What's Cooking? (12 page)

"Do you think the Kellers would be agreeable to letting me do a photo shoot at their place?" he asked Jeff.

"I can't imagine them turning down a chance to be famous. They love company. I'll give 'em a call and set things up. If they balk for any reason, you can always go to the Westmoreland Berry Farm. They have plenty of apple trees there. It's a little early in the season,

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though. The apples aren't ready for picking yet," Jeff said, echoing Mike's warning.

''Doesn't matter. Maggie's looking for a backdrop, not ripe apples."

'Then let's see what I can set up with the Kellers. I was over there not long ago checking on a blight affecting one of their maple trees. It's a great setting for what you're talking about. When do you want to go?"

"This morning, if it suits them," Rick said eagerly. "I won't be taking pictures today, but I'd like to look things over and make sure it will work."

"I'll call and get right back to you." Jeff promised. "Is Maggie going with you?"

Rick chuckled. "When it comes to her magazine. Maggie's a control freak. What do you think?"

"I'li tell the Kellers to expect both of you. They knew Cornelia Lindsey, so I doubt it will be a problem."

While he wjas waiting for Jeff to get back to him. Rick called Maggie. "Hey, gorgeous."

"Don't call me that," she said testily.

It wasn't the first time she'd reacted irritably to any suggestion that she was beautiful, but each time it threw Rick. Surely she knew how lovely she was. Hadn't he spent half the night proving to her how enchanted he was with her body?

"W7hy not?" he asked, taking a stab at getting to the bottom of it. Knowing Maggie, though, she'd probably stonewall him.

"Because you know what real beauty is," she snapped, surprising him. "Don't insult me by pretending that I'm in the same league."

"Are you crazy?" he asked, unable to keep an incred-

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ulous note out of his voice. "If you're referring to the models I photograph, they can't hold a candle to you. Their figures are perfect for the camera, but yours is perfect for real life."

She sighed heavily at that. "Nice try," she said softly.

"I'm not trying to placate you, Maggie. That's honestly how 1 see you,"

"Why did you call?" she asked, clearly not buying a word he said.

Rick wanted to push harder and get to the bottom of her lousy body image, but tins wasn't the time. Her defenses were already firmly in place. He thought they'd made huge strides in their relationship the night before, but apparently not.

"I've found an-orchard. Jeff's making arrangements for me to take a look around. Want to come'" he asked, managing to keep his tone light] He refused to let a ridiculous argument over whether pr not he really thought she was gorgeous spoil the morning.

"Absolutely," she said, her mood abruptly shifting. She hesitated, then asked, "Is that why you took off so early?"

Ah, so that was what was really bugging her, he deduced. She thought he'd slipped away to avoid some sort of awkward morning-after scenario.

"You gave me an assignment. Of course 1 wanted to get started on it."

"I know I have a reputation ad a slave driver, but you could have waited till daybreak."

He laughed. "Actually the sun was already up when I left. I thought you were awake for that kiss."

?'Then' it wasn't a dream."

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"Oh, no, darlin', it was real. You try remembering that, and I'll be there as soon as I hear back from Jeff." "I'll be ready."

The Kellers looked like a couple of those apple dolls Maggie had seen in a country craft shop years ago. Their wizened, nut-brown faces spoke of years in the summer sun. And like so many people who'd been married for more than fifty years, they'd started to look a bit alike with their wiry bodies and white hair cropped in similar short styles. Hers had a bit more curl than his. Both of them had bright blue eyes that sparkled with interest when they opened the door to Maggie and Rick.

"Come in, come in," Matthew Keller said, his hearty voice a surprise. "Sally's been baking apple pies this morning, if you'd like some before we go down to the orchard."

Maggie glanced at Rick and was surprised that there was no trace of impatience in his eyes.

"I'd love some pie," he said easily. "And we'd both enjoy hearing about the orchard before we take a look around."

The old man's eyes lit up. "Not many young folks want to listen to me go on and on about growing apples. Used to take some school kids down there in the fall, but all they wanted to do was run around and enjoy a day of freedom from classes. I suppose one apple tree looks pretty much like another unless you take the time to study them."

As they sat down in the Kellers' sunny kitchen, Sally put huge servings of pie in front of them. Rick took a bite and sighed with pleasure. He beamed at Sally.

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"No question about it, you are the culinary genius who bakes the pie they serve at the cafe in Callao, aren't you?"

A huge smile spread across the woman's face. "How on earth did you figure that out from just one bite?"

"Pie this good is not something a man forgets." He turned to Maggie. "This pie is the reason the whole apple idea popped into my head last night. Have you ever tasted anything like it?"

Maggie had been so busy taking notes on what Matthew had been telling them that she hadn't tried a bite of the pie. She put a forkful in her mouth and tasted the tart burst of apple, the hint of sugar and cinnamon, but it was the melt-in-the-mouth crust with its own hint of cinnamon that made her sigh as heartfelt as Rick's had been.

"The crust," she murmured around a second mouthful. "How do you get it to turn out like this, Mrs. Keller?"

"Please, call me Sally. As for the crust, I could show you," the elderly woman offered, then waved off the idea. "What am I thinking? You said you write about food. You probably have one of those fancy, state-of-the-art test kitchens. I imagine you bake better than I do."

"I can't make a pie like this," Maggie told her honestly. "I'd be honored if you'd tell me your secret and let me publish the recipe for my readers. Was this recipe handed down to you, or is it something you came up with on your own?"

Sally Keller's expression grew thoughtful. "I don't know if I could give away the recipe. See, folks around here think there's something a little extra in my pie. I'd hate to ruin it for 'em. Besides, how many slices would the restaurant sell if everybody around these parts started baking it at home?"

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Matthew Keller turned to Maggie. "Where'd you say that magazine is published?"

"Boston. Most of the circulation is in Massachusetts."

"See there, Sally, it won't be a bit of a problem. We don't know a soul in Boston."

His wife gave him a chiding look. "Folks around here do travel, Matthew. And isn't that boy of Lila Wilson's somewhere up north?"

"He's in New York," Matthew retorted. "Now stop your fussing, Sally, and give Cornelia's granddaughter the recipe. No sense keeping it to yourself till you go to your grave. Then no one will be able to enjoy it."

"Haven't you passed it along to your children?" Maggie asked her.

"Heavens no," Sally said with a sad shake of her head. "The boys aren't interested in cooking, and their wives are too busy to worry with baking anything from scratch. I tried to teach my daughter, Ellen, when she was growing up, the way my mama taught me, but she didn't have the patience for it. Said there were too many calories anyway."

"I don't care how many calories it has," Rick told her, "it's worth every one of them. Best apple pie I ever had. You ask Willa-Dean?since I've been in town, I've been to the restaurant every day the pies are due in."

Sally beamed at the praise. "Have another piece, why don't you? You'll burn off all those calories once Matthew takes you out for a look around. He'll talk your ear off, too. Don't be afraid to tell him to hush up when you've heard enough."

Rick dived right into the second piece of pie, then sat back with a contented sigh. "Matthew, you have to save me. Let's go see the orchard. Maggie, are you coming?"

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"I think I'll stay and talk to Sally about the reeipe. You can show me around later."

When the men were gone, Sally gave her a knowing look. "Handsome fellow, that one. Your grandmother would approve."

Maggie regarded her with surprise. "You think so?"

"Heavens yes. She had an eye for a good-looking man. Loved your grandfather till the day he died, but that didn't keep her from appreciating a fine specimen when she ran across one. Me, either, if the truth be told. Even at my age, it doesn't hurt to look."

Maggie laughed at the unmistakable sparkle in the woman's eyes. "Something tells me you've given your husband fits, Sally."

The older woman chuckled. "Indeed I did and I'm proud of it, too. Keeping things lively is what keeps a marriage going as long as ours has been."

"And how long is that?" Maggie asked.

"It'll be sixty-two years next month. I was only eighteen when we got married and I'm closing in on eighty now. I'd known Matthew from the time we were toddlers causing havoc during church services." She grinned at Maggie and confided, "To tell you the truth, I never thought much of him till I turned sixteen and spotted the twinkle in his eyes when he saw me coming. There's a lot to be said for a twinkle like that. Your young man gets it when he looks at you."

Maggie was intrigued by the observation. "Really?"

"My goodness, yes. You haven't seen it?"

Maggie thought about the way Rick looked at her and realized that Sally was right. There was a twinkle in his eye. She'd just never realized before that it was impor-

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tant. She'd been too busy worrying that it meant there was nothing more between them, rather than realizing it was the spark that lit everything else.

She reached over and gave Sally's hand a grateful squeeze. "Thank you."

"What on earth for?"

"For making me see something that's been right in front of my eyes all along."

"Honey, if you haven't seen that man's attributes before now, you need more than a wake-up call. You need glasses."

Maggie was still laughing over that one when Rick and Matthew Keller came back. Rick gave her a curious look.

"Did you get what you came for?" he asked.

"And more," Maggie told him. She turned to Sally. "May we come back again? Rick will need to take pictures, and I'd like to watch while you do your baking."

"Baking days are Monday and Thursday, but you're welcome anytime," Sally assured her, then glanced pointedly at Rick before giving Maggie a wink. "We're way past overdue for some excitement around here."

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jo, what did you think?" Rick asked as he and Maggie drove back to her place.

"They're remarkable people," she replied enthusiastically. "Can you imagine being married for over sixty years? I am so impressed."

Rick was startled that Maggie had picked up on the Kellers' personal history, rather than the orchard setting. Usually she was totally focused on work. He had to readjust, then give her question some thought. To be truthful, he had never imagined being married at all. He'd always assumed he'd be lousy at staying put, much less staying committed to one woman. Over the last couple of weeks, he'd begun to wonder about that.

"Honestly, I never gave marriage or its duration much thought," he replied.

"Why?"

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"I never pictured myself married," he admitted.

She regarded him with more curiosity than disappointment. "Really? Too many temptations?"

"Something like that," he said evasively.

Rather than daunting her, his reply apparently sparked even more curiosity. She studied him intently. "What about your own parents? Didn't they set a good example for you?"

Rick didn't talk about his family. In fact, in relationships as fleeting as most of his had been, he'd never talked much about anything important. The shallow women with whom he'd been involved were more than content to discuss the celebrity world in which he traveled.

"Tell me about your parents," he suggested, hoping to buy himself some time.

He glanced over and saw at once that Maggie wasn't fooled a bit by the tactic, but she answered anyway.

"I think my folks will eventually be just like the Kellers, still madly in love when they're eighty," she said. "Back at the beginning, though, I suspect most people thought they'd never last a year. My mom's the epitome of the southern steel magnolia. She has a sweet demeanor and a backbone that doesn't bend. My dad's this boisterous Italian guy from Boston. They're both so strong willed, you'd think they'd clash over everything."

She grinned. "And sometimes they do. My father shouts. My mother replies in icy tones."

"Who usually wins?" Rick asked.

"Eventually they compromise. And when it comes to anythirig that really matters, they may fight about it in private, but publicly they present a united front."

"And they taught you and your sisters to do the same

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thing, didn't they?" Rick asked, trying to imagine what it would have been like to have family that stuck together through thick and thin. His hadn't stuck together at all. He and his mom had occupied the same space, but they'd hardly been united.

"Absolutely," Maggie said. "Melanie, Ashley, Jo and I have very different personalities, but give us a common enemy and we band together." She gave him a sideways glance. "I gather your family wasn't like that."

"What makes you say that?" Rick asked testily, irritated that she'd apparently seen right through him.

"Because you avoided my question so neatly. People who come from happy homes tend to brag about them."

"I suppose."

"Tell me about your dad."

"There's nothing to tell," he said tersely.

Maggie clearly didn't buy it. "There's always something to tell," she chided.

Rick frowned at her. "Okay, fine. He left when I was very young. End of story, at least as I know it. I never saw him again."