing chance, this amazing new life, on top of the place to live that was more than a house, and roommates who were more than a family.

It was a haven, and Ellie was safe.

Today, as she flipped on the lights, as she turned on the music she liked playing before everyone else arrived, as the kitchen came to life around her, ringing and blooming and knocking on the door of the fridge, she knew she would never be more so.

“I felt so bad about yesterday.” Ellie reached across Bliss’s front counter and handed Lena the bag with the still-warm sourdough round loaf. She knew she was overreacting. Lena had dropped her books. Ellie had dropped her spools and had to chase them down the sidewalk. No one had been hurt. Nothing had been damaged. Except Ellie’s pride. “A peace offering, I guess.”

“There aren’t any hard feelings, so no peace to be made, but thanks.” Lena brought the small brown sack wrapped around the fresh crusty loaf to her nose and breathed in, but her gaze held fast to Ellie’s. “This smells good. Really good.”

“I’m surprised you can smell it above all the chocolate,” Ellie said, looking around. This was the first time she’d been inside Bliss, and wow. These weren’t the chocolates she’d expected. They were jewels. Tiny pieces in amazing angles and curves that shimmered and popped with color. “I’d never be able to work in here. I think I’ve put on five pounds since walking in.”

“You get used to it,” Lena said with a shrug, peering into the bag. “You made this?”

Ellie nodded, inordinately pleased. As if she had anything to do with the way the butter and flour and yeast and milk and starter came together. As if women hadn’t been baking bread since the dawn of time or, well, whenever. She knew better than to take credit where she shouldn’t. To take pride at all.

“It’s great toasted,” she said. “Or broiled with garlic and butter. Or used for grilled cheese.”

“I’m a fan of grilled cheese for sure,” Lena said, looking up.

“Are you?” she asked, drying her palms on her hips, her heart thumping wildly. “Me, too. Especially with a bowl of tomato soup. I like provolone and Gouda and Havarti and sharp cheddar.”

Smiling, Lena sniffed at the loaf again. “All on the same sandwich?”

“Of course! It’s so good. And goat cheese works better than cheddar, but that’s usually all we have at the house. Cheddar, I mean,” she said, rambling. “But at least we have that. Thea says we might not have the most extensive pantry in Hope Springs, but we will always have real cheese.”

“Thea.”

“Thea Clark.” Ellie gestured over her shoulder. “She owns Bread and Bean. The coffee shop next door.”

“And you live with her?” Lena asked as she set the bag behind her on the counter.

Ellie nodded. “With her and with Becca. She’s our barista, or she will be once we’re opened. And with Frannie and her two boys. Frannie hasn’t been there long, and I’m not sure when she’ll be able to work again . . .” Ellie left the thought alone to trail, realizing she was a little too close to revealing things it wasn’t her place to share. “Anyway, it’s the house up on Dragon Fire Hill. The big white one that looks like it belongs in
Gone with the Wind
.”

“Yeah. I know it.”

“Thea likes old movies,” Ellie said, reaching up with one hand to twist back her hair. Goodness, she must look a mess, all sweaty from the kneading and the ovens, flour dusting her sleeves and no doubt her nose. “And old TV. I’d never even heard of Scarlett O’Hara before Thea. Rhett Butler was an ass, but Scarlett. That girl was strong. She knew what she wanted.”

“Like Katniss Everdeen,” Lena said, her smile indulgent as she picked up one of Bliss’s candy boxes.

“I don’t know who that is,” Ellie said, hating that the admission made her feel dumb when she knew she wasn’t. Sheltered. Uninformed. Out of the loop. Yeah. All of those. Though not for long.

“From
The Hunger Games
.”

“Is that a movie?”

“It was a book,” Lena said with complete patience and without condescension. “A series of books. Now it’s a big movie franchise.”

“Like Harry Potter?”

“Not quite that big, but yeah. Same book-to-movie concept.” She reached into the display case for a chocolate and put it into the box. “I’m going to guess you don’t get out much.”

Ellie did her best to smile. It wasn’t Lena’s fault she didn’t know the things Ellie had been through. “I’m getting better about it. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

“I can help. I mean, if you’re ever looking for something to read. Or to watch.” Lena stopped then, and shrugged, as if she weren’t sure why she was making the offer.

It didn’t matter. Ellie liked that she had. “That would be great.”

“Cool. Here.” Lena passed her the box with the chocolate. “This is my favorite of Callum’s flavors.”

“For me?” Ellie asked, hesitant.

“Unless you’re allergic to chocolate. Or don’t like it or something. It’s all good if you don’t.”

“I love chocolate.” Ellie took the tiny brown box, thinking it the most gorgeous thing she’d ever seen, all iridescent and so perfectly shaped. “What flavor is it? Besides the chocolate?”

“Burnt orange and Irish whiskey. Callum calls it Irish Creamsicle. It sounds weird, I know, but when Callum cooks it all up and does his thing, it’s truly amazing.” Lena stopped, then gestured toward Ellie with one hand. “The filling’s almost the same color as your hair.”

“Goodness,” she said, reaching to toy with a strand, her heart beating with tiny, delicate, tickling wings, fluttering, and she only just stopped herself from asking if that was why Lena had chosen it. “Thank you. I’ll save it for dessert after lunch.”

“Or you could be a rebel and eat it now,” Lena said with a shrug.

Ellie looked from the other woman to the box and frowned. “Is that what rebels do?”

Lena laughed. “I have no idea. I just like the idea.”

“Of eating dessert first?”

“Sure. Life’s too short not to,” Lena said, and Ellie could’ve sworn the words flipped a switch and changed everything. And so with Lena looking on, Ellie opened the box.

She brought it to her nose and breathed in, much as Lena had done with the sourdough round. She smelled the chocolate and the bite of the orange and a soft hint of vanilla and the barest edge of the whiskey. She wondered if Callum used Jameson, if the oranges were organic, the chocolate fair trade, the vanilla scraped fresh from a bean.

Then she stopped thinking of anything but the expectant way Lena was looking at her and what it did to the big hole in her chest, and bit the candy in half. The chocolate sat on her tongue for several seconds and then began to soften, releasing the rest of the flavors as if in a tide. She closed her eyes and savored the combination that was sweet and bitter and tangy and oh-so-perfect as it swelled.

Tears threatened and she forced them away. She could not appear weak. Not here. Not now. Not with this woman whom she already thought of as a friend, but who she could so easily imagine becoming more.

Tucking the other half of the candy into the box to enjoy later, she looked up at Lena and said, “I can see why this is your favorite. It’s exquisite. Thank you.”

Lena’s expression softened, as if she’d been worried about Ellie’s reaction, and then she said, “And thank you for the bread. I think I’ll have grilled cheese for supper.”

“Good. Let me know if you enjoy it,” Ellie said, turning for the door, hoping that hadn’t been too forward but just enough of an opening for Lena to step through.

“Sure thing,” Lena said, and Ellie smiled.

Lost in thought, a mug of coffee held between his hands, Dakota didn’t look up at his sister’s approach until Indiana’s boot hit the bottom step of the three leading up to the cottage.

His boots were on the second. His butt was on the edge of the porch. It was as far as he’d made it after forcing himself out of bed, into the shower, then to the kitchen and the coffeemaker. He should’ve been at work already, but he was beginning to wonder if he’d even make it today.

He was on his second mug and still only half-awake. The hour had been close to five when he’d finally dozed off, and he was getting too old to survive on three of them a night. Not that the blue jay who claimed the branch closest to his window every morning at six gave a crap.

At this rate, he wasn’t going to make it to forty. Neither would the bird.

He lifted his drink. “There’s half a pot left in the kitchen. Still fresh.”

“Tennessee called me last night,” was Indiana’s answer.

Dakota wasn’t surprised. “Yeah? What did he call you?”

She kicked the toe of his boot with the toe of hers. “He didn’t call me anything but he had a few choice names for you. And he told me some bullshit story about you leaving Hope Springs. Let me grab a cup and then you can tell me why Tennessee doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Can’t wait,” he said, leaning to the side to give her room to pass. She took it, but shoved against him anyway. That had him grinning. He was really sorry he’d missed so many years of his sister’s life. His brother’s, too, but he’d known his brother better. His sister, fourteen when he’d gone to prison, had been a teen girl enigma.

For the first five months after returning to Texas, Dakota had stayed in the three-story Victorian on the corner of Second and Chances with Tennessee’s family. He’d hated imposing, because no matter both his brother and Kaylie telling him he wasn’t, he knew better.