Bachelor Protector
Bachelor Protector
Julianna Morris
Driven to defend a woman who won't let him!Poppy Gold Inns should be the perfect place to relax, except architect Tyler Prentiss doesn’t do slow. He’s juggling his work long distance while looking after his brother, a wounded soldier battling PTSD. And figuring out how to make nice with Sarah Fullerton, his mother’s new boss. Helping the stubborn, sexy baker remodel her kitchens is a step in the right direction, he figures. And when someone begins harassing Sarah, he wants to do more, but the independent woman won't let him. Tyler knows all about needing space. She’s in danger, and so is he… of finally opening his heart.
Driven to defend a woman who won’t let him!
Poppy Gold Inns should be the perfect place to relax, except architect Tyler Prentiss doesn’t do slow. He’s juggling his work long-distance while looking after his brother, a wounded soldier battling PTSD. And he’s figuring out how to make nice with Sarah Fullerton, his mother’s new boss. Helping the stubborn, sexy baker remodel her kitchens is a step in the right direction, he figures. And when someone begins harassing Sarah, he wants to do more, but the independent woman won’t let him. Tyler knows all about needing space. She’s in danger, and so is he...of finally opening his heart.
“Do you still want to go for a drive?” Tyler asked.
“Not tonight.”
“Then how about me coming over tomorrow or the next day and looking at those blueprints?”
“Sure.” Sarah walked him to the door and was almost afraid to look out in case another gift bag had been left, which was absurd because the police had only departed a few minutes earlier. “Good night, Tyler.”
He hesitated, staring at her mouth.
Sarah gave it a brief moment of thought before rising on her toes and planting a thorough kiss on his lips. After all, there was no point in being coy, and it would be a much better ending to the evening than a creepy gift.
His arms went around her and he deepened the kiss. Every inch of her skin burned and the response from his body was unmistakable.
Dear Reader (#u347fd3cf-8318-5e2e-85e4-6fa10251c84c),
It probably isn’t a surprise that I enjoy writing about large families. (Was that a big “duh” I just heard?) Sarah Fullerton enjoys her many relatives in my third Poppy Gold story. She is open and loving, despite a bad marriage, and very busy running her dream business. I’ve paired Sarah with Tyler Prentiss, a man who struggles to be close to anyone, much less his own small family. Tyler has several concerns, including a grieving mother and a brother recovering from serious military-related injuries, but he can’t restrain his protective instincts when Sarah is threatened.
I hope to write more Poppy Gold stories in the future, as well as revisit the Hollister family from my series Those Hollister Boys. Lots of stories, just never enough time to tell them all!
Classic Movie Alert: share a smile with me by watching Bringing Up Baby, starring Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant. Cary is a paleontologist whose life is turned upside down by a madcap heiress and a leopard.
Please check out my Facebook page at Facebook.com/julianna.morris.author (https://Facebook.com/julianna.morris.author). Readers can also contact me at c/o Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, ON M3B 3K9, Canada.
Julianna Morris
Bachelor Protector
Julianna Morris
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
JULIANNA MORRIS isn’t crazy about housework, but she enjoys home canning because it connects her to the farming and pioneering roots of her ancestors. Of course, this conflicts with everything else she enjoys, including hiking, traveling, reading, painting and photography. But the way Julianna sees it, she’d rather have too much to do than too little. One thing is sure—she’ll never be bored!
In loving memory of Burt and Emily
Contents
Cover (#uea87da2e-2f15-5949-9917-d29b5dbc35b0)
Back Cover Text (#uce8038fc-4cab-5268-b56c-f7d071c74be2)
Introduction (#u5f129b29-c86a-5d25-83d9-c24a06f6acc4)
Dear Reader (#uab753c9e-cdbf-521a-be7b-c3b00efb9763)
Title Page (#u939e095d-be18-50e8-8f0d-014f2ce80bcb)
About the Author (#ube37016c-e0ce-5d7c-84d5-7265d251fc6f)
Dedication (#u6b4beddf-ef5c-5b5b-adcb-d9ac07405976)
PROLOGUE (#ue8b46b0d-10e8-59aa-9938-44d41d45b7d7)
CHAPTER ONE (#u43bca0e7-7b79-5dcb-967d-eb3499ac336c)
CHAPTER TWO (#ue34de6bc-7642-5e87-b82e-953b37335491)
CHAPTER THREE (#u92e2b5be-fbd6-52bc-bf84-d906b7f9249b)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u3374d2d6-1106-539b-8c5b-6432ad3e6f28)
CHAPTER FIVE (#u11352f9a-beda-5fe1-9366-c790125a9fcb)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
PROLOGUE (#u347fd3cf-8318-5e2e-85e4-6fa10251c84c)
SARAH FULLERTON PRESSED a finger to her forehead, trying to concentrate.
In the past four years, she’d gone from running a small sweet shop with two employees to overseeing a bakery and catering business with more than twenty employees. The front of the shop looked the same as before, but the operation behind it had become a monster.
A loud clatter out in the main kitchen made her jump.
“Sorry about that,” called Gabby Michaelson, one of the shift supervisors. “Just dropped some pans. No harm done.”
Except to my nerves, Sarah thought, pushing the order forms away. She’d hoped to finish her office work during regular hours, but it would have to wait.
Lately she’d begun to daydream about getting a full night’s sleep. While the business was booming, it was partly due to nepotism. The nearby Poppy Gold Bed and Breakfast Inns was owned by relatives, and they’d contracted with her to provide all the food needed at the facility. Now their kitchens were quiet most of the time and hers were insane.
Granted, things were crazier than normal right now because her aunt, who’d been helping to manage the shop, had recently broken her leg. It would get better when Aunt Babs came back. If she came back. She’d asked Sarah to look for a permanent replacement for her, but it wasn’t easy finding an experienced office manager in Glimmer Creek.
“Sarah, can you help Aurelia?” Gabby called. “With David out, she’s swamped. A bunch of customers just came in, and we’re filling éclairs for that special order.”
With a tired sigh, Sarah got up and went out front, a babble of voices greeting her from the waiting area.
Sarah’s Sweet Treats was on the edge of the Glimmer Creek historic district and the tour buses parked nearby, so they got groups coming and going. She usually had two employees at the counter, but David had called in sick and Aurelia was trying to handle everything herself.
“I’m sure you’ll love the fudge,” said a familiar voice. Sarah’s eyes widened—it was Rosemary Prentiss, a Poppy Gold Inns guest she’d talked with several times. “The cappuccino flavor is my favorite,” Rosemary continued. “I also love the banana muffins. They’re wonderfully moist and have chunks of dried apricot.”
“Those sound delicious, too. I’ll take four.”
Rosemary had been visiting the sweet shop for the past several days, sitting and drinking tea for extended periods. Now she was behind the display counters, boxing a selection of fudge and muffins. She handed the containers to Aurelia to ring up at the cash register and cheerfully greeted the next customers in line.
Once again she efficiently filled the order, her enticing descriptions of the baked goods convincing the older couple to order a dozen peanut butter cookies, a caramel apple pie and a pan of bread pudding.
Sarah shook off her surprise and stepped forward. “I can take over, Rosemary, but thanks for helping,” she said. “It’s awfully nice of you.”
Rosemary smiled. “I don’t mind staying. We’re doing fine. Aurelia is handling the cash register, and I can manage the rest. I’m sure you have other work to do.”
Aurelia Fullerton, one of Sarah’s many cousins, nodded fervently. “She’s a whiz, Sarah. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Uh, okay.”
Nonplussed, Sarah watched for another minute. Rosemary had explained she was staying at Poppy Gold with her youngest son, an Army captain who was recovering from a bomb blast in the Middle East. To give him time alone, she’d been exploring Glimmer Creek.
“Shoo, we’ve got everything under control,” Rosemary ordered, looking happier than Sarah had yet seen her. She’d seemed sad and lonely sitting at a corner table for hours, reading and drinking tea. When Sarah had said hello the first time, Rosemary had even anxiously asked if she was in the way.
Sarah gratefully retreated, thinking she would give Rosemary a gift certificate or selection of baked goods as a thank-you.
Sarah’s Sweet Treats had been a lot more fun before it expanded; Sarah wanted to be a baker, not a businesswoman, but she couldn’t let her cousin down—Tessa was the owner-manager of Poppy Gold Inns and had wanted to outsource their food needs. And the contract had helped pay off the debts from opening the shop.
Sarah was even starting to save for a rainy day. Sooner or later her frantic schedule would sort itself out, and she’d have more time for the things she loved.
In the smaller secondary kitchen, she began a batch of fudge. She had a swing-shift employee who made candy, but the fudge was a huge seller and they could always use more. Once she got a few of the standard batches made, she might experiment with a new flavor—chocolate, cinnamon and cayenne. Unique recipes were her specialty.
The familiar task was more soothing than office work, and soon she had several pans cooling on the candy rack, including her latest experiment. The challenge was making it zippy enough to wake up the taste buds but not too spicy.
Periodically she went out to check on Rosemary and Aurelia. Sales had remained brisk and she expected to find empty spaces in the display cases, but Rosemary had found time to restock them from the supplies in the back.
“Maybe I should put you on the payroll,” Sarah joked in a rare lull between customers.
“I’ve noticed your Help Wanted sign in the window. How about hiring me?” Rosemary asked, surprising Sarah. Rosemary dressed chicly and wore expensive jewelry. On top of that, Poppy Gold wasn’t cheap; this couldn’t be a woman who needed a job.
“What about your son?”
“He says he mostly needs peace and quiet and that I drive him crazy when I hover. So I could work afternoons to start and add mornings when he’s better.”
“I...sure,” Sarah said. “If you’re serious, I’ll get an application.”
Rosemary suddenly looked uneasy. “I’m quite serious. But I’ve never had a job, so I don’t have any references. I’ve managed numerous fund-raisers though, and I can give you names of people involved with them. I’m sure they’d vouch for me.”
“That’s fine. I mostly need to do a standard background check.”
Sarah went to get the application, unsure if she was batty or desperate. But Rosemary had already shown she was capable, and Sarah believed in listening to her instincts. The one time she hadn’t, she’d ended up married to a guy with the conscience of a snake.
As a matter of fact, her ex made snakes look good.
CHAPTER ONE (#u347fd3cf-8318-5e2e-85e4-6fa10251c84c)
TYLER PRENTISS WAS frustrated and worried.
His red-eye flight had been delayed coming into the Sacramento International Airport, and then the car rental company had lost his reservation. It took an hour before he was finally able to get a vehicle and head for the small town of Glimmer Creek.
He’d never visited California’s Gold Country and wouldn’t be going now if his mom and brother hadn’t lost their minds. The thought made Tyler wince. It was closer to the truth than he liked.
Rosemary Prentiss had almost suffered a breakdown after his father’s death a few months earlier, and now Tyler’s younger brother, Nathan, was struggling to recover from post-traumatic stress and injuries received while serving overseas.
The employee at the Poppy Gold Inns reservation desk directed him to the John Muir Cottage where his family was staying in the Yosemite suite. Nathan was sitting in a comfortable chair in the back garden, and Tyler’s gut tightened. It had been a month since they’d seen each other, but his brother’s face seemed as gaunt as before.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Nathan returned tonelessly.
“I was able to come home a few days early and went to the rehab center for a visit, only to learn you’d checked out. You didn’t mention it when I called.”
“I knew you’d do the big brother thing and try to stop me.”
“Yes, if you weren’t ready,” Tyler couldn’t keep from retorting. “I happen to know your doctor didn’t want you to leave. One of the patients at the center told me.”
Nathan made a rude gesture, which was completely out of character for him. “Screw doctors, I’m sick of ’em. When I said I was checking out of rehab no matter what, Mom got a referral or something to come here.”
Tyler looked around. “Where is Mom?”
“At a shop called Sarah’s Sweet Treats. I didn’t like her hanging over me, so she got a job there. Now she’s gone most of the day, except when she brings something for lunch and checks in on her breaks. It’s much calmer this way.”
A job?
Tyler stared. His mother had never worked in her life, and it seemed unlikely she was in any condition to start now considering how shaky she’d been when he’d left for Italy just a few weeks earlier. Lately she’d seemed a little better when he’d phoned, but still anxious and uncertain.
The guilt he felt for even going on the business trip returned full force, but what else could he have done after postponing it twice? He’d designed a private museum in Rome, and his contract required him to spend a certain amount of time on-site. While the clients were sympathetic and had agreed to a shorter period, they’d run out of patience when he’d tried to delay his visit another time. Then he’d needed to leave for a few days in the middle to fly to Illinois for an emergency.
“All day?” Tyler repeated. “As in full time?”
“I guess. The first day she was just gone in the afternoon, and then she asked if I minded her staying away longer. I was all for it. I’m sick of people fussing at me.”
It was hard for Tyler to picture their mother being able to focus on anything, much less stick to an eight-hour workday. Rosemary Prentiss was a Washington, DC, socialite—a sweet woman with a short attention span, flitting from one cause to the next. She’d never even balanced her own checkbook or paid a bill, leaving everything to her husband.
When Tyler’s father had died, Rosemary had fallen apart. She’d been so unstable, her doctor had considered hospitalization. Then Nathan had gotten injured in Iraq. Needing to concentrate on her son’s recuperation had forced her to set aside her grief for a while, but it didn’t mean she’d fully recovered, any more than Nathan had.
“I’ll go check on her,” Tyler said.
Nathan shrugged. “Are you staying?”
“If I can get a room.”
“No problem. There are two extra bedrooms in the suite. Mom asked for the largest space available, thinking it would be quieter. That’s one of the problems with the hospital and rehab center—it’s never really quiet.” Nathan put his head back and closed his eyes.
More concerned and frustrated than ever, Tyler looked up Sarah’s Sweet Treats on his phone and followed the directions. It occurred to him that he ought to think it through first, but instead he marched inside.
“I need to speak with Rosemary Prentiss,” he told the woman at the counter.
“Rosemary isn’t available right now.”
“She works here, doesn’t she?” The question came out harsher than he’d intended.
“Uh, yeah. Let me get the owner.”
She hurried into the back, and a minute later another woman appeared. There was a smudge of white on her right temple, and she was wiping her hands on a towel.
Tyler assessed her quickly. Young, probably no more than thirty. Beautiful. Pale blond hair in a French braid. Striking green eyes. She also had an enticing figure, discernible despite the spotless chef’s apron wrapped around her.
“Hello, I’m Sarah Fullerton. I own Sarah’s Sweet Treats. Can I help you?”
Tyler pushed his physical response to her aside.
“My name is Tyler Prentiss. I want to know what you were thinking, hiring a woman as fragile as my mother to work for you?”
* * *
SARAH BLINKED.
Rosemary...fragile?
Were they talking about the same person?
Over the past two weeks, Rosemary had saved her sanity. The woman was an organizational marvel, with a quiet way of stepping in wherever needed. While she hadn’t been paid to work before, she’d spent most of her adult life running massive charity events, blood donor drives and church bazaars. Apparently marshaling volunteers into line was excellent training for managing the chaos of a bakery-restaurant and catering business.
“I’m sorry, but my employees aren’t your concern,” Sarah replied carefully.
“They are if my mother is one of them. There are safety issues to consider, along with everything else. I don’t want her exhausting herself in a hot, crowded kitchen.”
Sarah glanced at Aurelia who was watching wide-eyed. Other customers also appeared to be watching with varying levels of interest.
“Let’s step outside,” Sarah said in a tight tone. She didn’t appreciate scenes, particularly in front of her patrons.
“Just tell me where my mother is and we’ll both get out of here.”
His arrogance took Sara’s breath away. “What are you going to do, issue an order and expect Rosemary to follow it?”
“I’m going to reason with her. You can’t possibly understand the situation.”
“I understand you’re a chauvinistic jackass—how’s that for a start?” she shot back, quickly losing the battle to control her temper. Rosemary had talked often about her son the architect, but she hadn’t mentioned he was utterly impossible.
“Sarah certainly has figured you out, my darling,” said Rosemary. She’d returned from a visit to the office supply store and was glaring at her son. Sarah was reminded of her iron-willed grandmother who’d helped raise her. Yet Rosemary’s expression softened when she gestured to the red scar at her son’s hairline.
“What happened? You didn’t tell me you’d had an accident.”
He snorted. “You didn’t say anything about coming to California, either. We’ve talked every day since I left, and the subject never came up?”
Rosemary turned pink. “I knew you were busy and didn’t want to distract you. How did you get hurt?”
“It isn’t important. I’m fine.” He lowered his voice. “Look, you have to realize your doctor wouldn’t approve of you working. And I know that Nathan checked out of rehab against medical advice. So let’s go back to the suite and pack your things. We can leave in the morning.”
Rosemary shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere, and I’m sure Nathan wants to stay, too. Besides, I have a job now. Responsibilities.”
“You aren’t strong enough to hold any sort of job, much less do the kind of labor this place must require.”
“What do you think I’m doing here, scrubbing floors with a rag and toting hundred-pound sacks of flour?”
“It doesn’t matter. Nathan needs to go back in rehab. That’s where he belongs, and I’m sure you want to be near him.”
“He wasn’t getting better in that place and wanted to leave.”
Sarah bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. The men in her family could be opinionated and old-fashioned, but Rosemary’s son made them look like models of modern thinking by comparison. Of course...Tyler Prentiss might have a point if his brother wasn’t following medical orders, but he wasn’t going to fix the situation by acting this way.
“Nathan needs professional care,” Tyler said. “I’ve got plane tickets for tomorrow. We’re going back to DC.”
Rosemary crossed her arms over her stomach. “Enjoy your flight.”
“I have tickets for all of us.”
Whoa.
Sarah had never seen someone actually talk between clenched teeth before, but Tyler Prentiss was doing a credible job of being rock-jawed and speaking at the same time. It was too bad to see so much striking masculine appeal wasted on a guy like him.
When she’d first seen him—before he’d opened his big mouth—she’d actually felt a flash of awareness. Tyler was tall and classically handsome, with a strong bone structure. Paired with his dark hair and cool brown eyes, she’d found him quite compelling...until he’d started talking.
Tyler turned and focused on her again. “Please understand, Ms. Fullerton, my mother’s doctor told her to avoid stress. She’s had a difficult time since my fath—”
“Richard Tyler Prentiss,” Rosemary interrupted. “This is my place of employment, so unless you’re going to buy some of the delicious goods we sell here, please leave.”
“Fine. We’ll talk later.” He stomped out the door with a grim expression.
As soon as he was gone, Rosemary began to deflate. “I’m sorry my son made a scene, Sarah. Tyler means well, and I’m sure he’ll regret this when he calms down. Please don’t fire me.”
“I don’t fire employees because their sons behave badly,” Sarah assured. “In fact, I’m promoting you to assistant manager. My aunt won’t mind. She’s been hoping I’d hire someone in her place. You can focus on the office, supplies and coordination the way you’ve been doing, and I’ll manage the kitchen.”
Rosemary beamed. “In that case, I’d better get busy.”
She hurried away and Sarah rolled her shoulders to relax them, but before she could return to her baking, Great-Uncle Milt arrived.
“I heard you had a disruptive customer and came to help,” he announced.
“Thanks, but everything has been resolved.” Sarah had to rise on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. He was extremely tall, with a shock of thick white hair and a pair of youthful blue eyes. Folks in Glimmer Creek referred to him as the Big Kid, though as Glimmer Creek’s recently retired police chief, he could be stern about the law. Not that he was completely retired. The town had given Great-Uncle Milt the title of Police Chief Emeritus at his retirement ceremony.
“What happened?”
She tugged him out to the front sidewalk and explained, not wanting Rosemary to hear the comments being made about her eldest son.
“I’ll check into this fellow,” Great-Uncle Milt declared when she finished, his eyebrows drawn together.
“It’s fine. I’m sure he won’t be a problem,” Sarah said, though she was still annoyed that Tyler Prentiss had tried to interfere. She’d like to give him a sharp kick in the rear.
“Nevertheless, I’ll talk to the new police chief about it,” Great-Uncle Milt insisted. “I won’t have some stranger upsetting things around here.”
“If it makes you feel better,” Sarah said, yet the corners of her mouth twitched. The “new” police chief was Zach Williams...Great-Uncle Milt’s grandson. Zach was her second cousin, though in Glimmer Creek family was family. Period. And in-laws were relatives the same as anybody else. Great-Uncle Milt just didn’t like emphasizing the connection in case folks thought his grandson had gotten the job because of the relationship.
Yet Sarah’s humor faded as she thought about her cousin’s wife. Gina had died from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy. Zach had never been the same.
It was worse to bury a spouse than get divorced, but at least he remembered his wife with love, instead of the loathing Sarah felt for Douglas.
* * *
TYLER PACED THE GARDEN around the John Muir Cottage until his brother barked at him to go away. Inside the large Victorian farmhouse, he couldn’t find an informational booklet, so he called the Poppy Gold registration desk to get the Wi-Fi password. He had to do something while waiting for his mother to return.
Did she really think sunshine and fresh air would be enough to help Nathan?
Tyler frowned as he worked at the table in the suite’s kitchen. When Nathan had been in the military hospital, he and his mother had taken shifts so someone would be with him around the clock. She stayed days, while Tyler had stayed nights.
He’d never forget the first time he’d seen Nathan in the throes of a violent nightmare...groaning, thrashing, striking out violently. Sometimes yelling, revealing hints of the horrors he’d lived through. Even his less-intense nightmares had been disturbing to witness.
After that, Tyler had done research on PTSD. Nightmares occurred in a fairly large percentage of cases, and since Nathan was an expert in hand-to-hand combat, it wasn’t safe to get near him while he was experiencing one.
The minutes passed slowly, and finally the side door off the utility room opened. His mother walked in, bright and chipper, though her cheery expression faltered when she looked at him.
“You owe Sarah an apology,” she said flatly. “And you owe me one, too. I can’t believe you’d embarrass me like that.”
“I can’t believe you and Nathan would fly to California without a word,” Tyler retorted. “Three months ago you were still so distraught about Dad that you asked me to postpone going to Rome a second time. You didn’t want me out of the area for even a few weeks.”
Rosemary raised her chin. “I just felt it was too soon after Nathan had gone into rehab and that you should be there. But yes, I was also still upset about your father. I’d lost my best friend and the love of my life. Can you blame me for not being able to handle it right away?”
Tyler frowned.
While he’d respected his father, the idea of his parents enjoying such a close relationship was a challenge. When would they have found time? Richard Prentiss had often worked ninety hours a week, though admittedly, some of his work had included schmoozing with clients, his wife at his side. He’d been a lawyer, greatly in demand. More than anything he’d wanted his sons to go into practice with him, but Tyler had wanted to be an architect and Nathan a soldier.
Still, Tyler was willing to believe his parents had been closer than he’d realized. It would certainly explain why his mom had fallen apart so badly.
“I’m not blaming you,” Tyler said carefully. “On the other hand, I don’t think getting a job on a whim is the answer. What are you planning to do, move here?”
“Perhaps. Glimmer Creek is a nice town.”
“I don’t think you’d like it for long. The nearest place to buy designer accessories has to be fifty miles away.”
“Is that what you really think of me?” Rosemary asked sadly. “I needed to dress a certain way because it was important to your father that I looked like a successful attorney’s wife, but I’ve never cared that much about stylish clothes and jewelry. I thought you understood.”
Tyler didn’t know what he understood. At the moment he was exhausted, jet-lagged and his career was on shaky ground. He supposed there was a certain truth to his mother’s claim, though. His parents’ social circle would have expected them to be perfectly dressed.
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m wearing sensible shoes.” Rosemary lifted a foot. “Kurt got them for me when he went shopping in Stockton.”
The comment went over Tyler’s head for an instant then he frowned. “Who’s Kurt?”
“Sarah’s father, Kurt Fullerton. He manages the Poppy Gold greenhouses and working gardens, but he also helps the bakery by shopping down in Stockton for specialty items. He’s a lovely man.”
The warmth in her voice made Tyler pause. “Are you dating him?”
It might explain a lot.
The disappointment in his mother’s eyes deepened. “Your father has only been gone for eight months. While some people are ready to move on that quickly, I’m not one of them. Kurt and I met two weeks ago at the bakery. Hard as it may be for you to understand, men and women can just be friends.”
Tyler worked with both men and women, but he couldn’t claim any of them as friends. He didn’t have that many friends, even from college. After he’d rejected law school, his father had refused to pay for his education. So Tyler had worked and borrowed his way through college, which hadn’t left time for socializing.
“I still don’t see why it’s so important for you to work,” he said. “If you want to get involved with something again, what about your causes back home? Surely they need you.”
“I’m needed here.” Rosemary’s face lit up. “I hear Nathan outside with Kurt. They often spend time together in the afternoon.”
“Maybe I should meet him.”
“Fine, but mind your manners. I’ll freshen up and be out in a minute.” She hurried upstairs.
Tyler’s head ached worse as he stepped into the garden and saw a burly fellow talking to his brother. This was the guy his mom called “a lovely man”? He certainly didn’t resemble the petite blonde at the sweet shop. Sarah Fullerton was slender with an elfin face, while her muscular father would look right at home in a Hells Angels jacket and straddling a Harley-Davidson.
Kurt and Nathan were deep in a debate about the merits of Humvees versus the earlier jeeps used by the military, and for the first time in months, Tyler saw animation in his brother’s face.
Fullerton looked up. “I’m guessing you’re the brother.”
Since he hadn’t said “chauvinistic jackass,” Kurt probably didn’t know what had happened at Sarah’s Sweet Treats.
“Tyler Prentiss.” He put his hand out, and Kurt shook it with the strangling grip of a wrestler. “It sounds as if you’ve been in the service.”
“I’m retired army.”
“Kurt was in Kosovo and did a couple of tours in the Middle East,” Nathan interjected. “He saw more than his share of action.”
The older man sighed heavily. “We’ve all seen too much.” He stood as Tyler’s mother came through the door. “Good afternoon, Rosemary.”
“Good afternoon.” She smiled and pointed to her feet. “The shoes you picked out are wonderful.”
Kurt Fullerton looked abashed. “I just got what Sarah told me was comfortable.”
Tyler stepped back and watched his mom chat with Kurt, trying to decide if there was an underlying thread of flirtation. Friendship was one thing, but he wanted to know a whole lot more about Fullerton if something serious was going on. After all, his mother was a financially comfortable widow who was shockingly naive for a woman her age.
Nathan had become quiet again, the hollow expression creeping back into his eyes.
Hellfire. Why had he become a soldier instead of something safer? Yet even as the thought crossed Tyler’s mind, an uneasy sensation followed. He’d defended Nathan’s decision to enlist, saying it had to be his choice.
“Sarah mentioned that you’ve been promoted,” Kurt said to Rosemary. “Assistant manager, no less. Not bad.”
Rosemary sent a smug look in her eldest son’s direction. “That’s right. I love working for your daughter.”
“She’s a good kid, all right.”
A promotion?
Pain pounded in Tyler’s head. This would make it even harder to convince his mother to leave. She might be doing all right at the moment, but her moods had been wildly erratic since being widowed. For a while she’d be like her old self, then something would happen and she’d fall apart. It seemed unlikely that she’d drastically improved in the few weeks he’d been gone.
Perhaps he should try enlisting Sarah Fullerton’s help rather than antagonizing her, though he wasn’t sure what she could do. But at least if she fully understood the situation, she might be more supportive.
Of course, first he’d have to convince her that he wasn’t the chauvinistic jackass she’d accused him of being. And since he’d not only stuck his foot in his mouth but jammed it all the way down his throat, it might take some doing.
* * *
SARAH SLID INTO her bathtub that evening, feeling utterly decadent. She hadn’t enjoyed a long soak since her business had gone crazy, but thanks to Rosemary Prentiss, she might be getting her life back.
Imagine, she’d actually gotten six hours of sleep the night before. Six. She might have gotten seven if her cat hadn’t demanded treats at 2:00 a.m.
She looked over and saw Theo’s whiskered face gazing at her from the basket of clean laundry she’d brought upstairs.
“Thanks, Theo, I really wanted to wash that stuff again.”
He yawned, stretched out his front legs and rested his chin on them, a vision of smug contentment.
Sarah smiled and closed her eyes, reveling in the warm water and silence. She loved her business, but it was no longer quiet there, day or night. The shop was open for customers nine to five thirty, but the kitchen operated twenty-four hours a day.
The phone rang abruptly, and Theo lifted his head with a reproachful meow.
She considered not answering since she’d been getting numerous calls from an “unavailable” number—mostly silent messages on her voice mail—and figured they were telemarketing robocalls. Then she realized it was almost nine, which was a little late.
“Sorry, toots.” She scrambled out of the tub and grabbed the receiver, shrugging into her robe. “Hello?”
Silence.
Irritation filled her. It probably was a robocaller, checking to see when she was home so a “live” telemarketer would know when to reach her. Still, silent calls made her uneasy. Her ex-husband had used them to check on her a dozen times a day, paranoid that she might be cheating.
What a joke. He’d been the one cheating. He’d also used other tricks to frighten and control her. It had taken a long time after the divorce to stop being afraid of every odd occurrence.
Sarah looked at the caller ID log and saw the number was shown as unavailable, just like all the other calls. With an effort, she pushed the thought away and looked at Theo.
“Come to bed,” she told him.
As a male companion, he lacked certain qualities, but he slept next to her every night instead of tomcatting around like her ex. Not that she’d stayed married after learning about Doug’s infidelity.
And Theo’s feline smugness was a whole lot more appealing than Tyler Prentiss’s arrogance.
Sarah got into her nightshirt and lay down, thinking about Rosemary’s eldest son. He might be sexy and gorgeous, but she’d learned all too well what a handsome face could hide. She hadn’t left her marriage hating men; she knew her ex was a selfish, narcissistic creep who didn’t represent men in general. But when she was ready for another relationship, it wouldn’t be with an uptight guy like Tyler Prentiss. When the time was right, she wanted to be with someone who was easygoing and open, with no hidden dark side.
After a long time, she finally drifted into sleep, only to be jerked awake when the phone rang again.
Heart pounding, Sarah glanced at the clock. It was after midnight. She then checked the display and saw the number was unavailable. It couldn’t be anybody from her family, so they couldn’t be phoning with an emergency.
Her finger hovered over the talk button. She really didn’t want to know if silence would greet her if she answered.
After the last ring, she pushed the phone under a pillow.
With an anxious cry, Theo cuddled up to her again, his velvety black fur making him virtually invisible in the darkness. He put his paws around her neck and licked her cheek.
“Hey, buddy,” she murmured, grateful for his comforting warmth. It seemed to take forever to calm down, no matter how firmly she told herself to not overreact.
But it was hard, and the minutes ticked by.
Finally she got up to dress and head for the shop. If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well bake.
CHAPTER TWO (#u347fd3cf-8318-5e2e-85e4-6fa10251c84c)
TYLER WOKE TO the chirp of birds outside his window. His family’s suite was in a sprawling Victorian farmhouse surrounded by gardens, a far cry from the modern monstrosity his father had built in DC.
Okay, that wasn’t fair.
The architect had probably hoped to create something different, but Richard Prentiss would have demanded a house designed for society entertaining, rather than comfortable living. Something that fit their affluent Foxhall Crescent neighborhood.
Tyler tucked his arm under his neck and wished the birds would go somewhere else. Ordinarily he adapted well to time changes, but sleep was difficult these days between concern for Nathan and his mother.
And then there was the other thing...
Pain shot through his head, though he didn’t know if it was from the injuries he’d gotten two weeks earlier or from memories that were too fresh and unresolved to let go.
He resolutely turned his thoughts back to his family. In DC, his mother had a social circle and familiar surroundings. For Nathan, there were therapists and doctors experienced at treating military-related injuries and PTSD. Even if Nathan didn’t return to rehab, home seemed better than a tiny tourist town on the opposite side of the country.
But when they’d talked the previous evening, Nathan had refused to leave Glimmer Creek. Maybe it was the lack of experienced doctors that he liked, because he wouldn’t have to answer uncomfortable questions.
But if both Nathan and Mom insisted on staying, Tyler would have to stay, as well. Among his other concerns, he didn’t think his mother should be alone with Nathan at night. She’d been warned by the doctors not to interfere if he was having a nightmare, but it was still a concern. Tyler also wanted to be there in case she had another emotional crisis.
At any rate, the last time he’d left, his family had traveled across the country, defying medical orders. Maybe he was a chauvinist, but this time he was staying put and keeping an eye on things. The plane tickets he’d bought would have to wait.
A light knock sounded, then Rosemary called, “I’m leaving for work. Breakfast is in the refrigerator—Poppy Gold has it delivered every morning. Be sure to eat something.”
He got up and opened the door. “I don’t need to be told to eat, Mom. I’m not a child.”
“You’re treating me like one. The way you acted yesterday was outrageous.”
Plainly, she hadn’t forgiven him. But he hadn’t forgiven himself, either, so it was understandable.
“I was tired and not thinking straight. I apologize.”
Rosemary looked him up and down. “I accept your apology, but it’s Sarah I’m thinking about. She works horribly long hours and doesn’t need that kind of trouble.”
Tyler let out a heavy breath. It felt as if his mother was more concerned about a stranger than her own son. “I’ll apologize to her, too, but right now we need to discuss going home.”
Rosemary checked her watch. “I told you there’s nothing to discuss, and I’m out of time. I don’t believe in being late for work.”
Tyler scowled as she left. Rosemary Prentiss had been raised in a comfortable, old-fashioned Boston household, the only child of older parents. They’d expected her to simply marry well and raise a family, so it was difficult to see her having any preconceived notions about employment.
Yawning, he trotted downstairs and found Nathan on the couch in the living room.
“Did you spend the night there?”
“Yeah.”
“I see. Have you had any nightmares since you got here?” Tyler asked, deciding he couldn’t pretend everything was normal. It wasn’t and might never be again.
“Most days, but not a bad one until the night before last. I get claustrophobic in my bedroom, so I’m going to start sleeping out here.”
Tyler doubted claustrophobia was responsible, but he didn’t say so. “The bedrooms upstairs are spacious.”
Nathan angrily slapped his injured leg. “Maybe, but it’s hard to get there. Besides, there’s less chance I’ll wake Mom if we’re on different floors. Not that I’m sleeping much at night.”
Tyler didn’t know if Nathan’s anger was a good sign or a problem. Surely it was healthier for Nathan to be outwardly angry than tearing himself up inside. Still, sleeping on the couch and wearing clothes that couldn’t have been changed in two days sounded like more than anger. Nathan had always dressed sharply, even when off duty.
“You’re analyzing, big brother,” Nathan said softly. “Stop or your head may explode.”
The comment made Tyler feel better. It was an old joke between them. Nathan always went with his gut. He was instinctive, popular with his peers, the life of every party. Tyler wasn’t. He thought everything out. Analyzed. One girlfriend had called him an ice man when they broke up—it was his only serious relationship, and it had affirmed he wasn’t cut out for commitment.
All of which made his behavior at Sarah’s Sweet Treats even more bizarre. He should have reasoned the situation through and chosen a more effective strategy instead of charging in the way he had. Some ice man.
He looked at Nathan. “My head is fine.”
“And you had to analyze your answer before giving it to me. Eat breakfast—you need brain food.”
Tyler went into the kitchen and helped himself from the containers in the refrigerator. He reheated the meal in the microwave, then sat down and ate a bite of the potato casserole. It was delicious, though he nearly choked when he realized the decorative logo on the containers was the same one he’d seen on the sign at Sarah’s Sweet Treats.
So the bakery was more than a bakery, fed hundreds of people each morning. His knowledge of restaurant operations was limited, but he knew it was a high-stress, competitive business.
How long could his mother handle it? The term “nervous breakdown” wasn’t used much anymore, but whatever it was called now, she’d come close to one after his father’s funeral. On top of everything else, she’d panicked at the thought of dealing with her finances. So Tyler had spent months sorting the tangle his father had left.
Fortunately there was more than enough money, despite his father’s unexpected taste for risky speculations. Now he mostly needed to review her accounts each month to be sure everything was in order and that the automated bill payments had gone through.
Back in the living room, Tyler found his brother staring at the ceiling again. It didn’t look as if he’d moved an inch.
“Do you want to eat, or should I get rid of the leftovers?”
“Get rid of them.”
Tyler tidied the kitchen before heading upstairs to shower and dress. In the bathroom, he took out his electric shaver and began running it over his jaw.
Perhaps he could invite Sarah Fullerton to lunch as an apology—be tactful and treat her the way he would a difficult client. If she understood how important it was, she might even encourage his mother to quit and return home with Nathan.
Tyler nodded at his reflection in the mirror. It wasn’t much of a plan, but at least it was something.
* * *
SARAH STARTED A batch of bread while the rest of her employees finished clearing up from the breakfast sprint. Preparing and delivering breakfast to Poppy Gold was always a tight operation. She was exhausted from lack of sleep and lingering tension but refused to slow down.
She’d just put eight pans of Nebraska oatmeal bread into the oven when Aurelia came in. “Uh, Sarah, that guy from yesterday is back,” she said in a low tone. “He wants to talk to you.”
Why couldn’t he leave her alone?
“All right, I’ll be there in a minute.”
Gabby took over while Sarah removed her apron. Tyler Prentiss was on the sidewalk, so she stepped outside. “Yes, Mr. Prentiss?”
He gave her a deliberate smile he probably thought was charming. “Please, it’s Tyler. I came to apologize. I’m sorry for the way I behaved yesterday. It was inappropriate. Normally I’m quite calm and controlled.”
“Okay,” she said cautiously.
“Please let me take you to lunch so that I can explain. I checked on restaurants in the area. The steakhouse sounds good.”
Sarah blinked. Why did he think she’d want to eat with him? “Uh...sorry, I don’t take long lunches.” Perhaps he didn’t understand the demands of her business. She might be the owner, but that meant she had even less free time than anyone else.
“Maybe we could discuss it now.”
She let out a breath. “I’ve accepted your apology, so there’s nothing to discuss.”
A hint of unidentifiable emotion flickered in his eyes. Today, at least, Tyler Prentiss was projecting the dark, brooding thing perfectly, giving the impression that something more intense was going on.
“That isn’t entirely the case,” he said politely. “You heard me talking with my mother yesterday, so you’re aware that my brother should still be in rehab. I was hoping that if you knew more about the situation, you’d help.”
Sarah cocked her head. “I don’t see how. Rosemary told me about Nathan’s injuries, but I’ve never met him. Oh, unless you’re thinking my dad could do something... I know he’s been spending time with your brother.”
“Actually, I hoped you’d urge Mom to go home. Then Nathan would go, as well.”
Sarah released an exasperated breath. “Doing that would make Rosemary believe I’m unhappy with her work, which isn’t the case.”
“Maybe, but why did you hire her in the first place?” Tyler asked. “Mom doesn’t have any experience. And promoting her so quickly?”
Sarah could barely control her irritation. Her ex-husband had made her feel as if she was incapable of making her own decisions, and she refused to let that happen again.
“I’m not going to justify myself. This is my shop. Your mom says you’re an architect. How would you like me to ask why you chose to put skylights or recycle chutes into one of your building designs?”
“It isn’t the same,” he returned in a clipped tone. She might have hit a nerve, though it was hard to tell with Tyler. He seemed to have no problem revealing anger, but his other emotions were much less clear.
“It’s exactly the same. That’s your business—this is mine,” she retorted.
Tyler’s brown eyes focused intensely on her, but she could tell little from his expression. “Fair enough. Look, I know my mother. She’s a lovely woman with good intentions, but she isn’t the nine-to-five type.”
“She’s working eight-to-four, though that’s beside the point. It’s up to Rosemary if she wants to return to the East Coast with your brother—I’m not going to manipulate her. And for your information, she asked for the job—I didn’t twist her arm to take it.”
“I’m sure you didn’t since she doesn’t have any qualifications,” he snapped.
No matter what Tyler seemed to think, Sarah wondered how well he actually knew his mother. Experience could be gained without a paycheck. From what Rosemary had said about her volunteer work, she had a huge amount of management experience.
Yet in a way, Tyler had a point. Rosemary was a visitor to Glimmer Creek, staying at Poppy Gold temporarily. She’d said nothing about moving permanently to California or whether she would leave when Nathan was ready.
Tyler cleared his throat. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. It’s just that I don’t know what to do. Nathan isn’t getting the care he needs and Mom is so annoyed with me, I doubt she’ll listen to anything I have to say for a while.”
Sarah suppressed a smile. The way he’d made the stiff, embarrassed admission was almost endearing; plainly he wasn’t comfortable relying on anyone else.
“You may be right,” she acknowledged. “But can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” Tyler said, seeming wary.
“Well, I get why Nathan might be better off in rehab, but what will you do if he keeps refusing?”
* * *
IT WAS A valid question, and Tyler wished he had an answer. Confiding in anyone was miles outside his comfort zone, but he might be forced into it. His mother and Nathan’s welfare were too important, and right now Sarah Fullerton seemed the most likely person who could help.
Yet before he could say anything else, Sarah stirred restlessly. “Sorry, but morning is my busiest period. I need to get back to my kitchen.”
Tyler let out a sigh of his own as she turned and disappeared into the bakery. He’d been right about her figure—without the chef’s apron, her body was a delectable balance of slim lines and curves.
He shook his head to clear it. Getting distracted by a beautiful woman was the last thing he needed.
Officially he was under investigation for a recent building collapse in the greater Chicago area, an incident that had injured five men. Prior to the start of construction, Milo Corbin, the owner, had demanded unsafe modifications to the plans. He’d grown so unreasonable that Tyler had resigned from the project. Changes had subsequently been made to his original design, but Corbin and the second architect were still trying to shift the blame to Tyler.
They wouldn’t be successful.
Tyler had gone over his original blueprints and knew they were sound. He’d also kept careful documentation about the alterations Corbin had wanted. Nonetheless, Tyler felt responsible. He should have done more to prevent construction from moving ahead.
Ironically, Corbin had promptly screamed for Tyler’s help after the collapse, so he’d flown to Illinois from Italy to spend a couple of days helping with the search-and-rescue efforts. After all, he’d studied the changes Corbin had wanted and predicted they’d lead to structural failure, so he was reasonably certain of where and how the damage had occurred. With the city engineer out of town, Tyler had even signed a waiver and gone into the building to advise on the safest way to extract trapped workers.
What he didn’t understand was why a particular concrete wall hadn’t held. The thing had crumbled unexpectedly, bringing debris down on him and one of the firemen. Though injured, Tyler had pocketed a chunk of the concrete for later analysis. He’d given it to the lawyers he’d hired in Illinois.
Lawyers.
Tyler was struck by the irony. He’d never been interested in his father’s work, and now he was relying on a bulldog Chicago law firm to protect him.
But no matter what happened, nothing would take away the pain those construction workers had suffered or the fear their families had experienced as they’d waited for them to be found.
CHAPTER THREE (#u347fd3cf-8318-5e2e-85e4-6fa10251c84c)
WHEN TYLER GOT BACK to the suite, he was relieved to see his brother had changed his clothes and was out in the garden.
Needing to accomplish something, he went inside and rang the rehab center to request recommendations for Nathan’s treatment.
“I can give information to your brother, but not to you. Privacy laws are very strict,” Dr. Chin explained.
Tyler gritted his teeth. “But you have talked to me, a dozen or more times since he went into rehab.”
“Yes, but the release he signed has expired. Is Nathan there? He could give me permission. At the very least, I’d like to know how he’s doing.”
“Just a moment.” Tyler went into the garden and held the phone out to his brother. “Dr. Chin would like to speak with you.”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
“He’s concerned about your health,” Tyler said tightly. “And he left a staff meeting to take my call. Please do him the courtesy of listening to what he has to say.”
Nathan simply hunched his shoulders.
Tyler put the phone to his ear again. “I’m sorry, Doctor, my brother is being a jackass.” Even as he said it, he remembered Sarah calling him the same thing.
Damnation, how had she gotten into his head?
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dr. Chin said. “I’ve been thinking, if you can’t convince him to return, perhaps I...um, can send you some general recommendations. Ones that could apply to most of the recovering soldiers I’ve treated.”
A faint sense of relief went through Tyler. He still thought Nathan should be getting twenty-four-hour care and the doctor appeared to agree, but any guidance would help. “I’d appreciate whatever you can give me.” He provided his email address and disconnected, promising to call again if Nathan’s condition worsened.
Tyler dropped the phone in his pocket. If he thought confronting his brother would do any good, he’d confront him. But he suspected it wouldn’t, so he asked Nathan to take a walk with him instead. The idea was met with indifference and finally refusal. After that, Tyler suggested a game of chess. Nathan still wasn’t interested.
Finally Tyler sat in a nearby chair and put a stern, I-mean-business expression on his face. “Have you seen a doctor since coming to Glimmer Creek?”
Nathan gave him a dirty look. “No. I’m tired of doctors.”
“I don’t blame you, but I need to know what therapy program you’re supposed to be following and any other information you and Mom have left out. How about that medication they were giving you for the nightmares? Don’t you need refills?”
His brother shrugged. “It wasn’t helping, so I stopped taking it. Anyway, I can’t talk now. Kurt is showing me the Poppy Gold greenhouses today. I have to find out when he’s coming.”
Nathan got out his own phone but was obviously waiting for Tyler to leave before making the call.
Tyler finally went inside, hoping it was a good sign that his brother was carrying his cell. In the hospital and rehab center, Nathan had resisted being in contact with friends or hearing about the affairs of the world. Their mother had been the same, which was why Tyler had figured neither of them would have heard about the incident in Illinois. It helped that this sort of story, without any fatalities, usually wasn’t in the news for long. And as it turned out, they also must have been busy getting settled into Poppy Gold.
Tyler massaged the muscles at the back of his neck. The past two weeks had been rough. After being treated for his injuries, he’d returned to Italy and finished his work there, only to fly home and discover his family was gone.
But at least he’d broached the subject of medical care with Nathan, however unproductive the conversation had been. Perhaps they could talk about it as a family and figure out what they were planning from here...because he suspected they weren’t going back to the East Coast any time soon.
* * *
KURT FULLERTON PARKED behind his daughter’s catering business for his usual midmorning check to see if she needed anything.
“Hey, Dad,” Sarah called as he came through the back door. He’d been there earlier, and she still looked so pale and tense that he frowned.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Just busy.”
Kurt wasn’t sure. Something told him something was going on, but she probably wasn’t going to tell him; she’d inherited his ex-wife’s slender grace and his pigheaded nature.
Wanting to taking care of his daughter was a tough habit to kick, especially since he hadn’t been around much in her early years. After his wife had run off with another man, he’d brought Sarah home to his parents, convinced that caring for a toddler on an army base was impossible for a single father.
Now he knew that he’d given up too easily. Lizzie’s actions had embittered him, and for a while he’d become the hardest-living son of a gun in the army. Instead he should have done his best to be a good dad.
“You hardly ever let me do anything to help around here,” he complained.
“That isn’t true,” Sarah shot back. “You shop for me every week, and you’re always finding something else to do. And that isn’t even counting all the work you did remodeling the two kitchens. Twice.”
“That’s nothing. I like being involved and knowing what’s going on.”
Kurt just wished he’d known more about Sarah’s troubles with her louse of a husband.
A timer buzzed and Sarah hurried to remove loaves of bread from the ovens.
Kurt went to the front counter and got a cup of joe, then ambled down the short hallway to the office to visit with Rosemary.
“Good morning, Kurt. Don’t you want something to go with your coffee?” she asked. “Sarah made poppy-seed muffins earlier. I’ve never seen anyone get as much done as she does.”
“That’s my girl. But I’d better not indulge, I already had her egg and ham pie when I brought over a batch of green onions from the greenhouse.” He patted his stomach.
* * *
ROSEMARY TRIED NOT to laugh. Sarah had confided that her father, along with the rest of the male half of Glimmer Creek, wouldn’t eat anything called quiche, so she’d put a puff pastry crust on top and called it egg pie.
“Working here is terrible for the waistline,” Rosemary admitted. “I haven’t tasted a single thing that isn’t delicious.”
“You’ve got a long way to go before you need to worry about your waistline,” Kurt assured her. “Me, I’ve got a linebacker build, unlike my brothers. I’m glad Sarah didn’t get my shape.”
Kurt’s large family intrigued Rosemary. Nine siblings, and most of them had several children, as well. It was sad that he’d never found someone else after his divorce, but she understood how difficult it was to risk loving again. After all, while her husband’s death had been devastating, the grief had also renewed an old, wrenching sorrow...the loss of her first child.
One-year-old Kittie had been the light of their lives. Bright and full of fun, she’d brought joy to everyone. It was only after her death from spinal meningitis that they’d moved to Washington, DC, and Richard’s dedication to his career had turned into an obsession. Rosemary hadn’t handled the loss any better; she’d dived into fund-raising for nonprofit organizations. They’d even decided not to have more children, only to discover Tyler was on the way.
“Sarah has your eyes,” Rosemary said, hoping her voice wouldn’t break. It wasn’t that she loved Tyler and Nathan any less, but it was wrenching to remember her daughter.
“Except they’re pretty on Sarah.” He grinned and drank a gulp of coffee.
Rosemary thought Kurt’s eyes were nice on him, too. He was an attractive man, not classically handsome like her husband had been, but good-looking, with a reassuring manner.
“Do you ever think about grandchildren?” she asked wistfully. A year earlier, she’d had high hopes of becoming a grandmother. Nathan had been engaged and looking forward to fatherhood, then his fiancée had decided she couldn’t handle being a soldier’s wife.
“I’d love them,” Kurt said, “but Sarah’s marriage was pretty bad. I don’t know when she’ll be ready.” He finished his coffee and got up. “Better get going. I wouldn’t want my daughter to think I’m interfering with your work.”
After a moment, Rosemary heard him in the kitchen saying goodbye to Sarah. She envied their close relationship. She’d seen it from her first day at the bakery when Kurt had delivered a load of supplies.
A thoroughly nice man, Rosemary had concluded after watching father and daughter together. She was glad for them, but it was a reminder that she didn’t have a similar relationship with her own children.
Maybe that was why she’d gone along when Nathan insisted on leaving the rehab hospital...because she’d hoped it might bring them closer.
* * *
GREAT-UNCLE MILT came into the shop to see Sarah shortly before the lunch-hour rush.
“Hey, Uncle Milt, how about a sandwich?” Sarah nodded to Aurelia, who began packing his favorite meal into a bag.
“I should say no, but I won’t. Just put it on my account. I mostly came to tell you about that fellow from yesterday.”
“Oh?” Sarah said cautiously, hoping he didn’t know Tyler had shown up again. “Let’s go for a walk.”
Aurelia handed Great-Uncle Milt his lunch, and they headed down the street.
“I spoke to Zach and he did a standard background check at the police station,” Great-Uncle Milt explained as they strolled toward the city park. “It turns out Tyler Prentiss is connected to an investigation in the Chicago area.”
Sarah nearly tripped. She didn’t have a high opinion of Rosemary’s eldest son, but she didn’t think he was a criminal.
“What sort of investigation?”
“Earlier in July a building under construction collapsed and injured several workers. Prentiss was the original architect, though another architect took over the project in February and made changes. Nonetheless, the owner is blaming Mr. Prentiss. The investigation could take months to resolve.”
Sarah wasn’t surprised that Rosemary had been silent about the incident; it wasn’t something you’d casually discuss. “It doesn’t sound as if he could be responsible if changes were made to his original design.”
“I realize that, and Prentiss’s work is highly regarded, which I’m sure the authorities are keeping in mind. Other than this, his record is spotless. Not even a speeding ticket.”
“I appreciate the update.”
Sarah wasn’t sure what to make of Great-Uncle Milt’s revelation, though it actually made her feel more sympathetic toward Tyler. She knew what it was like to be to be exhausted and not thinking straight.
Within just a few months, his father had died and his brother had been seriously injured, and now his career was under siege. What did they say about trouble coming in threes?
Rosemary had talked often about her sons since starting to work at the bakery, and a picture of Tyler had emerged as an extremely cool and measured man.
Sarah had begun to think of him almost as a hermit crab, toting around an oversize shell into which he could withdraw. The mental image still fit what she’d seen of his personality—except for the bad temper he’d shown—but she hadn’t expected his “shell” to be so...mouthwatering.
With a sigh, Sarah glanced at the clock tower on City Hall. “Sorry, Uncle Milt, but I have to scoot,” she said. “See you on Sunday.”
Sarah hurried back toward the sweet shop, and as bad luck would have it, ran into Tyler Prentiss going into the newly relocated Valentino’s Pizza Pizzazz. In such a small town, encounters were to be expected. She just wished it could have happened on a different day.
He gave her an inquiring look. “I thought you weren’t taking lunch.”
“I don’t take long lunches, though in this case I was discussing something with a relative, not eating.” Sarah resisted the temptation to say she had the right to do whatever she wanted, regardless of what she’d told him. “Uncle Milt is the former Glimmer Creek police chief.”
Tyler’s expression didn’t change. “Mom mentioned you have family in the area.”
“That’s right.”
Grandma Margaret called their family an embarrassment of riches. Sarah thought that was apt. She was fortunate to have so many people who cared about her.
Of course, she hadn’t always felt lucky when she was a teenager and couldn’t get away with a tiny bit of rebellion—too many relatives to see it.
Being a little wild might have been fun, and maybe she wouldn’t have made such a huge mistake with her ex-husband if she’d been able to learn from smaller mistakes as a teen.
“Is something wrong?” Tyler prompted.
“Nope. I understand you don’t have any extended family yourself.”
“It’s just the three of us now.”
Sarah couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have so few relatives. Sometimes it seemed as if everyone in Glimmer Creek was related to her in one way or another.
“I’m sorry about your dad,” she said, unsure if she should say anything at all. Some people didn’t want to be reminded of someone they’d lost.
A mask seemed to come over Tyler’s face. “Thank you. He was a great lawyer. Tops in the DC area.”
“Oh. That’s nice.”
Despite her comment, she was puzzled. If she’d lost her father, even sympathy from a stranger would have made her declare how special and wonderful he was. Calling him a brave soldier or gifted horticulturist would only have occurred to her later.
She squared her shoulders. “Well, I won’t keep you.”
Sarah headed down the passageway between the sweet shop and the pizza parlor to go in through the back entrance. The front of the bakery was so crowded that there was a line out the door, extending down the street.
Yet a part of her mind wasn’t thinking about the shop and everything that needed doing... It was thinking about Tyler Prentiss and the closed-off look in his eyes when he’d talked about his father.
* * *
SHORTLY AFTER THE lunch rush, Sarah was putting the final touches on a batch of wild blackberry tarts when Rosemary came into the kitchen.
“Sarah, there’s a Mr. Seibert on the line for you, from City Hall.”
Sarah hurried into the office and picked up the receiver. “Hey, Stephen.” She didn’t know him professionally—he’d started working for the city after the various renovations had been completed on her business—but they’d met at a few community events.
“Hello, Sarah. I...um... I’m sorry, but I need to schedule an inspection,” he said hesitantly.
“Sure, but we don’t have any remodeling planned.”
Stephen cleared his throat. “Actually, I received a complaint saying your facility might not meet building codes for the number of employees. Also that the air-conditioning might not be up to par.”
“A complaint?” Sarah tried not to react as she recalled Tyler saying he didn’t want his mother in a hot, crowded kitchen. “From who?”
“It was anonymous. These things usually are, and they’re usually a bunch of nonsense, but I still need to check. It’s standard city protocol.”
“Okay. Do you want to come today?”
“Tomorrow is fine. How about 2:00 p.m.? I’ll also have to see your work schedules to know how many employees are present at any given time.”
“Whatever you need.”
Sarah got off and tried keep the frustration from showing on her face.
“Is there a problem?” Rosemary asked worriedly.
“No, the city just does inspections now and then.”
“I heard you mention a complaint. Who would complain? Everybody is so happy here.”
Sarah shrugged. “Stephen doesn’t know—it was anonymous. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.”
On reflection, an anonymous complaint didn’t sound like Tyler Prentiss. Of course, she couldn’t think of anyone else it could be, either, though the memory of the silent calls she’d been having popped into her mind.
Don’t be paranoid, Sarah ordered. It was unlikely the two problems were connected.
“I heard Tyler dropped by this morning,” Rosemary said, still looking upset.
“Yes, he apologized.”
Rosemary brightened. “I’m glad to hear that. He means well, but he’s protective. The truth is, I was a complete mess after Richard died. I’d let my husband handle all our personal affairs and wasn’t the least prepared when...” She swallowed. “Richard died of a massive stroke. He was older than me and should have retired years ago, but nothing could make him slow down.”
“It must have been a shock.”
“He simply wouldn’t take care of himself. But I shouldn’t keep you—you have enough to do.”
Sarah smiled. She didn’t mind the moments that she and Rosemary got to talking. Thanks to the older woman’s ability to manage the business end of the sweet shop, she was getting more time to do what she loved most.
“Actually, I’m going to finish my blackberry tarts, then go home and take a nap,” she explained. “I’ll come back later to make fudge.” Her candy chef had asked for an extra day off this week, and she didn’t want to run low.
In the kitchen, Sarah found someone else had finished the tarts, so she gratefully left. At the house, she set the alarm and unplugged her landline before lying down. Theo delightedly jumped up with her and settled down, purring.
“Hey, baby.”
It was crazy to feel edgy, even though she knew it was unlikely that anything weird was going on, but it still took time to drop off. The question kept revolving in her head—who could have complained? She easily met the county’s guidelines for commercial kitchens.
Finally she began counting black cats in her head. Happy, playful black cats, and with Theo leaning against her shoulder, she drifted to sleep.
* * *
ROSEMARY WAS DISAPPOINTED she didn’t find Nathan in the garden when she got home. She’d brought him a sandwich and salad at lunchtime, but he’d said Tyler was getting pizza so the food had gone into the refrigerator.
Nathan wasn’t in the living room or his bedroom.
“Is that you, Mom?” called Tyler.
“Yes.” She hurried out from Nathan’s room. “Where is your brother?”
“Didn’t he tell you? Mr. Fullerton took him to see the Poppy Gold greenhouses. I think they’re spending the afternoon together.”
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot.” Flustered, Rosemary put the kettle on for tea. “I heard you apologized to Sarah,” she said finally.
“I asked her to lunch, but she didn’t have time.”
“She’s always busy. Tomorrow will be especially hectic since she, um, got a call this afternoon from the city.”
A thought had been nagging her...that Tyler might have made the complaint. It was dreadful to think he could do something like that, but she also knew he was unhappy about her job.
“Apparently someone made an anonymous complaint,” she continued. “It’s terrible that Sarah has to take time to deal with something like this. I can’t imagine her violating any rules.”
“Then the inspection shouldn’t be a problem.” Tyler’s expression didn’t reveal much. You’d think as his mother she’d be able to read more in his face, but it was no easier now than when he’d been a child. So unless she asked outright, she wasn’t going to discover whether he was responsible. Surely not, though.
“What else did Sarah say?” Tyler prompted, breaking into her thoughts.
“Nothing. I’m just concerned about her.”
“She isn’t your daughter.”
“I realize that,” Rosemary returned sharply, though she knew her son wasn’t trying to be cruel. He didn’t know about his sister. Richard had insisted they never talk about Kittie, and since they’d moved to the DC area after her death, their new social circle hadn’t known about her, either.
Would it upset Tyler and Nathan to learn that an important part of their family history had never been discussed, or would it help them understand their father a little better?
* * *
TYLER SUSPECTED HIS MOTHER wondered if he’d made the call, but the idea was offensive. It would have been purely to harass Sarah, and he’d never do that.
“The complaint must be a misunderstanding,” he said.
“Of course. But it will take time to resolve, and Sarah already works appalling hours. Even worse than you, I think.”
He didn’t think his work hours were appalling, certainly no longer than his father’s. Richard had rarely been at home when his sons were awake. Tyler hadn’t faulted his dad for being a dedicated lawyer, but why have kids if he didn’t like them? Just to have someone carry on the family name and follow in his footsteps?
Tyler didn’t feel the need for children, and since his work took him all over the world, it wouldn’t be fair to a family for him to be gone weeks or months at a stretch.
Frankly, he didn’t intend to change.
He liked going full tilt. He wanted to leave his mark on the world by designing memorable buildings, not by passing on his genes.
“I’m sure Sarah will manage,” Tyler said. “Besides, how long could it take? She doesn’t need to go around with the inspector, just talk with him afterward.”
His mother simply shook her head and walked upstairs.
Outside, Tyler saw his brother return with Kurt Fullerton and sit on the garden chairs, talking. It still amazed Tyler that Sarah was Kurt’s daughter. While she had his green eyes, she was delicate and slim, with none of his square solidity.
Tyler stepped onto the porch, only to decide against joining the other two men. Instead he went for a walk around Poppy Gold. While he wasn’t a huge fan of Victorian architecture, the place projected an air of gracious elegance. An hour later, he returned to the suite and found his mother talking to a man on the porch.
“I’m so sorry,” she was saying, visibly distressed. “Maybe they can put it on my account here at Poppy Gold.”
“What’s wrong?” Tyler asked.
“I ordered food, but can’t find my purse.”
“No problem.” He took out his wallet and turned to the deliveryman. “How much do we owe you?”
“Forty-eight even.”
Tyler extracted three twenties and held them out. “Keep the change. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
“Thank you, sir.”
His mother’s cheeks were pink as he carried the bags of food into the kitchen and put them on the breakfast table.
“I must have left my purse at work,” she said. “I’ll get it after dinner.”
“Isn’t it safe to leave in the office?”
“Of course it’s safe. Someone is always at the shop, but I keep my blood pressure medicine in there. I’ll need that tonight. And I...well, I keep your father’s wallet in there. I like having it nearby.”
“I’ll go now. You and Nathan start eating without me.”
Tyler didn’t wait for her to agree. After losing his father to a stroke, he wasn’t taking any chances with his mother’s medication. The door was locked at Sarah’s Sweet Treats, but he knocked until an employee came out from the back.
“I’m sorry, we’re closed,” the woman called pleasantly.
“My mother works here. Rosemary Prentiss. She left her purse and needs it.”
“Just a minute, I’ll let Sarah know.”
She disappeared. A few minutes passed and Tyler wondered if he’d been forgotten, then Sarah came out and unlocked the door. She looked more rested than she had earlier, though still on edge.
“We keep running into each other,” she said, stepping aside to let him enter and then locking the door again.
“Sorry for the inconvenience. Mom forgot her purse in the office.”
“That’s what Katie said. I phoned Rosemary, and she said it was okay to let you take it.”
“Sarah,” called a frantic voice. “I keep stirring this, but I don’t know what else to do.”
Sarah raced to the back of the shop. Tyler followed her through a bright kitchen filled with stainless steel appliances to one that was smaller but no less tidy. She was already at one of the stoves, stirring the contents of a large pot.
Chocolate, he realized. Obviously he’d come at an inconvenient time, though he wondered if there was ever a convenient time with Sarah.
She checked a large thermometer and gave the mixture an extra stir before pouring it into a rectangular pan.
“It’s fudge,” Sarah explained, casting him a glance.
“Do you make all the candy you sell?”
“It’s all made here, yes. But I have an employee who does most of it. She’s taking a personal day, so I’m filling in. Usually I focus on developing new recipes. Tonight I may experiment with lemon meringue fudge.”
Tyler frowned. “Fudge is supposed to be chocolate.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Not the way I make it. Do you like cappuccino?”
“I suppose.”
“Then come with me.”
Sarah returned to the front of the bakery and turned on the lights in a display case. She cut a piece from a cream-colored slab and gave it to him on a napkin. “This is my cappuccino fudge.”
He took a bite and the rich essence of coffee and cinnamon rolled across his tongue. Though he wasn’t big on candy, he was disappointed when the last of it was gone. “That’s pretty good,” he admitted. “I concede that fudge doesn’t have to be chocolate.”
She served him another couple of samples, including one named Hogwarts Special.
“Hogwarts Special?” Tyler echoed.
“For the Harry Potter fans. The books talk about pumpkin juice, but this is mostly pumpkin spice. I haven’t managed to get more than a mild pumpkin flavor in the fudge. Blackberry is easier because the berries are so tangy.”
Sarah was clearly enthused about her creations, enough to indulge even him with samples when he must have been a thorn in her side for their entire acquaintance. Yet a thought kept tapping in the back of Tyler’s brain...was she being nice because she thought he’d made the anonymous complaint?
She couldn’t be worried about passing an inspection. From what he’d seen, both of her kitchens were modern, spotless and pleasant places to work.
“I don’t cook and I’ve never met anyone who invented recipes,” he said, genuinely curious about the process. As a kid, his mom had hired a chef or a caterer, and he’d relied mostly on restaurants as an adult.
“Chefs and bakers invent recipes all the time. I’ll get Rosemary’s purse.”
Sarah left and returned a minute later. She put the purse inside one of the Sweet Treat’s shopping bags before handing it to him, probably assuming he wouldn’t want to walk back through Poppy Gold carrying a woman’s handbag. It was true. While he didn’t think he was irredeemably chauvinistic, he also wasn’t exactly enlightened, either.
CHAPTER FOUR (#u347fd3cf-8318-5e2e-85e4-6fa10251c84c)
BACK AT THE SUITE, Tyler found his mother had kept the food warm so they could eat together. It was an awkward meal that might have gone better if family dinners had been a Prentiss tradition. But even on holidays, his parents had attended social events.
After they finished eating, he cleared his throat.
“Nathan, as you know, I talked to Dr. Chin at the rehab center today. He’s sending recommendations for you to follow while you’re here in California. Since Mom has a job, I’ll be taking you to your appointments. Unless you decide to return to rehab, that is.”
His brother glared. “That isn’t happening. And I don’t need his recommendations. I’m doing fine. As for appointments, if I never see another doctor, I’ll be happy.”
Rosemary straightened. “That isn’t what we agreed to when you wanted to leave the rehab center. I’ve let it go longer than I intended, but don’t think I’ve forgotten.”
It was nice to see she hadn’t completely lost touch with reality. Tyler had envisioned her believing that love and sunshine would be enough to resolve Nathan’s PTSD and restore him physically. While it might be possible, he’d do a whole lot better with treatment.
Tyler leaned forward. “I don’t suppose a tiny town like Glimmer Creek has many medical services. We’ll probably have to drive to the nearest city for doctors and therapy.”
His brother looked ready to argue, so Tyler fixed him with a hard stare. “In the hospital, you told me you wanted to go back on active duty. That isn’t likely to happen without therapy. Or have you decided to leave the service?”
Resentment flickered in Nathan’s eyes. “I don’t want a medical discharge. The army is going to do a medical review in a few months to determine my fitness.”
Tyler ached, suspecting Nathan questioned whether he could pass the review. Maybe he couldn’t. Maybe he no longer wanted to return to active duty—after his personal tour of hell, nobody would blame him for deciding he’d had enough.
“We don’t have to talk about this now, do we?” their mother asked in a shaky voice, and Tyler looked at her sharply. Her eyes were wide and her cheeks were pale.
“No,” he and his brother said in unison. Taking care of her was an old habit.
Nathan put his hand over hers. “It’s okay, Mom, I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”
“You’re entitled.”
“Naw, but don’t worry, I’ll see a doctor. Right now I’m tired, so I’m going to lie down.”
She smiled shakily. “Is there anything I can get you?”
Nathan shook his head and limped out of the kitchen.
Tyler turned to his mother.
“Did you have to mention him going back on active duty?” she asked tearfully. “He’s sacrificed enough.”
“It’s important. Nathan has to want to get better. Deciding what he wants and how to get it will motivate him.”
“I realize that. And I’m sorry I didn’t get him to a doctor earlier. He’s just so much calmer here, and I wanted to give him time. Besides, Kurt is good for him. They’ve shared a lot of the same experiences, and Nathan respects his opinion.”
“Some of Nathan’s doctors and therapists at the Walter Reed Medical Center were combat vets, too. What makes Kurt Fullerton different?”
“He just is.”
She began clearing the table, shaking her head when he offered to help. So Tyler got out his laptop to send an email to his office, asking them to ship basic drafting equipment to him at Poppy Gold. He didn’t know how long he’d have to be in California, but he had commissions with deadlines and couldn’t sit idly by.
Yet he kept shooting worried looks at his mom, who was now fussing with the refrigerator. His relationship with his father might have been complicated, but his death had shaken Tyler to the core. When it came to his mother, he didn’t want to confront feelings like that again for a very long time.
* * *
THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON, Rosemary worked at the bakery’s front counter to stay out of the way of the building inspection, but as soon as Stephen Seibert left, she hurried to the office and saw Sarah looking tense.
“Is something wrong?” Rosemary asked. “You can’t have failed the inspection.”
“I passed, but Stephen told me the county is expecting to implement new building codes next year. I meet the state codes, but not all the new ones that have been proposed for Glimmer County. So I’ll have to remodel. Again.”
“How long do you have to comply?”
“Within twelve months of the effective date. The problem is there may not be enough space to enlarge the kitchens. Stephen will send a detailed analysis in a few days.” Sarah squared her shoulders and smiled brightly. “But don’t worry, I’ll figure it out. In the meantime, I’d better get busy with tasks that need doing today.”
Rosemary kept wondering how she could help, but all she could think of was to get Tyler involved. He was a gifted architect, and he might be able to come up a plan.
Except Tyler might resist. He seemed determined to stay in Glimmer Creek as long as she and Nathan were here, but he was also uncomfortable with the idea of his mother working.
When Kurt had learned about Tyler’s reaction to her job, he’d chuckled and asked if her son was worried about becoming a latchkey kid. It had made her laugh, as well, but it had also made her think. As a family they’d gone through a tremendous upheaval over the past year. Maybe that explained why Tyler didn’t want to see his mother in a new way.
Would that affect his willingness to help Sarah?
There was only one way to find out, so as soon as Rosemary got back to the Yosemite suite after work, she told Tyler about the building inspector’s news.
“She’ll need expert advice from an architect,” she concluded. “I wondered if you could take a quick look and tell her what you think.”
Tyler sighed. “I have commissions to work on while I’m here. My office is sending a drafting table and everything else I need by overnight courier.”
“Just consider it,” Rosemary implored. “What they’re asking seems terribly unfair, and you might be able to think of options the building inspector didn’t.”
* * *
“ALL RIGHT, I’LL make time,” Tyler agreed reluctantly.
On the rare occasions he’d encountered his mother’s friends since starting his career, he’d discovered they loved to get free professional services, no matter how wealthy they might be. Sarah would probably appreciate a free consult, even from him.
“Thank you, dear,” his mother said. “What would you like for dinner?”
“Order whatever you want. I’m not hungry. I thought I’d explore the town. Maybe I’ll stop by the bakery and see if Sarah wants to talk about the remodeling,” he added impulsively.
His mother’s face brightened. “That would be wonderful. She should still be there.”
Tyler’s mood was wry as he walked to Sarah’s Sweet Treats. Volunteering his advice was the diplomatic thing to do. His mother hadn’t accused him of calling in the complaint, but the faint doubt he’d seen in her eyes bothered him. He didn’t expect blind faith, but she could have asked.
Or maybe he was just being unreasonable and the thought had never occurred to her.
After all, he felt guilty for what had happened in Illinois, if only for failing to convince the owner that the design changes weren’t safe. Knowing it was the new architect’s responsibility wasn’t enough to absolve him of all blame. So maybe he was more sensitive than he needed to be.
Though it was late in the afternoon, the scents emanating from the sweet shop were richly tantalizing. Tyler opened the door and saw customers still crowding the small waiting and sitting area.
Sarah was working with two other employees, filling orders and chatting with the customers. She flicked a glance in his direction and her mouth tightened. A few minutes later, she flipped the Open sign to Closed, but it was another fifteen minutes before everyone was gone.
When it was quiet, she walked over to him. “Do you need something?”
“Mom mentioned you might need some renovations because of upcoming building code changes. She asked me to see if I can make some suggestions.”
An interesting expression crossed Sarah’s face. “That isn’t necessary. I don’t even have the full analysis from the building inspector yet.”
While Tyler had been reluctant to offer his advice, he also wasn’t used to having his services rejected. “Then maybe when you get it.”
“I don’t—” She broke off and looked at her two front-counter employees. “Hey, guys, you don’t need to stay and clean up. Put a half hour of overtime on your timesheets, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The pair left and Sarah sat opposite Tyler at the small café table. “I’m not sure why you’d offer, but it isn’t necessary. I’ll figure it out.”
“Is there any possibility of protesting the changes? Usually there’s a public comment period when regulations are changing.”
“I...” Sarah started to yawn and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, I’m short on sleep. I could protest, but the proposed rules aren’t bad. They only affect me because the restaurant and catering side of my business has gotten so huge. If I’d known code changes were coming, I would have bought a larger building to start with. Now I may need to relocate, which is too bad, because I get a huge amount of foot traffic from the tour buses.”
“That’s an even better reason for me to take a look,” Tyler said, unsure why he was pushing the issue. “Besides, a year isn’t that long when it comes to this sort of thing. If nothing else, it can be difficult to book contractors. You must have experience with that after your previous remodels.”
“Actually, my father and other family members insisted on doing most of the work,” Sarah murmured.
* * *
AS TYLER NODDED, Sarah thought about the preliminary report the building inspector had given her. She hated the idea of going into debt again, but the worst part was not knowing if another remodel was possible. She didn’t see how an extra inch of space could be gained without reducing the already-small customer area, and even that might not be enough.
“Do you think your family would be willing to help do the work again?” Tyler asked.
Sarah fought an unreasonable panic at the thought of losing her independence, which always came when she relied too heavily on family. She hadn’t been married to Douglas for that long, but she was still repairing the damage he’d done to her self-confidence.
She’d let her father take charge of the previous renovations because it had saved her a ton of money and it meant so much to him. Yet it had also made her uneasy...she was just too aware of how easy it was to start depending on someone else. Maybe some people were naturally stronger, but life had already shown how easily she could lose herself.
“I’m sure they’d want to help,” she admitted, “but they’re busy and I hate inconveniencing them.” She didn’t add that it might be impossible to stop them.
“But it’s good for the town, right? My mom mentioned this is the only bakery.”
“Yes. I always thought we needed one growing up. Even when I went to college I wanted to come back here and open this place. The plan was derailed because...er...that is, for a while, but not forgotten.”
Tyler’s eyebrows shot upward. “Why not start a chain? You could bake in a central factory and ship everything to the different sites. If you plan it right, there could be Sarah’s Sweet Treat outlets all over the Gold Country.”
“I’m not interested in factory baking, that’s why.” Sarah was annoyed, even though she hadn’t expected him to understand. “Maybe my dream isn’t as grand as being a famous architect, with clients who are desperate to have my name on their building, but I don’t want a business empire. I simply enjoy feeding people.”
Tyler’s face chilled. “Being able to call it a Prentiss building isn’t the only reason people want my designs. I’m good at what I do.”
Apparently she’d touched a nerve again.
“I’m sure you’re an excellent architect,” Sarah said, debating whether she should explain that she knew about the investigation in Illinois. No, she decided, taking another look at his arctic expression.
A gremlin inside of her wanted to goad him, but she didn’t think it was wise. It might be like catching a tiger by the tail—both hanging on and letting go would be equally dangerous.
“Then you’ll accept my professional assessment of your building,” Tyler said.
Sarah lifted her chin. The offer of free advice was tempting, but she didn’t want to be put under an obligation and couldn’t afford to hire him.
“I’m not helpless and I’m quite capable of taking care of it by myself,” she told Tyler. “I’m sure you have more important things to do with your time.”
“You don’t need to get huff—” Tyler stopped, apparently rethinking what he’d intended to say. “That is, I know you’re capable. But you aren’t an architect. I expect to be in Glimmer Creek until my mom and brother leave. Why don’t I take a look at the analysis from the building office when it comes, along with the blueprints for your building? I’d be happy to make recommendations.”
She knew quite well he’d started to say she was getting huffy and rolled her eyes. In her opinion, huffy was gender-specific. If she’d called him that, he would have felt his masculinity was being threatened. That was another point in Theo’s favor—he didn’t get in a tizzy about his manhood, though being a neutered cat, he might not feel he had that much to defend.
Sarah gave herself a shake. Her thoughts tended to drift when she was tired, and she still had to clear out the register and take care of a dozen other things before she could go home.
“That was sarcastic, not huffy,” she returned, and Tyler looked faintly embarrassed. “But I’m not making any decisions until I’m more rested and have done more evaluation of my own.”
“I understand. Maybe you can assist me in return.”
Sarah was instantly wary. “How?”
“I’ve contacted over a dozen general practitioners in Stockton to get an appointment for Nathan, but the earliest slot for a new patient isn’t for two or three weeks. Do you have any contacts who could help? Maybe someone in your family?”
“Go to the Glimmer Creek clinic. No appointment needed.”
“I noticed there was a clinic in town, but I’d prefer someone in private practice.”
Sarah gave him an exasperated look. “Give me a break. The GC clinic is brand-new and state-of-the-art. All of our medical professionals work out of it, but I’d recommend Dr. Romano for your brother. He was a reservist who served in the air force during the first Gulf War. Just call and ask when he’s there.”
Tyler nodded. “Okay. Do you mind if I wander around and take measurements, just in case you decide to accept my opinion on your renovations?” He pulled a tape measure from his pocket along with a small notebook.
“You brought a tape measure?”
“It’s a habit. If you don’t let me do some innocent checking, my mother’s feelings may be hurt. She really hopes I can come up with a solution for you.”
Invoking Rosemary’s feelings was dirty pool. “Fine. Do some measuring. Just stay out of everyone’s way. Would you like a cup of coffee before I empty the coffee makers?”
“Sure. Decaf if you have it, regular otherwise.”
Sarah poured him a large to-go cup of decaf and cleaned the coffee makers, then put the now day-old baked items into plastic bags.
“Don’t you have someone who can do that?” Tyler asked.
“Somebody comes later to clean, but we take care of the coffee machines immediately and bag the day-old items.”
“What about those?” He gestured to the loaves of bread she’d kept separate.
“They’ll be made into croutons. Croutons are popular in the shop, and we also use them for our restaurant and catering needs.”
Leaving Tyler to roam the building by himself, Sarah took the contents of the till back to the office and got it ready for the bank’s night drop box. The shift supervisor cosigned the slip, and Sarah sealed the deposit in a large envelope.
“Hey, guys, I’ll be right back,” she told the kitchen crew. They waved, used to her going to the bank each evening.
The swing shift was the smallest, except when they were catering a dinner. Luckily in Glimmer Creek, there were plenty of people willing to work on an as-needed basis.
Tyler was sitting at a table by the front window, pouring over figures in his notebook, presumably the measurements. She just couldn’t see what he hoped to do with them without knowing the proposed regulations.
“Um, are you done yet?” Sarah asked, wanting to push him out the door.
“I have a bit more to do. Your candy chef said she takes a break at eight, so I’m waiting till then to finish my measurements in the smaller kitchen.”
* * *
TYLER FOUGHT BACK a smile at the harried look on Sarah’s face. She hadn’t agreed to accept his advice, but the more she resisted, the more he wanted her to take it. The situation was unusual for him, to say the least. He was no longer accustomed to pursuing clients and certainly not to being turned down for a free consultation.
“Fine. I’m going to the bank with the night deposit.”
Sarah unlocked the door and went outside. Tyler found himself watching as she walked up the street, her hips swaying gently. The late sun glinted like platinum fire on her hair, and he shifted uneasily, more physically aware of her than he wanted to be.
As she turned to cross, a motorcycle came roaring up the street and veered toward her. Tyler jumped to his feet as the rider reached for the thick envelope she carried. The biker missed, but pushed Sarah hard enough that she went down.
Tyler ran outside as he dialed 911 on his cell. The emergency operator answered on the first ring.
“A motorcyclist just tried to rob Sarah Fullerton, half a block southeast from her business,” he said concisely. “Across from the bank. They hit her and drove off.”
“Yes, sir. Please stay on the phone while I dispatch officers to the scene.”
Sarah was sitting up when he got there, dazed, but still clutching the envelope.
“I’ve called the police,” Tyler explained, trying to determine if she was badly hurt. “Do you need an ambulance?”
“No, and I don’t need the police, either. It was just a motorcyclist who doesn’t know how to steer.”
“Somebody tried to rob you, Sarah,” he announced bluntly, anger burning through him. “I was watching, and there’s no question the biker was reaching for the envelope. He also struck you and left. That’s hit-and-run.”
A hum of agreement came from the onlookers who’d gathered.
Sarah tried to get up, and he insisted she stay put. “You need to be checked first.” Tyler heard a voice from his phone and put it to his ear. “Sorry, what was that?”
“I’ve dispatched paramedics, sir,” the dispatcher said. “May I have your name, phone number and address?”
Tyler was providing them as a police car and paramedic unit came screaming to a halt nearby.
Two uniformed officers and a paramedic team came over, and it was clear from the way they greeted Sarah that she was either family or a good friend. One officer started directing traffic while the second took a report, speaking to the different witnesses.
A third vehicle arrived, and a tall, solemn-looking man got out, striding over to Sarah. She was now sitting at the end of the paramedic vehicle while they treated an abrasion on her elbow. Though he wore plain clothes, he had a badge attached to his belt.
“Hey, coz, what happened?” he asked.
“A motorcyclist brushed against me and I got knocked over. I wouldn’t have even fallen if I hadn’t been off balance. Everyone is making too big of a deal about this, Zach.” Yet her voice had risen, suggesting she was more agitated than she wanted to let on.
“Somebody tried to snatch the bank deposit she was carrying,” Tyler interjected. “I saw it clearly.”
Sarah remained pale as he described the rider, which wouldn’t help with identification. Despite the warm day, the biker had been wearing a bulky jacket, gloves and helmet. Tyler couldn’t even confirm the person’s sex. On top of that, nobody had spotted any distinguishing insignia on the rider’s clothes or motorcycle.
“We have a bulletin out to watch for bikes of that description, but it’s probably long gone now,” Zach said.
The paramedics advised Sarah to see a doctor but didn’t think she needed to be transported to the local medical clinic.
“Hey, Millie,” she called, waving to a woman hovering at the edge of the crowd. Tyler recognized her as one of the cooks he’d seen working in the kitchen. “I’m all right and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Though Millie nodded and walked back toward Sarah’s Sweet Treats, it was clear that she’d rather stay. Frankly, Tyler thought they had too many onlookers. The officers seemed to agree because they were urging the crowd to disperse.
Sarah was keeping a death grip on the envelope and looked at Tyler blankly when he offered to put it in the bank’s night drop box, just a few feet from the paramedic’s vehicle.
“Oh. Yeah.” She glanced down, then held it out to him.
“Just a moment,” ordered Zach. “Sarah, how much cash is in there?”
“Twelve hundred seventy-two dollars and fifty-three cents. Also some local checks.”
“Who knew you were bringing the deposit down here?”
“Practically everyone knows I take care of it around the same time each evening.”
Zach looked exasperated. “Routines make you an easy target, Sarah. Until we get this sorted out, call the station and I’ll send an officer to escort you or come myself.”
“I really don’t think the rider was trying to steal it,” she protested.
“That’s your Pollyanna nature speaking. Witnesses say otherwise, and it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
Tyler took the envelope and dropped it in the deposit slot. If he’d thought a small town like Glimmer Creek couldn’t provide any excitement, he’d obviously been wrong. But this was one form of excitement he could do without.
CHAPTER FIVE (#u347fd3cf-8318-5e2e-85e4-6fa10251c84c)
SARAH WAS MORE SHAKEN than she wanted to let on in front of her cousin and Tyler Prentiss. She didn’t want to believe someone had been trying to rob her, but the scared part of her—the one that had been getting silent calls at night and a complaint called into the city—wasn’t so sure.
One minute she’d been enjoying the evening sunshine, and the next she was on the ground. Her arm hurt, and she suspected the rest of her body would protest once the shock had worn off.
Her own impressions of the motorcyclist were vague at best. She really hadn’t been paying attention.
Glimmer Creek was wary of motorcyclists. A few years ago, they’d had two biker gangs meet up in town and get into a fight, but Sarah had friends in Los Angeles who rode motorcycles and they were nice people. They just liked the freedom they felt on a bike. While some were more unconventional, that didn’t make them criminals.
“Shall I contact Kurt for you?” Zach asked, distracting her.
She shook her head. “I’ll talk to Dad myself. It would scare the heck out of him if you call, and I don’t need more drama tonight.”
“Okay. Who is this?” he queried, looking at Tyler.
“Tyler Prentiss. He’s staying at Poppy Gold, and his mother works for me. Tyler, this is Zach Williams, the Glimmer Creek police chief.”
Zach’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly as he shook hands with Tyler. He must have remembered Great-Uncle Milt saying that Tyler had caused a scene at the bakery.
“Hello, Mr. Prentiss,” Zach said coolly. “I don’t think Sarah mentioned that we’re related.” It was a not-so-subtle warning.
Tyler’s return smile was equally measured. “I figured it out when you called her coz.”
“Of course. Sarah, let me take you home,” Zach said after a final look at Tyler.
“Nonsense. My car is behind the shop, and I’m okay to drive.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Very well. Call if you need anything.”
Sarah was grateful when the officials and most of the onlookers had dispersed. She glanced at Tyler. “You’d better get going, too. I’m sure Rosemary wonders what’s kept you.”
“Mom knew I was coming here to discuss your building. She’ll be more concerned if I return too soon. Besides, I haven’t finished measuring.”
“Maybe another time,” Sarah said firmly. She wasn’t in the mood for dealing with anything but the necessities, and Tyler was far from a necessity. While he might be a great architect, she couldn’t afford him.
He shrugged. “I’ll still walk you back.”
It was just a short way and the same direction as Poppy Gold, so she didn’t object. But at the entrance of the shop she stuck up her chin. “Good night. Thanks for coming to help.”
She quickly slipped inside and locked the door behind her.
“Sarah?” Millie called from the kitchen.
“Yes, it’s me.” Sarah went in and tried not to appear as frazzled as she felt. “Can you handle everything? I want to go home for a hot bath.”
“No problem,” Millie assured her confidently. “You don’t have to stay every night. We know what to do.”
“I realize that. There’s just a lot of work.”
“And you have us to do it.”
Sarah didn’t need more convincing. She locked up the credit card receipts, grabbed her purse and went out the back door. Each business on the block had a rear parking area, a perfect spot for the electric food-delivery vehicles. All she’d needed to do was install a special station for overnight charging—with few exceptions, Poppy Gold didn’t allow modern gas-powered vehicles on-site.
Automatically, she plugged the catering vehicles into the charger, then got in her car and drove home.
Once inside with Theo on her lap, she started to call her father’s cell, only to remember he’d said he’d lost it. So she dialed his home number. It was unusual to get voice mail—he was the early-to-bed type—but easier, too.
“Hey, Dad,” she said brightly. “In case someone else calls and tells you about it, I wanted to let you know there was a minor incident on Mariposa Avenue this evening. A motorcyclist drove too close and I fell, but I’m perfectly all right. I’m home now and going to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.”
Sarah disconnected and dialed into her own voice mail. There were several silent messages. She deleted them one after another, her stomach churning.
Earlier in the day, she’d signed up for the national Do Not Call list. It would take a while for her number to be processed...but if the calls weren’t from a telemarketer, being on the list wouldn’t do any good.
Theo was still hungry for attention, so she cuddled him for another few minutes before opening a can of his favorite food and going upstairs for a bath. The water lapped around her, soothing her tired muscles, and she closed her eyes.
Abruptly the phone rang. She’d put the handset within arm’s reach—half expecting her dad to call—but the caller ID showed it was her cousin Tessa.
Sarah let out a sigh. Tessa had gotten married two years ago, so she generally didn’t phone this time of the evening unless it was related to Poppy Gold Inns and a catering need. Marriage changed people, but even having a baby hadn’t dulled Tessa’s determination to make the facility an even bigger success than her parents had already made it.
“Hey, Tessa,” she answered.
“Hi. Um, I just checked my email. We have a last-minute request to have a catered dinner on Saturday. It’s for that big family reunion—the one you’re doing a reception for tomorrow. I know it’s a lot to ask, but is there any chance you can accommodate them?”
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Julianna Morris
Driven to defend a woman who won't let him!Poppy Gold Inns should be the perfect place to relax, except architect Tyler Prentiss doesn’t do slow. He’s juggling his work long distance while looking after his brother, a wounded soldier battling PTSD. And figuring out how to make nice with Sarah Fullerton, his mother’s new boss. Helping the stubborn, sexy baker remodel her kitchens is a step in the right direction, he figures. And when someone begins harassing Sarah, he wants to do more, but the independent woman won't let him. Tyler knows all about needing space. She’s in danger, and so is he… of finally opening his heart.
Driven to defend a woman who won’t let him!
Poppy Gold Inns should be the perfect place to relax, except architect Tyler Prentiss doesn’t do slow. He’s juggling his work long-distance while looking after his brother, a wounded soldier battling PTSD. And he’s figuring out how to make nice with Sarah Fullerton, his mother’s new boss. Helping the stubborn, sexy baker remodel her kitchens is a step in the right direction, he figures. And when someone begins harassing Sarah, he wants to do more, but the independent woman won’t let him. Tyler knows all about needing space. She’s in danger, and so is he...of finally opening his heart.
“Do you still want to go for a drive?” Tyler asked.
“Not tonight.”
“Then how about me coming over tomorrow or the next day and looking at those blueprints?”
“Sure.” Sarah walked him to the door and was almost afraid to look out in case another gift bag had been left, which was absurd because the police had only departed a few minutes earlier. “Good night, Tyler.”
He hesitated, staring at her mouth.
Sarah gave it a brief moment of thought before rising on her toes and planting a thorough kiss on his lips. After all, there was no point in being coy, and it would be a much better ending to the evening than a creepy gift.
His arms went around her and he deepened the kiss. Every inch of her skin burned and the response from his body was unmistakable.
Dear Reader (#u347fd3cf-8318-5e2e-85e4-6fa10251c84c),
It probably isn’t a surprise that I enjoy writing about large families. (Was that a big “duh” I just heard?) Sarah Fullerton enjoys her many relatives in my third Poppy Gold story. She is open and loving, despite a bad marriage, and very busy running her dream business. I’ve paired Sarah with Tyler Prentiss, a man who struggles to be close to anyone, much less his own small family. Tyler has several concerns, including a grieving mother and a brother recovering from serious military-related injuries, but he can’t restrain his protective instincts when Sarah is threatened.
I hope to write more Poppy Gold stories in the future, as well as revisit the Hollister family from my series Those Hollister Boys. Lots of stories, just never enough time to tell them all!
Classic Movie Alert: share a smile with me by watching Bringing Up Baby, starring Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant. Cary is a paleontologist whose life is turned upside down by a madcap heiress and a leopard.
Please check out my Facebook page at Facebook.com/julianna.morris.author (https://Facebook.com/julianna.morris.author). Readers can also contact me at c/o Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, ON M3B 3K9, Canada.
Julianna Morris
Bachelor Protector
Julianna Morris
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
JULIANNA MORRIS isn’t crazy about housework, but she enjoys home canning because it connects her to the farming and pioneering roots of her ancestors. Of course, this conflicts with everything else she enjoys, including hiking, traveling, reading, painting and photography. But the way Julianna sees it, she’d rather have too much to do than too little. One thing is sure—she’ll never be bored!
In loving memory of Burt and Emily
Contents
Cover (#uea87da2e-2f15-5949-9917-d29b5dbc35b0)
Back Cover Text (#uce8038fc-4cab-5268-b56c-f7d071c74be2)
Introduction (#u5f129b29-c86a-5d25-83d9-c24a06f6acc4)
Dear Reader (#uab753c9e-cdbf-521a-be7b-c3b00efb9763)
Title Page (#u939e095d-be18-50e8-8f0d-014f2ce80bcb)
About the Author (#ube37016c-e0ce-5d7c-84d5-7265d251fc6f)
Dedication (#u6b4beddf-ef5c-5b5b-adcb-d9ac07405976)
PROLOGUE (#ue8b46b0d-10e8-59aa-9938-44d41d45b7d7)
CHAPTER ONE (#u43bca0e7-7b79-5dcb-967d-eb3499ac336c)
CHAPTER TWO (#ue34de6bc-7642-5e87-b82e-953b37335491)
CHAPTER THREE (#u92e2b5be-fbd6-52bc-bf84-d906b7f9249b)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u3374d2d6-1106-539b-8c5b-6432ad3e6f28)
CHAPTER FIVE (#u11352f9a-beda-5fe1-9366-c790125a9fcb)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
PROLOGUE (#u347fd3cf-8318-5e2e-85e4-6fa10251c84c)
SARAH FULLERTON PRESSED a finger to her forehead, trying to concentrate.
In the past four years, she’d gone from running a small sweet shop with two employees to overseeing a bakery and catering business with more than twenty employees. The front of the shop looked the same as before, but the operation behind it had become a monster.
A loud clatter out in the main kitchen made her jump.
“Sorry about that,” called Gabby Michaelson, one of the shift supervisors. “Just dropped some pans. No harm done.”
Except to my nerves, Sarah thought, pushing the order forms away. She’d hoped to finish her office work during regular hours, but it would have to wait.
Lately she’d begun to daydream about getting a full night’s sleep. While the business was booming, it was partly due to nepotism. The nearby Poppy Gold Bed and Breakfast Inns was owned by relatives, and they’d contracted with her to provide all the food needed at the facility. Now their kitchens were quiet most of the time and hers were insane.
Granted, things were crazier than normal right now because her aunt, who’d been helping to manage the shop, had recently broken her leg. It would get better when Aunt Babs came back. If she came back. She’d asked Sarah to look for a permanent replacement for her, but it wasn’t easy finding an experienced office manager in Glimmer Creek.
“Sarah, can you help Aurelia?” Gabby called. “With David out, she’s swamped. A bunch of customers just came in, and we’re filling éclairs for that special order.”
With a tired sigh, Sarah got up and went out front, a babble of voices greeting her from the waiting area.
Sarah’s Sweet Treats was on the edge of the Glimmer Creek historic district and the tour buses parked nearby, so they got groups coming and going. She usually had two employees at the counter, but David had called in sick and Aurelia was trying to handle everything herself.
“I’m sure you’ll love the fudge,” said a familiar voice. Sarah’s eyes widened—it was Rosemary Prentiss, a Poppy Gold Inns guest she’d talked with several times. “The cappuccino flavor is my favorite,” Rosemary continued. “I also love the banana muffins. They’re wonderfully moist and have chunks of dried apricot.”
“Those sound delicious, too. I’ll take four.”
Rosemary had been visiting the sweet shop for the past several days, sitting and drinking tea for extended periods. Now she was behind the display counters, boxing a selection of fudge and muffins. She handed the containers to Aurelia to ring up at the cash register and cheerfully greeted the next customers in line.
Once again she efficiently filled the order, her enticing descriptions of the baked goods convincing the older couple to order a dozen peanut butter cookies, a caramel apple pie and a pan of bread pudding.
Sarah shook off her surprise and stepped forward. “I can take over, Rosemary, but thanks for helping,” she said. “It’s awfully nice of you.”
Rosemary smiled. “I don’t mind staying. We’re doing fine. Aurelia is handling the cash register, and I can manage the rest. I’m sure you have other work to do.”
Aurelia Fullerton, one of Sarah’s many cousins, nodded fervently. “She’s a whiz, Sarah. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Uh, okay.”
Nonplussed, Sarah watched for another minute. Rosemary had explained she was staying at Poppy Gold with her youngest son, an Army captain who was recovering from a bomb blast in the Middle East. To give him time alone, she’d been exploring Glimmer Creek.
“Shoo, we’ve got everything under control,” Rosemary ordered, looking happier than Sarah had yet seen her. She’d seemed sad and lonely sitting at a corner table for hours, reading and drinking tea. When Sarah had said hello the first time, Rosemary had even anxiously asked if she was in the way.
Sarah gratefully retreated, thinking she would give Rosemary a gift certificate or selection of baked goods as a thank-you.
Sarah’s Sweet Treats had been a lot more fun before it expanded; Sarah wanted to be a baker, not a businesswoman, but she couldn’t let her cousin down—Tessa was the owner-manager of Poppy Gold Inns and had wanted to outsource their food needs. And the contract had helped pay off the debts from opening the shop.
Sarah was even starting to save for a rainy day. Sooner or later her frantic schedule would sort itself out, and she’d have more time for the things she loved.
In the smaller secondary kitchen, she began a batch of fudge. She had a swing-shift employee who made candy, but the fudge was a huge seller and they could always use more. Once she got a few of the standard batches made, she might experiment with a new flavor—chocolate, cinnamon and cayenne. Unique recipes were her specialty.
The familiar task was more soothing than office work, and soon she had several pans cooling on the candy rack, including her latest experiment. The challenge was making it zippy enough to wake up the taste buds but not too spicy.
Periodically she went out to check on Rosemary and Aurelia. Sales had remained brisk and she expected to find empty spaces in the display cases, but Rosemary had found time to restock them from the supplies in the back.
“Maybe I should put you on the payroll,” Sarah joked in a rare lull between customers.
“I’ve noticed your Help Wanted sign in the window. How about hiring me?” Rosemary asked, surprising Sarah. Rosemary dressed chicly and wore expensive jewelry. On top of that, Poppy Gold wasn’t cheap; this couldn’t be a woman who needed a job.
“What about your son?”
“He says he mostly needs peace and quiet and that I drive him crazy when I hover. So I could work afternoons to start and add mornings when he’s better.”
“I...sure,” Sarah said. “If you’re serious, I’ll get an application.”
Rosemary suddenly looked uneasy. “I’m quite serious. But I’ve never had a job, so I don’t have any references. I’ve managed numerous fund-raisers though, and I can give you names of people involved with them. I’m sure they’d vouch for me.”
“That’s fine. I mostly need to do a standard background check.”
Sarah went to get the application, unsure if she was batty or desperate. But Rosemary had already shown she was capable, and Sarah believed in listening to her instincts. The one time she hadn’t, she’d ended up married to a guy with the conscience of a snake.
As a matter of fact, her ex made snakes look good.
CHAPTER ONE (#u347fd3cf-8318-5e2e-85e4-6fa10251c84c)
TYLER PRENTISS WAS frustrated and worried.
His red-eye flight had been delayed coming into the Sacramento International Airport, and then the car rental company had lost his reservation. It took an hour before he was finally able to get a vehicle and head for the small town of Glimmer Creek.
He’d never visited California’s Gold Country and wouldn’t be going now if his mom and brother hadn’t lost their minds. The thought made Tyler wince. It was closer to the truth than he liked.
Rosemary Prentiss had almost suffered a breakdown after his father’s death a few months earlier, and now Tyler’s younger brother, Nathan, was struggling to recover from post-traumatic stress and injuries received while serving overseas.
The employee at the Poppy Gold Inns reservation desk directed him to the John Muir Cottage where his family was staying in the Yosemite suite. Nathan was sitting in a comfortable chair in the back garden, and Tyler’s gut tightened. It had been a month since they’d seen each other, but his brother’s face seemed as gaunt as before.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Nathan returned tonelessly.
“I was able to come home a few days early and went to the rehab center for a visit, only to learn you’d checked out. You didn’t mention it when I called.”
“I knew you’d do the big brother thing and try to stop me.”
“Yes, if you weren’t ready,” Tyler couldn’t keep from retorting. “I happen to know your doctor didn’t want you to leave. One of the patients at the center told me.”
Nathan made a rude gesture, which was completely out of character for him. “Screw doctors, I’m sick of ’em. When I said I was checking out of rehab no matter what, Mom got a referral or something to come here.”
Tyler looked around. “Where is Mom?”
“At a shop called Sarah’s Sweet Treats. I didn’t like her hanging over me, so she got a job there. Now she’s gone most of the day, except when she brings something for lunch and checks in on her breaks. It’s much calmer this way.”
A job?
Tyler stared. His mother had never worked in her life, and it seemed unlikely she was in any condition to start now considering how shaky she’d been when he’d left for Italy just a few weeks earlier. Lately she’d seemed a little better when he’d phoned, but still anxious and uncertain.
The guilt he felt for even going on the business trip returned full force, but what else could he have done after postponing it twice? He’d designed a private museum in Rome, and his contract required him to spend a certain amount of time on-site. While the clients were sympathetic and had agreed to a shorter period, they’d run out of patience when he’d tried to delay his visit another time. Then he’d needed to leave for a few days in the middle to fly to Illinois for an emergency.
“All day?” Tyler repeated. “As in full time?”
“I guess. The first day she was just gone in the afternoon, and then she asked if I minded her staying away longer. I was all for it. I’m sick of people fussing at me.”
It was hard for Tyler to picture their mother being able to focus on anything, much less stick to an eight-hour workday. Rosemary Prentiss was a Washington, DC, socialite—a sweet woman with a short attention span, flitting from one cause to the next. She’d never even balanced her own checkbook or paid a bill, leaving everything to her husband.
When Tyler’s father had died, Rosemary had fallen apart. She’d been so unstable, her doctor had considered hospitalization. Then Nathan had gotten injured in Iraq. Needing to concentrate on her son’s recuperation had forced her to set aside her grief for a while, but it didn’t mean she’d fully recovered, any more than Nathan had.
“I’ll go check on her,” Tyler said.
Nathan shrugged. “Are you staying?”
“If I can get a room.”
“No problem. There are two extra bedrooms in the suite. Mom asked for the largest space available, thinking it would be quieter. That’s one of the problems with the hospital and rehab center—it’s never really quiet.” Nathan put his head back and closed his eyes.
More concerned and frustrated than ever, Tyler looked up Sarah’s Sweet Treats on his phone and followed the directions. It occurred to him that he ought to think it through first, but instead he marched inside.
“I need to speak with Rosemary Prentiss,” he told the woman at the counter.
“Rosemary isn’t available right now.”
“She works here, doesn’t she?” The question came out harsher than he’d intended.
“Uh, yeah. Let me get the owner.”
She hurried into the back, and a minute later another woman appeared. There was a smudge of white on her right temple, and she was wiping her hands on a towel.
Tyler assessed her quickly. Young, probably no more than thirty. Beautiful. Pale blond hair in a French braid. Striking green eyes. She also had an enticing figure, discernible despite the spotless chef’s apron wrapped around her.
“Hello, I’m Sarah Fullerton. I own Sarah’s Sweet Treats. Can I help you?”
Tyler pushed his physical response to her aside.
“My name is Tyler Prentiss. I want to know what you were thinking, hiring a woman as fragile as my mother to work for you?”
* * *
SARAH BLINKED.
Rosemary...fragile?
Were they talking about the same person?
Over the past two weeks, Rosemary had saved her sanity. The woman was an organizational marvel, with a quiet way of stepping in wherever needed. While she hadn’t been paid to work before, she’d spent most of her adult life running massive charity events, blood donor drives and church bazaars. Apparently marshaling volunteers into line was excellent training for managing the chaos of a bakery-restaurant and catering business.
“I’m sorry, but my employees aren’t your concern,” Sarah replied carefully.
“They are if my mother is one of them. There are safety issues to consider, along with everything else. I don’t want her exhausting herself in a hot, crowded kitchen.”
Sarah glanced at Aurelia who was watching wide-eyed. Other customers also appeared to be watching with varying levels of interest.
“Let’s step outside,” Sarah said in a tight tone. She didn’t appreciate scenes, particularly in front of her patrons.
“Just tell me where my mother is and we’ll both get out of here.”
His arrogance took Sara’s breath away. “What are you going to do, issue an order and expect Rosemary to follow it?”
“I’m going to reason with her. You can’t possibly understand the situation.”
“I understand you’re a chauvinistic jackass—how’s that for a start?” she shot back, quickly losing the battle to control her temper. Rosemary had talked often about her son the architect, but she hadn’t mentioned he was utterly impossible.
“Sarah certainly has figured you out, my darling,” said Rosemary. She’d returned from a visit to the office supply store and was glaring at her son. Sarah was reminded of her iron-willed grandmother who’d helped raise her. Yet Rosemary’s expression softened when she gestured to the red scar at her son’s hairline.
“What happened? You didn’t tell me you’d had an accident.”
He snorted. “You didn’t say anything about coming to California, either. We’ve talked every day since I left, and the subject never came up?”
Rosemary turned pink. “I knew you were busy and didn’t want to distract you. How did you get hurt?”
“It isn’t important. I’m fine.” He lowered his voice. “Look, you have to realize your doctor wouldn’t approve of you working. And I know that Nathan checked out of rehab against medical advice. So let’s go back to the suite and pack your things. We can leave in the morning.”
Rosemary shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere, and I’m sure Nathan wants to stay, too. Besides, I have a job now. Responsibilities.”
“You aren’t strong enough to hold any sort of job, much less do the kind of labor this place must require.”
“What do you think I’m doing here, scrubbing floors with a rag and toting hundred-pound sacks of flour?”
“It doesn’t matter. Nathan needs to go back in rehab. That’s where he belongs, and I’m sure you want to be near him.”
“He wasn’t getting better in that place and wanted to leave.”
Sarah bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. The men in her family could be opinionated and old-fashioned, but Rosemary’s son made them look like models of modern thinking by comparison. Of course...Tyler Prentiss might have a point if his brother wasn’t following medical orders, but he wasn’t going to fix the situation by acting this way.
“Nathan needs professional care,” Tyler said. “I’ve got plane tickets for tomorrow. We’re going back to DC.”
Rosemary crossed her arms over her stomach. “Enjoy your flight.”
“I have tickets for all of us.”
Whoa.
Sarah had never seen someone actually talk between clenched teeth before, but Tyler Prentiss was doing a credible job of being rock-jawed and speaking at the same time. It was too bad to see so much striking masculine appeal wasted on a guy like him.
When she’d first seen him—before he’d opened his big mouth—she’d actually felt a flash of awareness. Tyler was tall and classically handsome, with a strong bone structure. Paired with his dark hair and cool brown eyes, she’d found him quite compelling...until he’d started talking.
Tyler turned and focused on her again. “Please understand, Ms. Fullerton, my mother’s doctor told her to avoid stress. She’s had a difficult time since my fath—”
“Richard Tyler Prentiss,” Rosemary interrupted. “This is my place of employment, so unless you’re going to buy some of the delicious goods we sell here, please leave.”
“Fine. We’ll talk later.” He stomped out the door with a grim expression.
As soon as he was gone, Rosemary began to deflate. “I’m sorry my son made a scene, Sarah. Tyler means well, and I’m sure he’ll regret this when he calms down. Please don’t fire me.”
“I don’t fire employees because their sons behave badly,” Sarah assured. “In fact, I’m promoting you to assistant manager. My aunt won’t mind. She’s been hoping I’d hire someone in her place. You can focus on the office, supplies and coordination the way you’ve been doing, and I’ll manage the kitchen.”
Rosemary beamed. “In that case, I’d better get busy.”
She hurried away and Sarah rolled her shoulders to relax them, but before she could return to her baking, Great-Uncle Milt arrived.
“I heard you had a disruptive customer and came to help,” he announced.
“Thanks, but everything has been resolved.” Sarah had to rise on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. He was extremely tall, with a shock of thick white hair and a pair of youthful blue eyes. Folks in Glimmer Creek referred to him as the Big Kid, though as Glimmer Creek’s recently retired police chief, he could be stern about the law. Not that he was completely retired. The town had given Great-Uncle Milt the title of Police Chief Emeritus at his retirement ceremony.
“What happened?”
She tugged him out to the front sidewalk and explained, not wanting Rosemary to hear the comments being made about her eldest son.
“I’ll check into this fellow,” Great-Uncle Milt declared when she finished, his eyebrows drawn together.
“It’s fine. I’m sure he won’t be a problem,” Sarah said, though she was still annoyed that Tyler Prentiss had tried to interfere. She’d like to give him a sharp kick in the rear.
“Nevertheless, I’ll talk to the new police chief about it,” Great-Uncle Milt insisted. “I won’t have some stranger upsetting things around here.”
“If it makes you feel better,” Sarah said, yet the corners of her mouth twitched. The “new” police chief was Zach Williams...Great-Uncle Milt’s grandson. Zach was her second cousin, though in Glimmer Creek family was family. Period. And in-laws were relatives the same as anybody else. Great-Uncle Milt just didn’t like emphasizing the connection in case folks thought his grandson had gotten the job because of the relationship.
Yet Sarah’s humor faded as she thought about her cousin’s wife. Gina had died from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy. Zach had never been the same.
It was worse to bury a spouse than get divorced, but at least he remembered his wife with love, instead of the loathing Sarah felt for Douglas.
* * *
TYLER PACED THE GARDEN around the John Muir Cottage until his brother barked at him to go away. Inside the large Victorian farmhouse, he couldn’t find an informational booklet, so he called the Poppy Gold registration desk to get the Wi-Fi password. He had to do something while waiting for his mother to return.
Did she really think sunshine and fresh air would be enough to help Nathan?
Tyler frowned as he worked at the table in the suite’s kitchen. When Nathan had been in the military hospital, he and his mother had taken shifts so someone would be with him around the clock. She stayed days, while Tyler had stayed nights.
He’d never forget the first time he’d seen Nathan in the throes of a violent nightmare...groaning, thrashing, striking out violently. Sometimes yelling, revealing hints of the horrors he’d lived through. Even his less-intense nightmares had been disturbing to witness.
After that, Tyler had done research on PTSD. Nightmares occurred in a fairly large percentage of cases, and since Nathan was an expert in hand-to-hand combat, it wasn’t safe to get near him while he was experiencing one.
The minutes passed slowly, and finally the side door off the utility room opened. His mother walked in, bright and chipper, though her cheery expression faltered when she looked at him.
“You owe Sarah an apology,” she said flatly. “And you owe me one, too. I can’t believe you’d embarrass me like that.”
“I can’t believe you and Nathan would fly to California without a word,” Tyler retorted. “Three months ago you were still so distraught about Dad that you asked me to postpone going to Rome a second time. You didn’t want me out of the area for even a few weeks.”
Rosemary raised her chin. “I just felt it was too soon after Nathan had gone into rehab and that you should be there. But yes, I was also still upset about your father. I’d lost my best friend and the love of my life. Can you blame me for not being able to handle it right away?”
Tyler frowned.
While he’d respected his father, the idea of his parents enjoying such a close relationship was a challenge. When would they have found time? Richard Prentiss had often worked ninety hours a week, though admittedly, some of his work had included schmoozing with clients, his wife at his side. He’d been a lawyer, greatly in demand. More than anything he’d wanted his sons to go into practice with him, but Tyler had wanted to be an architect and Nathan a soldier.
Still, Tyler was willing to believe his parents had been closer than he’d realized. It would certainly explain why his mom had fallen apart so badly.
“I’m not blaming you,” Tyler said carefully. “On the other hand, I don’t think getting a job on a whim is the answer. What are you planning to do, move here?”
“Perhaps. Glimmer Creek is a nice town.”
“I don’t think you’d like it for long. The nearest place to buy designer accessories has to be fifty miles away.”
“Is that what you really think of me?” Rosemary asked sadly. “I needed to dress a certain way because it was important to your father that I looked like a successful attorney’s wife, but I’ve never cared that much about stylish clothes and jewelry. I thought you understood.”
Tyler didn’t know what he understood. At the moment he was exhausted, jet-lagged and his career was on shaky ground. He supposed there was a certain truth to his mother’s claim, though. His parents’ social circle would have expected them to be perfectly dressed.
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m wearing sensible shoes.” Rosemary lifted a foot. “Kurt got them for me when he went shopping in Stockton.”
The comment went over Tyler’s head for an instant then he frowned. “Who’s Kurt?”
“Sarah’s father, Kurt Fullerton. He manages the Poppy Gold greenhouses and working gardens, but he also helps the bakery by shopping down in Stockton for specialty items. He’s a lovely man.”
The warmth in her voice made Tyler pause. “Are you dating him?”
It might explain a lot.
The disappointment in his mother’s eyes deepened. “Your father has only been gone for eight months. While some people are ready to move on that quickly, I’m not one of them. Kurt and I met two weeks ago at the bakery. Hard as it may be for you to understand, men and women can just be friends.”
Tyler worked with both men and women, but he couldn’t claim any of them as friends. He didn’t have that many friends, even from college. After he’d rejected law school, his father had refused to pay for his education. So Tyler had worked and borrowed his way through college, which hadn’t left time for socializing.
“I still don’t see why it’s so important for you to work,” he said. “If you want to get involved with something again, what about your causes back home? Surely they need you.”
“I’m needed here.” Rosemary’s face lit up. “I hear Nathan outside with Kurt. They often spend time together in the afternoon.”
“Maybe I should meet him.”
“Fine, but mind your manners. I’ll freshen up and be out in a minute.” She hurried upstairs.
Tyler’s head ached worse as he stepped into the garden and saw a burly fellow talking to his brother. This was the guy his mom called “a lovely man”? He certainly didn’t resemble the petite blonde at the sweet shop. Sarah Fullerton was slender with an elfin face, while her muscular father would look right at home in a Hells Angels jacket and straddling a Harley-Davidson.
Kurt and Nathan were deep in a debate about the merits of Humvees versus the earlier jeeps used by the military, and for the first time in months, Tyler saw animation in his brother’s face.
Fullerton looked up. “I’m guessing you’re the brother.”
Since he hadn’t said “chauvinistic jackass,” Kurt probably didn’t know what had happened at Sarah’s Sweet Treats.
“Tyler Prentiss.” He put his hand out, and Kurt shook it with the strangling grip of a wrestler. “It sounds as if you’ve been in the service.”
“I’m retired army.”
“Kurt was in Kosovo and did a couple of tours in the Middle East,” Nathan interjected. “He saw more than his share of action.”
The older man sighed heavily. “We’ve all seen too much.” He stood as Tyler’s mother came through the door. “Good afternoon, Rosemary.”
“Good afternoon.” She smiled and pointed to her feet. “The shoes you picked out are wonderful.”
Kurt Fullerton looked abashed. “I just got what Sarah told me was comfortable.”
Tyler stepped back and watched his mom chat with Kurt, trying to decide if there was an underlying thread of flirtation. Friendship was one thing, but he wanted to know a whole lot more about Fullerton if something serious was going on. After all, his mother was a financially comfortable widow who was shockingly naive for a woman her age.
Nathan had become quiet again, the hollow expression creeping back into his eyes.
Hellfire. Why had he become a soldier instead of something safer? Yet even as the thought crossed Tyler’s mind, an uneasy sensation followed. He’d defended Nathan’s decision to enlist, saying it had to be his choice.
“Sarah mentioned that you’ve been promoted,” Kurt said to Rosemary. “Assistant manager, no less. Not bad.”
Rosemary sent a smug look in her eldest son’s direction. “That’s right. I love working for your daughter.”
“She’s a good kid, all right.”
A promotion?
Pain pounded in Tyler’s head. This would make it even harder to convince his mother to leave. She might be doing all right at the moment, but her moods had been wildly erratic since being widowed. For a while she’d be like her old self, then something would happen and she’d fall apart. It seemed unlikely that she’d drastically improved in the few weeks he’d been gone.
Perhaps he should try enlisting Sarah Fullerton’s help rather than antagonizing her, though he wasn’t sure what she could do. But at least if she fully understood the situation, she might be more supportive.
Of course, first he’d have to convince her that he wasn’t the chauvinistic jackass she’d accused him of being. And since he’d not only stuck his foot in his mouth but jammed it all the way down his throat, it might take some doing.
* * *
SARAH SLID INTO her bathtub that evening, feeling utterly decadent. She hadn’t enjoyed a long soak since her business had gone crazy, but thanks to Rosemary Prentiss, she might be getting her life back.
Imagine, she’d actually gotten six hours of sleep the night before. Six. She might have gotten seven if her cat hadn’t demanded treats at 2:00 a.m.
She looked over and saw Theo’s whiskered face gazing at her from the basket of clean laundry she’d brought upstairs.
“Thanks, Theo, I really wanted to wash that stuff again.”
He yawned, stretched out his front legs and rested his chin on them, a vision of smug contentment.
Sarah smiled and closed her eyes, reveling in the warm water and silence. She loved her business, but it was no longer quiet there, day or night. The shop was open for customers nine to five thirty, but the kitchen operated twenty-four hours a day.
The phone rang abruptly, and Theo lifted his head with a reproachful meow.
She considered not answering since she’d been getting numerous calls from an “unavailable” number—mostly silent messages on her voice mail—and figured they were telemarketing robocalls. Then she realized it was almost nine, which was a little late.
“Sorry, toots.” She scrambled out of the tub and grabbed the receiver, shrugging into her robe. “Hello?”
Silence.
Irritation filled her. It probably was a robocaller, checking to see when she was home so a “live” telemarketer would know when to reach her. Still, silent calls made her uneasy. Her ex-husband had used them to check on her a dozen times a day, paranoid that she might be cheating.
What a joke. He’d been the one cheating. He’d also used other tricks to frighten and control her. It had taken a long time after the divorce to stop being afraid of every odd occurrence.
Sarah looked at the caller ID log and saw the number was shown as unavailable, just like all the other calls. With an effort, she pushed the thought away and looked at Theo.
“Come to bed,” she told him.
As a male companion, he lacked certain qualities, but he slept next to her every night instead of tomcatting around like her ex. Not that she’d stayed married after learning about Doug’s infidelity.
And Theo’s feline smugness was a whole lot more appealing than Tyler Prentiss’s arrogance.
Sarah got into her nightshirt and lay down, thinking about Rosemary’s eldest son. He might be sexy and gorgeous, but she’d learned all too well what a handsome face could hide. She hadn’t left her marriage hating men; she knew her ex was a selfish, narcissistic creep who didn’t represent men in general. But when she was ready for another relationship, it wouldn’t be with an uptight guy like Tyler Prentiss. When the time was right, she wanted to be with someone who was easygoing and open, with no hidden dark side.
After a long time, she finally drifted into sleep, only to be jerked awake when the phone rang again.
Heart pounding, Sarah glanced at the clock. It was after midnight. She then checked the display and saw the number was unavailable. It couldn’t be anybody from her family, so they couldn’t be phoning with an emergency.
Her finger hovered over the talk button. She really didn’t want to know if silence would greet her if she answered.
After the last ring, she pushed the phone under a pillow.
With an anxious cry, Theo cuddled up to her again, his velvety black fur making him virtually invisible in the darkness. He put his paws around her neck and licked her cheek.
“Hey, buddy,” she murmured, grateful for his comforting warmth. It seemed to take forever to calm down, no matter how firmly she told herself to not overreact.
But it was hard, and the minutes ticked by.
Finally she got up to dress and head for the shop. If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well bake.
CHAPTER TWO (#u347fd3cf-8318-5e2e-85e4-6fa10251c84c)
TYLER WOKE TO the chirp of birds outside his window. His family’s suite was in a sprawling Victorian farmhouse surrounded by gardens, a far cry from the modern monstrosity his father had built in DC.
Okay, that wasn’t fair.
The architect had probably hoped to create something different, but Richard Prentiss would have demanded a house designed for society entertaining, rather than comfortable living. Something that fit their affluent Foxhall Crescent neighborhood.
Tyler tucked his arm under his neck and wished the birds would go somewhere else. Ordinarily he adapted well to time changes, but sleep was difficult these days between concern for Nathan and his mother.
And then there was the other thing...
Pain shot through his head, though he didn’t know if it was from the injuries he’d gotten two weeks earlier or from memories that were too fresh and unresolved to let go.
He resolutely turned his thoughts back to his family. In DC, his mother had a social circle and familiar surroundings. For Nathan, there were therapists and doctors experienced at treating military-related injuries and PTSD. Even if Nathan didn’t return to rehab, home seemed better than a tiny tourist town on the opposite side of the country.
But when they’d talked the previous evening, Nathan had refused to leave Glimmer Creek. Maybe it was the lack of experienced doctors that he liked, because he wouldn’t have to answer uncomfortable questions.
But if both Nathan and Mom insisted on staying, Tyler would have to stay, as well. Among his other concerns, he didn’t think his mother should be alone with Nathan at night. She’d been warned by the doctors not to interfere if he was having a nightmare, but it was still a concern. Tyler also wanted to be there in case she had another emotional crisis.
At any rate, the last time he’d left, his family had traveled across the country, defying medical orders. Maybe he was a chauvinist, but this time he was staying put and keeping an eye on things. The plane tickets he’d bought would have to wait.
A light knock sounded, then Rosemary called, “I’m leaving for work. Breakfast is in the refrigerator—Poppy Gold has it delivered every morning. Be sure to eat something.”
He got up and opened the door. “I don’t need to be told to eat, Mom. I’m not a child.”
“You’re treating me like one. The way you acted yesterday was outrageous.”
Plainly, she hadn’t forgiven him. But he hadn’t forgiven himself, either, so it was understandable.
“I was tired and not thinking straight. I apologize.”
Rosemary looked him up and down. “I accept your apology, but it’s Sarah I’m thinking about. She works horribly long hours and doesn’t need that kind of trouble.”
Tyler let out a heavy breath. It felt as if his mother was more concerned about a stranger than her own son. “I’ll apologize to her, too, but right now we need to discuss going home.”
Rosemary checked her watch. “I told you there’s nothing to discuss, and I’m out of time. I don’t believe in being late for work.”
Tyler scowled as she left. Rosemary Prentiss had been raised in a comfortable, old-fashioned Boston household, the only child of older parents. They’d expected her to simply marry well and raise a family, so it was difficult to see her having any preconceived notions about employment.
Yawning, he trotted downstairs and found Nathan on the couch in the living room.
“Did you spend the night there?”
“Yeah.”
“I see. Have you had any nightmares since you got here?” Tyler asked, deciding he couldn’t pretend everything was normal. It wasn’t and might never be again.
“Most days, but not a bad one until the night before last. I get claustrophobic in my bedroom, so I’m going to start sleeping out here.”
Tyler doubted claustrophobia was responsible, but he didn’t say so. “The bedrooms upstairs are spacious.”
Nathan angrily slapped his injured leg. “Maybe, but it’s hard to get there. Besides, there’s less chance I’ll wake Mom if we’re on different floors. Not that I’m sleeping much at night.”
Tyler didn’t know if Nathan’s anger was a good sign or a problem. Surely it was healthier for Nathan to be outwardly angry than tearing himself up inside. Still, sleeping on the couch and wearing clothes that couldn’t have been changed in two days sounded like more than anger. Nathan had always dressed sharply, even when off duty.
“You’re analyzing, big brother,” Nathan said softly. “Stop or your head may explode.”
The comment made Tyler feel better. It was an old joke between them. Nathan always went with his gut. He was instinctive, popular with his peers, the life of every party. Tyler wasn’t. He thought everything out. Analyzed. One girlfriend had called him an ice man when they broke up—it was his only serious relationship, and it had affirmed he wasn’t cut out for commitment.
All of which made his behavior at Sarah’s Sweet Treats even more bizarre. He should have reasoned the situation through and chosen a more effective strategy instead of charging in the way he had. Some ice man.
He looked at Nathan. “My head is fine.”
“And you had to analyze your answer before giving it to me. Eat breakfast—you need brain food.”
Tyler went into the kitchen and helped himself from the containers in the refrigerator. He reheated the meal in the microwave, then sat down and ate a bite of the potato casserole. It was delicious, though he nearly choked when he realized the decorative logo on the containers was the same one he’d seen on the sign at Sarah’s Sweet Treats.
So the bakery was more than a bakery, fed hundreds of people each morning. His knowledge of restaurant operations was limited, but he knew it was a high-stress, competitive business.
How long could his mother handle it? The term “nervous breakdown” wasn’t used much anymore, but whatever it was called now, she’d come close to one after his father’s funeral. On top of everything else, she’d panicked at the thought of dealing with her finances. So Tyler had spent months sorting the tangle his father had left.
Fortunately there was more than enough money, despite his father’s unexpected taste for risky speculations. Now he mostly needed to review her accounts each month to be sure everything was in order and that the automated bill payments had gone through.
Back in the living room, Tyler found his brother staring at the ceiling again. It didn’t look as if he’d moved an inch.
“Do you want to eat, or should I get rid of the leftovers?”
“Get rid of them.”
Tyler tidied the kitchen before heading upstairs to shower and dress. In the bathroom, he took out his electric shaver and began running it over his jaw.
Perhaps he could invite Sarah Fullerton to lunch as an apology—be tactful and treat her the way he would a difficult client. If she understood how important it was, she might even encourage his mother to quit and return home with Nathan.
Tyler nodded at his reflection in the mirror. It wasn’t much of a plan, but at least it was something.
* * *
SARAH STARTED A batch of bread while the rest of her employees finished clearing up from the breakfast sprint. Preparing and delivering breakfast to Poppy Gold was always a tight operation. She was exhausted from lack of sleep and lingering tension but refused to slow down.
She’d just put eight pans of Nebraska oatmeal bread into the oven when Aurelia came in. “Uh, Sarah, that guy from yesterday is back,” she said in a low tone. “He wants to talk to you.”
Why couldn’t he leave her alone?
“All right, I’ll be there in a minute.”
Gabby took over while Sarah removed her apron. Tyler Prentiss was on the sidewalk, so she stepped outside. “Yes, Mr. Prentiss?”
He gave her a deliberate smile he probably thought was charming. “Please, it’s Tyler. I came to apologize. I’m sorry for the way I behaved yesterday. It was inappropriate. Normally I’m quite calm and controlled.”
“Okay,” she said cautiously.
“Please let me take you to lunch so that I can explain. I checked on restaurants in the area. The steakhouse sounds good.”
Sarah blinked. Why did he think she’d want to eat with him? “Uh...sorry, I don’t take long lunches.” Perhaps he didn’t understand the demands of her business. She might be the owner, but that meant she had even less free time than anyone else.
“Maybe we could discuss it now.”
She let out a breath. “I’ve accepted your apology, so there’s nothing to discuss.”
A hint of unidentifiable emotion flickered in his eyes. Today, at least, Tyler Prentiss was projecting the dark, brooding thing perfectly, giving the impression that something more intense was going on.
“That isn’t entirely the case,” he said politely. “You heard me talking with my mother yesterday, so you’re aware that my brother should still be in rehab. I was hoping that if you knew more about the situation, you’d help.”
Sarah cocked her head. “I don’t see how. Rosemary told me about Nathan’s injuries, but I’ve never met him. Oh, unless you’re thinking my dad could do something... I know he’s been spending time with your brother.”
“Actually, I hoped you’d urge Mom to go home. Then Nathan would go, as well.”
Sarah released an exasperated breath. “Doing that would make Rosemary believe I’m unhappy with her work, which isn’t the case.”
“Maybe, but why did you hire her in the first place?” Tyler asked. “Mom doesn’t have any experience. And promoting her so quickly?”
Sarah could barely control her irritation. Her ex-husband had made her feel as if she was incapable of making her own decisions, and she refused to let that happen again.
“I’m not going to justify myself. This is my shop. Your mom says you’re an architect. How would you like me to ask why you chose to put skylights or recycle chutes into one of your building designs?”
“It isn’t the same,” he returned in a clipped tone. She might have hit a nerve, though it was hard to tell with Tyler. He seemed to have no problem revealing anger, but his other emotions were much less clear.
“It’s exactly the same. That’s your business—this is mine,” she retorted.
Tyler’s brown eyes focused intensely on her, but she could tell little from his expression. “Fair enough. Look, I know my mother. She’s a lovely woman with good intentions, but she isn’t the nine-to-five type.”
“She’s working eight-to-four, though that’s beside the point. It’s up to Rosemary if she wants to return to the East Coast with your brother—I’m not going to manipulate her. And for your information, she asked for the job—I didn’t twist her arm to take it.”
“I’m sure you didn’t since she doesn’t have any qualifications,” he snapped.
No matter what Tyler seemed to think, Sarah wondered how well he actually knew his mother. Experience could be gained without a paycheck. From what Rosemary had said about her volunteer work, she had a huge amount of management experience.
Yet in a way, Tyler had a point. Rosemary was a visitor to Glimmer Creek, staying at Poppy Gold temporarily. She’d said nothing about moving permanently to California or whether she would leave when Nathan was ready.
Tyler cleared his throat. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. It’s just that I don’t know what to do. Nathan isn’t getting the care he needs and Mom is so annoyed with me, I doubt she’ll listen to anything I have to say for a while.”
Sarah suppressed a smile. The way he’d made the stiff, embarrassed admission was almost endearing; plainly he wasn’t comfortable relying on anyone else.
“You may be right,” she acknowledged. “But can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” Tyler said, seeming wary.
“Well, I get why Nathan might be better off in rehab, but what will you do if he keeps refusing?”
* * *
IT WAS A valid question, and Tyler wished he had an answer. Confiding in anyone was miles outside his comfort zone, but he might be forced into it. His mother and Nathan’s welfare were too important, and right now Sarah Fullerton seemed the most likely person who could help.
Yet before he could say anything else, Sarah stirred restlessly. “Sorry, but morning is my busiest period. I need to get back to my kitchen.”
Tyler let out a sigh of his own as she turned and disappeared into the bakery. He’d been right about her figure—without the chef’s apron, her body was a delectable balance of slim lines and curves.
He shook his head to clear it. Getting distracted by a beautiful woman was the last thing he needed.
Officially he was under investigation for a recent building collapse in the greater Chicago area, an incident that had injured five men. Prior to the start of construction, Milo Corbin, the owner, had demanded unsafe modifications to the plans. He’d grown so unreasonable that Tyler had resigned from the project. Changes had subsequently been made to his original design, but Corbin and the second architect were still trying to shift the blame to Tyler.
They wouldn’t be successful.
Tyler had gone over his original blueprints and knew they were sound. He’d also kept careful documentation about the alterations Corbin had wanted. Nonetheless, Tyler felt responsible. He should have done more to prevent construction from moving ahead.
Ironically, Corbin had promptly screamed for Tyler’s help after the collapse, so he’d flown to Illinois from Italy to spend a couple of days helping with the search-and-rescue efforts. After all, he’d studied the changes Corbin had wanted and predicted they’d lead to structural failure, so he was reasonably certain of where and how the damage had occurred. With the city engineer out of town, Tyler had even signed a waiver and gone into the building to advise on the safest way to extract trapped workers.
What he didn’t understand was why a particular concrete wall hadn’t held. The thing had crumbled unexpectedly, bringing debris down on him and one of the firemen. Though injured, Tyler had pocketed a chunk of the concrete for later analysis. He’d given it to the lawyers he’d hired in Illinois.
Lawyers.
Tyler was struck by the irony. He’d never been interested in his father’s work, and now he was relying on a bulldog Chicago law firm to protect him.
But no matter what happened, nothing would take away the pain those construction workers had suffered or the fear their families had experienced as they’d waited for them to be found.
CHAPTER THREE (#u347fd3cf-8318-5e2e-85e4-6fa10251c84c)
WHEN TYLER GOT BACK to the suite, he was relieved to see his brother had changed his clothes and was out in the garden.
Needing to accomplish something, he went inside and rang the rehab center to request recommendations for Nathan’s treatment.
“I can give information to your brother, but not to you. Privacy laws are very strict,” Dr. Chin explained.
Tyler gritted his teeth. “But you have talked to me, a dozen or more times since he went into rehab.”
“Yes, but the release he signed has expired. Is Nathan there? He could give me permission. At the very least, I’d like to know how he’s doing.”
“Just a moment.” Tyler went into the garden and held the phone out to his brother. “Dr. Chin would like to speak with you.”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
“He’s concerned about your health,” Tyler said tightly. “And he left a staff meeting to take my call. Please do him the courtesy of listening to what he has to say.”
Nathan simply hunched his shoulders.
Tyler put the phone to his ear again. “I’m sorry, Doctor, my brother is being a jackass.” Even as he said it, he remembered Sarah calling him the same thing.
Damnation, how had she gotten into his head?
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dr. Chin said. “I’ve been thinking, if you can’t convince him to return, perhaps I...um, can send you some general recommendations. Ones that could apply to most of the recovering soldiers I’ve treated.”
A faint sense of relief went through Tyler. He still thought Nathan should be getting twenty-four-hour care and the doctor appeared to agree, but any guidance would help. “I’d appreciate whatever you can give me.” He provided his email address and disconnected, promising to call again if Nathan’s condition worsened.
Tyler dropped the phone in his pocket. If he thought confronting his brother would do any good, he’d confront him. But he suspected it wouldn’t, so he asked Nathan to take a walk with him instead. The idea was met with indifference and finally refusal. After that, Tyler suggested a game of chess. Nathan still wasn’t interested.
Finally Tyler sat in a nearby chair and put a stern, I-mean-business expression on his face. “Have you seen a doctor since coming to Glimmer Creek?”
Nathan gave him a dirty look. “No. I’m tired of doctors.”
“I don’t blame you, but I need to know what therapy program you’re supposed to be following and any other information you and Mom have left out. How about that medication they were giving you for the nightmares? Don’t you need refills?”
His brother shrugged. “It wasn’t helping, so I stopped taking it. Anyway, I can’t talk now. Kurt is showing me the Poppy Gold greenhouses today. I have to find out when he’s coming.”
Nathan got out his own phone but was obviously waiting for Tyler to leave before making the call.
Tyler finally went inside, hoping it was a good sign that his brother was carrying his cell. In the hospital and rehab center, Nathan had resisted being in contact with friends or hearing about the affairs of the world. Their mother had been the same, which was why Tyler had figured neither of them would have heard about the incident in Illinois. It helped that this sort of story, without any fatalities, usually wasn’t in the news for long. And as it turned out, they also must have been busy getting settled into Poppy Gold.
Tyler massaged the muscles at the back of his neck. The past two weeks had been rough. After being treated for his injuries, he’d returned to Italy and finished his work there, only to fly home and discover his family was gone.
But at least he’d broached the subject of medical care with Nathan, however unproductive the conversation had been. Perhaps they could talk about it as a family and figure out what they were planning from here...because he suspected they weren’t going back to the East Coast any time soon.
* * *
KURT FULLERTON PARKED behind his daughter’s catering business for his usual midmorning check to see if she needed anything.
“Hey, Dad,” Sarah called as he came through the back door. He’d been there earlier, and she still looked so pale and tense that he frowned.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Just busy.”
Kurt wasn’t sure. Something told him something was going on, but she probably wasn’t going to tell him; she’d inherited his ex-wife’s slender grace and his pigheaded nature.
Wanting to taking care of his daughter was a tough habit to kick, especially since he hadn’t been around much in her early years. After his wife had run off with another man, he’d brought Sarah home to his parents, convinced that caring for a toddler on an army base was impossible for a single father.
Now he knew that he’d given up too easily. Lizzie’s actions had embittered him, and for a while he’d become the hardest-living son of a gun in the army. Instead he should have done his best to be a good dad.
“You hardly ever let me do anything to help around here,” he complained.
“That isn’t true,” Sarah shot back. “You shop for me every week, and you’re always finding something else to do. And that isn’t even counting all the work you did remodeling the two kitchens. Twice.”
“That’s nothing. I like being involved and knowing what’s going on.”
Kurt just wished he’d known more about Sarah’s troubles with her louse of a husband.
A timer buzzed and Sarah hurried to remove loaves of bread from the ovens.
Kurt went to the front counter and got a cup of joe, then ambled down the short hallway to the office to visit with Rosemary.
“Good morning, Kurt. Don’t you want something to go with your coffee?” she asked. “Sarah made poppy-seed muffins earlier. I’ve never seen anyone get as much done as she does.”
“That’s my girl. But I’d better not indulge, I already had her egg and ham pie when I brought over a batch of green onions from the greenhouse.” He patted his stomach.
* * *
ROSEMARY TRIED NOT to laugh. Sarah had confided that her father, along with the rest of the male half of Glimmer Creek, wouldn’t eat anything called quiche, so she’d put a puff pastry crust on top and called it egg pie.
“Working here is terrible for the waistline,” Rosemary admitted. “I haven’t tasted a single thing that isn’t delicious.”
“You’ve got a long way to go before you need to worry about your waistline,” Kurt assured her. “Me, I’ve got a linebacker build, unlike my brothers. I’m glad Sarah didn’t get my shape.”
Kurt’s large family intrigued Rosemary. Nine siblings, and most of them had several children, as well. It was sad that he’d never found someone else after his divorce, but she understood how difficult it was to risk loving again. After all, while her husband’s death had been devastating, the grief had also renewed an old, wrenching sorrow...the loss of her first child.
One-year-old Kittie had been the light of their lives. Bright and full of fun, she’d brought joy to everyone. It was only after her death from spinal meningitis that they’d moved to Washington, DC, and Richard’s dedication to his career had turned into an obsession. Rosemary hadn’t handled the loss any better; she’d dived into fund-raising for nonprofit organizations. They’d even decided not to have more children, only to discover Tyler was on the way.
“Sarah has your eyes,” Rosemary said, hoping her voice wouldn’t break. It wasn’t that she loved Tyler and Nathan any less, but it was wrenching to remember her daughter.
“Except they’re pretty on Sarah.” He grinned and drank a gulp of coffee.
Rosemary thought Kurt’s eyes were nice on him, too. He was an attractive man, not classically handsome like her husband had been, but good-looking, with a reassuring manner.
“Do you ever think about grandchildren?” she asked wistfully. A year earlier, she’d had high hopes of becoming a grandmother. Nathan had been engaged and looking forward to fatherhood, then his fiancée had decided she couldn’t handle being a soldier’s wife.
“I’d love them,” Kurt said, “but Sarah’s marriage was pretty bad. I don’t know when she’ll be ready.” He finished his coffee and got up. “Better get going. I wouldn’t want my daughter to think I’m interfering with your work.”
After a moment, Rosemary heard him in the kitchen saying goodbye to Sarah. She envied their close relationship. She’d seen it from her first day at the bakery when Kurt had delivered a load of supplies.
A thoroughly nice man, Rosemary had concluded after watching father and daughter together. She was glad for them, but it was a reminder that she didn’t have a similar relationship with her own children.
Maybe that was why she’d gone along when Nathan insisted on leaving the rehab hospital...because she’d hoped it might bring them closer.
* * *
GREAT-UNCLE MILT came into the shop to see Sarah shortly before the lunch-hour rush.
“Hey, Uncle Milt, how about a sandwich?” Sarah nodded to Aurelia, who began packing his favorite meal into a bag.
“I should say no, but I won’t. Just put it on my account. I mostly came to tell you about that fellow from yesterday.”
“Oh?” Sarah said cautiously, hoping he didn’t know Tyler had shown up again. “Let’s go for a walk.”
Aurelia handed Great-Uncle Milt his lunch, and they headed down the street.
“I spoke to Zach and he did a standard background check at the police station,” Great-Uncle Milt explained as they strolled toward the city park. “It turns out Tyler Prentiss is connected to an investigation in the Chicago area.”
Sarah nearly tripped. She didn’t have a high opinion of Rosemary’s eldest son, but she didn’t think he was a criminal.
“What sort of investigation?”
“Earlier in July a building under construction collapsed and injured several workers. Prentiss was the original architect, though another architect took over the project in February and made changes. Nonetheless, the owner is blaming Mr. Prentiss. The investigation could take months to resolve.”
Sarah wasn’t surprised that Rosemary had been silent about the incident; it wasn’t something you’d casually discuss. “It doesn’t sound as if he could be responsible if changes were made to his original design.”
“I realize that, and Prentiss’s work is highly regarded, which I’m sure the authorities are keeping in mind. Other than this, his record is spotless. Not even a speeding ticket.”
“I appreciate the update.”
Sarah wasn’t sure what to make of Great-Uncle Milt’s revelation, though it actually made her feel more sympathetic toward Tyler. She knew what it was like to be to be exhausted and not thinking straight.
Within just a few months, his father had died and his brother had been seriously injured, and now his career was under siege. What did they say about trouble coming in threes?
Rosemary had talked often about her sons since starting to work at the bakery, and a picture of Tyler had emerged as an extremely cool and measured man.
Sarah had begun to think of him almost as a hermit crab, toting around an oversize shell into which he could withdraw. The mental image still fit what she’d seen of his personality—except for the bad temper he’d shown—but she hadn’t expected his “shell” to be so...mouthwatering.
With a sigh, Sarah glanced at the clock tower on City Hall. “Sorry, Uncle Milt, but I have to scoot,” she said. “See you on Sunday.”
Sarah hurried back toward the sweet shop, and as bad luck would have it, ran into Tyler Prentiss going into the newly relocated Valentino’s Pizza Pizzazz. In such a small town, encounters were to be expected. She just wished it could have happened on a different day.
He gave her an inquiring look. “I thought you weren’t taking lunch.”
“I don’t take long lunches, though in this case I was discussing something with a relative, not eating.” Sarah resisted the temptation to say she had the right to do whatever she wanted, regardless of what she’d told him. “Uncle Milt is the former Glimmer Creek police chief.”
Tyler’s expression didn’t change. “Mom mentioned you have family in the area.”
“That’s right.”
Grandma Margaret called their family an embarrassment of riches. Sarah thought that was apt. She was fortunate to have so many people who cared about her.
Of course, she hadn’t always felt lucky when she was a teenager and couldn’t get away with a tiny bit of rebellion—too many relatives to see it.
Being a little wild might have been fun, and maybe she wouldn’t have made such a huge mistake with her ex-husband if she’d been able to learn from smaller mistakes as a teen.
“Is something wrong?” Tyler prompted.
“Nope. I understand you don’t have any extended family yourself.”
“It’s just the three of us now.”
Sarah couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have so few relatives. Sometimes it seemed as if everyone in Glimmer Creek was related to her in one way or another.
“I’m sorry about your dad,” she said, unsure if she should say anything at all. Some people didn’t want to be reminded of someone they’d lost.
A mask seemed to come over Tyler’s face. “Thank you. He was a great lawyer. Tops in the DC area.”
“Oh. That’s nice.”
Despite her comment, she was puzzled. If she’d lost her father, even sympathy from a stranger would have made her declare how special and wonderful he was. Calling him a brave soldier or gifted horticulturist would only have occurred to her later.
She squared her shoulders. “Well, I won’t keep you.”
Sarah headed down the passageway between the sweet shop and the pizza parlor to go in through the back entrance. The front of the bakery was so crowded that there was a line out the door, extending down the street.
Yet a part of her mind wasn’t thinking about the shop and everything that needed doing... It was thinking about Tyler Prentiss and the closed-off look in his eyes when he’d talked about his father.
* * *
SHORTLY AFTER THE lunch rush, Sarah was putting the final touches on a batch of wild blackberry tarts when Rosemary came into the kitchen.
“Sarah, there’s a Mr. Seibert on the line for you, from City Hall.”
Sarah hurried into the office and picked up the receiver. “Hey, Stephen.” She didn’t know him professionally—he’d started working for the city after the various renovations had been completed on her business—but they’d met at a few community events.
“Hello, Sarah. I...um... I’m sorry, but I need to schedule an inspection,” he said hesitantly.
“Sure, but we don’t have any remodeling planned.”
Stephen cleared his throat. “Actually, I received a complaint saying your facility might not meet building codes for the number of employees. Also that the air-conditioning might not be up to par.”
“A complaint?” Sarah tried not to react as she recalled Tyler saying he didn’t want his mother in a hot, crowded kitchen. “From who?”
“It was anonymous. These things usually are, and they’re usually a bunch of nonsense, but I still need to check. It’s standard city protocol.”
“Okay. Do you want to come today?”
“Tomorrow is fine. How about 2:00 p.m.? I’ll also have to see your work schedules to know how many employees are present at any given time.”
“Whatever you need.”
Sarah got off and tried keep the frustration from showing on her face.
“Is there a problem?” Rosemary asked worriedly.
“No, the city just does inspections now and then.”
“I heard you mention a complaint. Who would complain? Everybody is so happy here.”
Sarah shrugged. “Stephen doesn’t know—it was anonymous. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.”
On reflection, an anonymous complaint didn’t sound like Tyler Prentiss. Of course, she couldn’t think of anyone else it could be, either, though the memory of the silent calls she’d been having popped into her mind.
Don’t be paranoid, Sarah ordered. It was unlikely the two problems were connected.
“I heard Tyler dropped by this morning,” Rosemary said, still looking upset.
“Yes, he apologized.”
Rosemary brightened. “I’m glad to hear that. He means well, but he’s protective. The truth is, I was a complete mess after Richard died. I’d let my husband handle all our personal affairs and wasn’t the least prepared when...” She swallowed. “Richard died of a massive stroke. He was older than me and should have retired years ago, but nothing could make him slow down.”
“It must have been a shock.”
“He simply wouldn’t take care of himself. But I shouldn’t keep you—you have enough to do.”
Sarah smiled. She didn’t mind the moments that she and Rosemary got to talking. Thanks to the older woman’s ability to manage the business end of the sweet shop, she was getting more time to do what she loved most.
“Actually, I’m going to finish my blackberry tarts, then go home and take a nap,” she explained. “I’ll come back later to make fudge.” Her candy chef had asked for an extra day off this week, and she didn’t want to run low.
In the kitchen, Sarah found someone else had finished the tarts, so she gratefully left. At the house, she set the alarm and unplugged her landline before lying down. Theo delightedly jumped up with her and settled down, purring.
“Hey, baby.”
It was crazy to feel edgy, even though she knew it was unlikely that anything weird was going on, but it still took time to drop off. The question kept revolving in her head—who could have complained? She easily met the county’s guidelines for commercial kitchens.
Finally she began counting black cats in her head. Happy, playful black cats, and with Theo leaning against her shoulder, she drifted to sleep.
* * *
ROSEMARY WAS DISAPPOINTED she didn’t find Nathan in the garden when she got home. She’d brought him a sandwich and salad at lunchtime, but he’d said Tyler was getting pizza so the food had gone into the refrigerator.
Nathan wasn’t in the living room or his bedroom.
“Is that you, Mom?” called Tyler.
“Yes.” She hurried out from Nathan’s room. “Where is your brother?”
“Didn’t he tell you? Mr. Fullerton took him to see the Poppy Gold greenhouses. I think they’re spending the afternoon together.”
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot.” Flustered, Rosemary put the kettle on for tea. “I heard you apologized to Sarah,” she said finally.
“I asked her to lunch, but she didn’t have time.”
“She’s always busy. Tomorrow will be especially hectic since she, um, got a call this afternoon from the city.”
A thought had been nagging her...that Tyler might have made the complaint. It was dreadful to think he could do something like that, but she also knew he was unhappy about her job.
“Apparently someone made an anonymous complaint,” she continued. “It’s terrible that Sarah has to take time to deal with something like this. I can’t imagine her violating any rules.”
“Then the inspection shouldn’t be a problem.” Tyler’s expression didn’t reveal much. You’d think as his mother she’d be able to read more in his face, but it was no easier now than when he’d been a child. So unless she asked outright, she wasn’t going to discover whether he was responsible. Surely not, though.
“What else did Sarah say?” Tyler prompted, breaking into her thoughts.
“Nothing. I’m just concerned about her.”
“She isn’t your daughter.”
“I realize that,” Rosemary returned sharply, though she knew her son wasn’t trying to be cruel. He didn’t know about his sister. Richard had insisted they never talk about Kittie, and since they’d moved to the DC area after her death, their new social circle hadn’t known about her, either.
Would it upset Tyler and Nathan to learn that an important part of their family history had never been discussed, or would it help them understand their father a little better?
* * *
TYLER SUSPECTED HIS MOTHER wondered if he’d made the call, but the idea was offensive. It would have been purely to harass Sarah, and he’d never do that.
“The complaint must be a misunderstanding,” he said.
“Of course. But it will take time to resolve, and Sarah already works appalling hours. Even worse than you, I think.”
He didn’t think his work hours were appalling, certainly no longer than his father’s. Richard had rarely been at home when his sons were awake. Tyler hadn’t faulted his dad for being a dedicated lawyer, but why have kids if he didn’t like them? Just to have someone carry on the family name and follow in his footsteps?
Tyler didn’t feel the need for children, and since his work took him all over the world, it wouldn’t be fair to a family for him to be gone weeks or months at a stretch.
Frankly, he didn’t intend to change.
He liked going full tilt. He wanted to leave his mark on the world by designing memorable buildings, not by passing on his genes.
“I’m sure Sarah will manage,” Tyler said. “Besides, how long could it take? She doesn’t need to go around with the inspector, just talk with him afterward.”
His mother simply shook her head and walked upstairs.
Outside, Tyler saw his brother return with Kurt Fullerton and sit on the garden chairs, talking. It still amazed Tyler that Sarah was Kurt’s daughter. While she had his green eyes, she was delicate and slim, with none of his square solidity.
Tyler stepped onto the porch, only to decide against joining the other two men. Instead he went for a walk around Poppy Gold. While he wasn’t a huge fan of Victorian architecture, the place projected an air of gracious elegance. An hour later, he returned to the suite and found his mother talking to a man on the porch.
“I’m so sorry,” she was saying, visibly distressed. “Maybe they can put it on my account here at Poppy Gold.”
“What’s wrong?” Tyler asked.
“I ordered food, but can’t find my purse.”
“No problem.” He took out his wallet and turned to the deliveryman. “How much do we owe you?”
“Forty-eight even.”
Tyler extracted three twenties and held them out. “Keep the change. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
“Thank you, sir.”
His mother’s cheeks were pink as he carried the bags of food into the kitchen and put them on the breakfast table.
“I must have left my purse at work,” she said. “I’ll get it after dinner.”
“Isn’t it safe to leave in the office?”
“Of course it’s safe. Someone is always at the shop, but I keep my blood pressure medicine in there. I’ll need that tonight. And I...well, I keep your father’s wallet in there. I like having it nearby.”
“I’ll go now. You and Nathan start eating without me.”
Tyler didn’t wait for her to agree. After losing his father to a stroke, he wasn’t taking any chances with his mother’s medication. The door was locked at Sarah’s Sweet Treats, but he knocked until an employee came out from the back.
“I’m sorry, we’re closed,” the woman called pleasantly.
“My mother works here. Rosemary Prentiss. She left her purse and needs it.”
“Just a minute, I’ll let Sarah know.”
She disappeared. A few minutes passed and Tyler wondered if he’d been forgotten, then Sarah came out and unlocked the door. She looked more rested than she had earlier, though still on edge.
“We keep running into each other,” she said, stepping aside to let him enter and then locking the door again.
“Sorry for the inconvenience. Mom forgot her purse in the office.”
“That’s what Katie said. I phoned Rosemary, and she said it was okay to let you take it.”
“Sarah,” called a frantic voice. “I keep stirring this, but I don’t know what else to do.”
Sarah raced to the back of the shop. Tyler followed her through a bright kitchen filled with stainless steel appliances to one that was smaller but no less tidy. She was already at one of the stoves, stirring the contents of a large pot.
Chocolate, he realized. Obviously he’d come at an inconvenient time, though he wondered if there was ever a convenient time with Sarah.
She checked a large thermometer and gave the mixture an extra stir before pouring it into a rectangular pan.
“It’s fudge,” Sarah explained, casting him a glance.
“Do you make all the candy you sell?”
“It’s all made here, yes. But I have an employee who does most of it. She’s taking a personal day, so I’m filling in. Usually I focus on developing new recipes. Tonight I may experiment with lemon meringue fudge.”
Tyler frowned. “Fudge is supposed to be chocolate.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Not the way I make it. Do you like cappuccino?”
“I suppose.”
“Then come with me.”
Sarah returned to the front of the bakery and turned on the lights in a display case. She cut a piece from a cream-colored slab and gave it to him on a napkin. “This is my cappuccino fudge.”
He took a bite and the rich essence of coffee and cinnamon rolled across his tongue. Though he wasn’t big on candy, he was disappointed when the last of it was gone. “That’s pretty good,” he admitted. “I concede that fudge doesn’t have to be chocolate.”
She served him another couple of samples, including one named Hogwarts Special.
“Hogwarts Special?” Tyler echoed.
“For the Harry Potter fans. The books talk about pumpkin juice, but this is mostly pumpkin spice. I haven’t managed to get more than a mild pumpkin flavor in the fudge. Blackberry is easier because the berries are so tangy.”
Sarah was clearly enthused about her creations, enough to indulge even him with samples when he must have been a thorn in her side for their entire acquaintance. Yet a thought kept tapping in the back of Tyler’s brain...was she being nice because she thought he’d made the anonymous complaint?
She couldn’t be worried about passing an inspection. From what he’d seen, both of her kitchens were modern, spotless and pleasant places to work.
“I don’t cook and I’ve never met anyone who invented recipes,” he said, genuinely curious about the process. As a kid, his mom had hired a chef or a caterer, and he’d relied mostly on restaurants as an adult.
“Chefs and bakers invent recipes all the time. I’ll get Rosemary’s purse.”
Sarah left and returned a minute later. She put the purse inside one of the Sweet Treat’s shopping bags before handing it to him, probably assuming he wouldn’t want to walk back through Poppy Gold carrying a woman’s handbag. It was true. While he didn’t think he was irredeemably chauvinistic, he also wasn’t exactly enlightened, either.
CHAPTER FOUR (#u347fd3cf-8318-5e2e-85e4-6fa10251c84c)
BACK AT THE SUITE, Tyler found his mother had kept the food warm so they could eat together. It was an awkward meal that might have gone better if family dinners had been a Prentiss tradition. But even on holidays, his parents had attended social events.
After they finished eating, he cleared his throat.
“Nathan, as you know, I talked to Dr. Chin at the rehab center today. He’s sending recommendations for you to follow while you’re here in California. Since Mom has a job, I’ll be taking you to your appointments. Unless you decide to return to rehab, that is.”
His brother glared. “That isn’t happening. And I don’t need his recommendations. I’m doing fine. As for appointments, if I never see another doctor, I’ll be happy.”
Rosemary straightened. “That isn’t what we agreed to when you wanted to leave the rehab center. I’ve let it go longer than I intended, but don’t think I’ve forgotten.”
It was nice to see she hadn’t completely lost touch with reality. Tyler had envisioned her believing that love and sunshine would be enough to resolve Nathan’s PTSD and restore him physically. While it might be possible, he’d do a whole lot better with treatment.
Tyler leaned forward. “I don’t suppose a tiny town like Glimmer Creek has many medical services. We’ll probably have to drive to the nearest city for doctors and therapy.”
His brother looked ready to argue, so Tyler fixed him with a hard stare. “In the hospital, you told me you wanted to go back on active duty. That isn’t likely to happen without therapy. Or have you decided to leave the service?”
Resentment flickered in Nathan’s eyes. “I don’t want a medical discharge. The army is going to do a medical review in a few months to determine my fitness.”
Tyler ached, suspecting Nathan questioned whether he could pass the review. Maybe he couldn’t. Maybe he no longer wanted to return to active duty—after his personal tour of hell, nobody would blame him for deciding he’d had enough.
“We don’t have to talk about this now, do we?” their mother asked in a shaky voice, and Tyler looked at her sharply. Her eyes were wide and her cheeks were pale.
“No,” he and his brother said in unison. Taking care of her was an old habit.
Nathan put his hand over hers. “It’s okay, Mom, I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”
“You’re entitled.”
“Naw, but don’t worry, I’ll see a doctor. Right now I’m tired, so I’m going to lie down.”
She smiled shakily. “Is there anything I can get you?”
Nathan shook his head and limped out of the kitchen.
Tyler turned to his mother.
“Did you have to mention him going back on active duty?” she asked tearfully. “He’s sacrificed enough.”
“It’s important. Nathan has to want to get better. Deciding what he wants and how to get it will motivate him.”
“I realize that. And I’m sorry I didn’t get him to a doctor earlier. He’s just so much calmer here, and I wanted to give him time. Besides, Kurt is good for him. They’ve shared a lot of the same experiences, and Nathan respects his opinion.”
“Some of Nathan’s doctors and therapists at the Walter Reed Medical Center were combat vets, too. What makes Kurt Fullerton different?”
“He just is.”
She began clearing the table, shaking her head when he offered to help. So Tyler got out his laptop to send an email to his office, asking them to ship basic drafting equipment to him at Poppy Gold. He didn’t know how long he’d have to be in California, but he had commissions with deadlines and couldn’t sit idly by.
Yet he kept shooting worried looks at his mom, who was now fussing with the refrigerator. His relationship with his father might have been complicated, but his death had shaken Tyler to the core. When it came to his mother, he didn’t want to confront feelings like that again for a very long time.
* * *
THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON, Rosemary worked at the bakery’s front counter to stay out of the way of the building inspection, but as soon as Stephen Seibert left, she hurried to the office and saw Sarah looking tense.
“Is something wrong?” Rosemary asked. “You can’t have failed the inspection.”
“I passed, but Stephen told me the county is expecting to implement new building codes next year. I meet the state codes, but not all the new ones that have been proposed for Glimmer County. So I’ll have to remodel. Again.”
“How long do you have to comply?”
“Within twelve months of the effective date. The problem is there may not be enough space to enlarge the kitchens. Stephen will send a detailed analysis in a few days.” Sarah squared her shoulders and smiled brightly. “But don’t worry, I’ll figure it out. In the meantime, I’d better get busy with tasks that need doing today.”
Rosemary kept wondering how she could help, but all she could think of was to get Tyler involved. He was a gifted architect, and he might be able to come up a plan.
Except Tyler might resist. He seemed determined to stay in Glimmer Creek as long as she and Nathan were here, but he was also uncomfortable with the idea of his mother working.
When Kurt had learned about Tyler’s reaction to her job, he’d chuckled and asked if her son was worried about becoming a latchkey kid. It had made her laugh, as well, but it had also made her think. As a family they’d gone through a tremendous upheaval over the past year. Maybe that explained why Tyler didn’t want to see his mother in a new way.
Would that affect his willingness to help Sarah?
There was only one way to find out, so as soon as Rosemary got back to the Yosemite suite after work, she told Tyler about the building inspector’s news.
“She’ll need expert advice from an architect,” she concluded. “I wondered if you could take a quick look and tell her what you think.”
Tyler sighed. “I have commissions to work on while I’m here. My office is sending a drafting table and everything else I need by overnight courier.”
“Just consider it,” Rosemary implored. “What they’re asking seems terribly unfair, and you might be able to think of options the building inspector didn’t.”
* * *
“ALL RIGHT, I’LL make time,” Tyler agreed reluctantly.
On the rare occasions he’d encountered his mother’s friends since starting his career, he’d discovered they loved to get free professional services, no matter how wealthy they might be. Sarah would probably appreciate a free consult, even from him.
“Thank you, dear,” his mother said. “What would you like for dinner?”
“Order whatever you want. I’m not hungry. I thought I’d explore the town. Maybe I’ll stop by the bakery and see if Sarah wants to talk about the remodeling,” he added impulsively.
His mother’s face brightened. “That would be wonderful. She should still be there.”
Tyler’s mood was wry as he walked to Sarah’s Sweet Treats. Volunteering his advice was the diplomatic thing to do. His mother hadn’t accused him of calling in the complaint, but the faint doubt he’d seen in her eyes bothered him. He didn’t expect blind faith, but she could have asked.
Or maybe he was just being unreasonable and the thought had never occurred to her.
After all, he felt guilty for what had happened in Illinois, if only for failing to convince the owner that the design changes weren’t safe. Knowing it was the new architect’s responsibility wasn’t enough to absolve him of all blame. So maybe he was more sensitive than he needed to be.
Though it was late in the afternoon, the scents emanating from the sweet shop were richly tantalizing. Tyler opened the door and saw customers still crowding the small waiting and sitting area.
Sarah was working with two other employees, filling orders and chatting with the customers. She flicked a glance in his direction and her mouth tightened. A few minutes later, she flipped the Open sign to Closed, but it was another fifteen minutes before everyone was gone.
When it was quiet, she walked over to him. “Do you need something?”
“Mom mentioned you might need some renovations because of upcoming building code changes. She asked me to see if I can make some suggestions.”
An interesting expression crossed Sarah’s face. “That isn’t necessary. I don’t even have the full analysis from the building inspector yet.”
While Tyler had been reluctant to offer his advice, he also wasn’t used to having his services rejected. “Then maybe when you get it.”
“I don’t—” She broke off and looked at her two front-counter employees. “Hey, guys, you don’t need to stay and clean up. Put a half hour of overtime on your timesheets, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The pair left and Sarah sat opposite Tyler at the small café table. “I’m not sure why you’d offer, but it isn’t necessary. I’ll figure it out.”
“Is there any possibility of protesting the changes? Usually there’s a public comment period when regulations are changing.”
“I...” Sarah started to yawn and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, I’m short on sleep. I could protest, but the proposed rules aren’t bad. They only affect me because the restaurant and catering side of my business has gotten so huge. If I’d known code changes were coming, I would have bought a larger building to start with. Now I may need to relocate, which is too bad, because I get a huge amount of foot traffic from the tour buses.”
“That’s an even better reason for me to take a look,” Tyler said, unsure why he was pushing the issue. “Besides, a year isn’t that long when it comes to this sort of thing. If nothing else, it can be difficult to book contractors. You must have experience with that after your previous remodels.”
“Actually, my father and other family members insisted on doing most of the work,” Sarah murmured.
* * *
AS TYLER NODDED, Sarah thought about the preliminary report the building inspector had given her. She hated the idea of going into debt again, but the worst part was not knowing if another remodel was possible. She didn’t see how an extra inch of space could be gained without reducing the already-small customer area, and even that might not be enough.
“Do you think your family would be willing to help do the work again?” Tyler asked.
Sarah fought an unreasonable panic at the thought of losing her independence, which always came when she relied too heavily on family. She hadn’t been married to Douglas for that long, but she was still repairing the damage he’d done to her self-confidence.
She’d let her father take charge of the previous renovations because it had saved her a ton of money and it meant so much to him. Yet it had also made her uneasy...she was just too aware of how easy it was to start depending on someone else. Maybe some people were naturally stronger, but life had already shown how easily she could lose herself.
“I’m sure they’d want to help,” she admitted, “but they’re busy and I hate inconveniencing them.” She didn’t add that it might be impossible to stop them.
“But it’s good for the town, right? My mom mentioned this is the only bakery.”
“Yes. I always thought we needed one growing up. Even when I went to college I wanted to come back here and open this place. The plan was derailed because...er...that is, for a while, but not forgotten.”
Tyler’s eyebrows shot upward. “Why not start a chain? You could bake in a central factory and ship everything to the different sites. If you plan it right, there could be Sarah’s Sweet Treat outlets all over the Gold Country.”
“I’m not interested in factory baking, that’s why.” Sarah was annoyed, even though she hadn’t expected him to understand. “Maybe my dream isn’t as grand as being a famous architect, with clients who are desperate to have my name on their building, but I don’t want a business empire. I simply enjoy feeding people.”
Tyler’s face chilled. “Being able to call it a Prentiss building isn’t the only reason people want my designs. I’m good at what I do.”
Apparently she’d touched a nerve again.
“I’m sure you’re an excellent architect,” Sarah said, debating whether she should explain that she knew about the investigation in Illinois. No, she decided, taking another look at his arctic expression.
A gremlin inside of her wanted to goad him, but she didn’t think it was wise. It might be like catching a tiger by the tail—both hanging on and letting go would be equally dangerous.
“Then you’ll accept my professional assessment of your building,” Tyler said.
Sarah lifted her chin. The offer of free advice was tempting, but she didn’t want to be put under an obligation and couldn’t afford to hire him.
“I’m not helpless and I’m quite capable of taking care of it by myself,” she told Tyler. “I’m sure you have more important things to do with your time.”
“You don’t need to get huff—” Tyler stopped, apparently rethinking what he’d intended to say. “That is, I know you’re capable. But you aren’t an architect. I expect to be in Glimmer Creek until my mom and brother leave. Why don’t I take a look at the analysis from the building office when it comes, along with the blueprints for your building? I’d be happy to make recommendations.”
She knew quite well he’d started to say she was getting huffy and rolled her eyes. In her opinion, huffy was gender-specific. If she’d called him that, he would have felt his masculinity was being threatened. That was another point in Theo’s favor—he didn’t get in a tizzy about his manhood, though being a neutered cat, he might not feel he had that much to defend.
Sarah gave herself a shake. Her thoughts tended to drift when she was tired, and she still had to clear out the register and take care of a dozen other things before she could go home.
“That was sarcastic, not huffy,” she returned, and Tyler looked faintly embarrassed. “But I’m not making any decisions until I’m more rested and have done more evaluation of my own.”
“I understand. Maybe you can assist me in return.”
Sarah was instantly wary. “How?”
“I’ve contacted over a dozen general practitioners in Stockton to get an appointment for Nathan, but the earliest slot for a new patient isn’t for two or three weeks. Do you have any contacts who could help? Maybe someone in your family?”
“Go to the Glimmer Creek clinic. No appointment needed.”
“I noticed there was a clinic in town, but I’d prefer someone in private practice.”
Sarah gave him an exasperated look. “Give me a break. The GC clinic is brand-new and state-of-the-art. All of our medical professionals work out of it, but I’d recommend Dr. Romano for your brother. He was a reservist who served in the air force during the first Gulf War. Just call and ask when he’s there.”
Tyler nodded. “Okay. Do you mind if I wander around and take measurements, just in case you decide to accept my opinion on your renovations?” He pulled a tape measure from his pocket along with a small notebook.
“You brought a tape measure?”
“It’s a habit. If you don’t let me do some innocent checking, my mother’s feelings may be hurt. She really hopes I can come up with a solution for you.”
Invoking Rosemary’s feelings was dirty pool. “Fine. Do some measuring. Just stay out of everyone’s way. Would you like a cup of coffee before I empty the coffee makers?”
“Sure. Decaf if you have it, regular otherwise.”
Sarah poured him a large to-go cup of decaf and cleaned the coffee makers, then put the now day-old baked items into plastic bags.
“Don’t you have someone who can do that?” Tyler asked.
“Somebody comes later to clean, but we take care of the coffee machines immediately and bag the day-old items.”
“What about those?” He gestured to the loaves of bread she’d kept separate.
“They’ll be made into croutons. Croutons are popular in the shop, and we also use them for our restaurant and catering needs.”
Leaving Tyler to roam the building by himself, Sarah took the contents of the till back to the office and got it ready for the bank’s night drop box. The shift supervisor cosigned the slip, and Sarah sealed the deposit in a large envelope.
“Hey, guys, I’ll be right back,” she told the kitchen crew. They waved, used to her going to the bank each evening.
The swing shift was the smallest, except when they were catering a dinner. Luckily in Glimmer Creek, there were plenty of people willing to work on an as-needed basis.
Tyler was sitting at a table by the front window, pouring over figures in his notebook, presumably the measurements. She just couldn’t see what he hoped to do with them without knowing the proposed regulations.
“Um, are you done yet?” Sarah asked, wanting to push him out the door.
“I have a bit more to do. Your candy chef said she takes a break at eight, so I’m waiting till then to finish my measurements in the smaller kitchen.”
* * *
TYLER FOUGHT BACK a smile at the harried look on Sarah’s face. She hadn’t agreed to accept his advice, but the more she resisted, the more he wanted her to take it. The situation was unusual for him, to say the least. He was no longer accustomed to pursuing clients and certainly not to being turned down for a free consultation.
“Fine. I’m going to the bank with the night deposit.”
Sarah unlocked the door and went outside. Tyler found himself watching as she walked up the street, her hips swaying gently. The late sun glinted like platinum fire on her hair, and he shifted uneasily, more physically aware of her than he wanted to be.
As she turned to cross, a motorcycle came roaring up the street and veered toward her. Tyler jumped to his feet as the rider reached for the thick envelope she carried. The biker missed, but pushed Sarah hard enough that she went down.
Tyler ran outside as he dialed 911 on his cell. The emergency operator answered on the first ring.
“A motorcyclist just tried to rob Sarah Fullerton, half a block southeast from her business,” he said concisely. “Across from the bank. They hit her and drove off.”
“Yes, sir. Please stay on the phone while I dispatch officers to the scene.”
Sarah was sitting up when he got there, dazed, but still clutching the envelope.
“I’ve called the police,” Tyler explained, trying to determine if she was badly hurt. “Do you need an ambulance?”
“No, and I don’t need the police, either. It was just a motorcyclist who doesn’t know how to steer.”
“Somebody tried to rob you, Sarah,” he announced bluntly, anger burning through him. “I was watching, and there’s no question the biker was reaching for the envelope. He also struck you and left. That’s hit-and-run.”
A hum of agreement came from the onlookers who’d gathered.
Sarah tried to get up, and he insisted she stay put. “You need to be checked first.” Tyler heard a voice from his phone and put it to his ear. “Sorry, what was that?”
“I’ve dispatched paramedics, sir,” the dispatcher said. “May I have your name, phone number and address?”
Tyler was providing them as a police car and paramedic unit came screaming to a halt nearby.
Two uniformed officers and a paramedic team came over, and it was clear from the way they greeted Sarah that she was either family or a good friend. One officer started directing traffic while the second took a report, speaking to the different witnesses.
A third vehicle arrived, and a tall, solemn-looking man got out, striding over to Sarah. She was now sitting at the end of the paramedic vehicle while they treated an abrasion on her elbow. Though he wore plain clothes, he had a badge attached to his belt.
“Hey, coz, what happened?” he asked.
“A motorcyclist brushed against me and I got knocked over. I wouldn’t have even fallen if I hadn’t been off balance. Everyone is making too big of a deal about this, Zach.” Yet her voice had risen, suggesting she was more agitated than she wanted to let on.
“Somebody tried to snatch the bank deposit she was carrying,” Tyler interjected. “I saw it clearly.”
Sarah remained pale as he described the rider, which wouldn’t help with identification. Despite the warm day, the biker had been wearing a bulky jacket, gloves and helmet. Tyler couldn’t even confirm the person’s sex. On top of that, nobody had spotted any distinguishing insignia on the rider’s clothes or motorcycle.
“We have a bulletin out to watch for bikes of that description, but it’s probably long gone now,” Zach said.
The paramedics advised Sarah to see a doctor but didn’t think she needed to be transported to the local medical clinic.
“Hey, Millie,” she called, waving to a woman hovering at the edge of the crowd. Tyler recognized her as one of the cooks he’d seen working in the kitchen. “I’m all right and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Though Millie nodded and walked back toward Sarah’s Sweet Treats, it was clear that she’d rather stay. Frankly, Tyler thought they had too many onlookers. The officers seemed to agree because they were urging the crowd to disperse.
Sarah was keeping a death grip on the envelope and looked at Tyler blankly when he offered to put it in the bank’s night drop box, just a few feet from the paramedic’s vehicle.
“Oh. Yeah.” She glanced down, then held it out to him.
“Just a moment,” ordered Zach. “Sarah, how much cash is in there?”
“Twelve hundred seventy-two dollars and fifty-three cents. Also some local checks.”
“Who knew you were bringing the deposit down here?”
“Practically everyone knows I take care of it around the same time each evening.”
Zach looked exasperated. “Routines make you an easy target, Sarah. Until we get this sorted out, call the station and I’ll send an officer to escort you or come myself.”
“I really don’t think the rider was trying to steal it,” she protested.
“That’s your Pollyanna nature speaking. Witnesses say otherwise, and it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
Tyler took the envelope and dropped it in the deposit slot. If he’d thought a small town like Glimmer Creek couldn’t provide any excitement, he’d obviously been wrong. But this was one form of excitement he could do without.
CHAPTER FIVE (#u347fd3cf-8318-5e2e-85e4-6fa10251c84c)
SARAH WAS MORE SHAKEN than she wanted to let on in front of her cousin and Tyler Prentiss. She didn’t want to believe someone had been trying to rob her, but the scared part of her—the one that had been getting silent calls at night and a complaint called into the city—wasn’t so sure.
One minute she’d been enjoying the evening sunshine, and the next she was on the ground. Her arm hurt, and she suspected the rest of her body would protest once the shock had worn off.
Her own impressions of the motorcyclist were vague at best. She really hadn’t been paying attention.
Glimmer Creek was wary of motorcyclists. A few years ago, they’d had two biker gangs meet up in town and get into a fight, but Sarah had friends in Los Angeles who rode motorcycles and they were nice people. They just liked the freedom they felt on a bike. While some were more unconventional, that didn’t make them criminals.
“Shall I contact Kurt for you?” Zach asked, distracting her.
She shook her head. “I’ll talk to Dad myself. It would scare the heck out of him if you call, and I don’t need more drama tonight.”
“Okay. Who is this?” he queried, looking at Tyler.
“Tyler Prentiss. He’s staying at Poppy Gold, and his mother works for me. Tyler, this is Zach Williams, the Glimmer Creek police chief.”
Zach’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly as he shook hands with Tyler. He must have remembered Great-Uncle Milt saying that Tyler had caused a scene at the bakery.
“Hello, Mr. Prentiss,” Zach said coolly. “I don’t think Sarah mentioned that we’re related.” It was a not-so-subtle warning.
Tyler’s return smile was equally measured. “I figured it out when you called her coz.”
“Of course. Sarah, let me take you home,” Zach said after a final look at Tyler.
“Nonsense. My car is behind the shop, and I’m okay to drive.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Very well. Call if you need anything.”
Sarah was grateful when the officials and most of the onlookers had dispersed. She glanced at Tyler. “You’d better get going, too. I’m sure Rosemary wonders what’s kept you.”
“Mom knew I was coming here to discuss your building. She’ll be more concerned if I return too soon. Besides, I haven’t finished measuring.”
“Maybe another time,” Sarah said firmly. She wasn’t in the mood for dealing with anything but the necessities, and Tyler was far from a necessity. While he might be a great architect, she couldn’t afford him.
He shrugged. “I’ll still walk you back.”
It was just a short way and the same direction as Poppy Gold, so she didn’t object. But at the entrance of the shop she stuck up her chin. “Good night. Thanks for coming to help.”
She quickly slipped inside and locked the door behind her.
“Sarah?” Millie called from the kitchen.
“Yes, it’s me.” Sarah went in and tried not to appear as frazzled as she felt. “Can you handle everything? I want to go home for a hot bath.”
“No problem,” Millie assured her confidently. “You don’t have to stay every night. We know what to do.”
“I realize that. There’s just a lot of work.”
“And you have us to do it.”
Sarah didn’t need more convincing. She locked up the credit card receipts, grabbed her purse and went out the back door. Each business on the block had a rear parking area, a perfect spot for the electric food-delivery vehicles. All she’d needed to do was install a special station for overnight charging—with few exceptions, Poppy Gold didn’t allow modern gas-powered vehicles on-site.
Automatically, she plugged the catering vehicles into the charger, then got in her car and drove home.
Once inside with Theo on her lap, she started to call her father’s cell, only to remember he’d said he’d lost it. So she dialed his home number. It was unusual to get voice mail—he was the early-to-bed type—but easier, too.
“Hey, Dad,” she said brightly. “In case someone else calls and tells you about it, I wanted to let you know there was a minor incident on Mariposa Avenue this evening. A motorcyclist drove too close and I fell, but I’m perfectly all right. I’m home now and going to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.”
Sarah disconnected and dialed into her own voice mail. There were several silent messages. She deleted them one after another, her stomach churning.
Earlier in the day, she’d signed up for the national Do Not Call list. It would take a while for her number to be processed...but if the calls weren’t from a telemarketer, being on the list wouldn’t do any good.
Theo was still hungry for attention, so she cuddled him for another few minutes before opening a can of his favorite food and going upstairs for a bath. The water lapped around her, soothing her tired muscles, and she closed her eyes.
Abruptly the phone rang. She’d put the handset within arm’s reach—half expecting her dad to call—but the caller ID showed it was her cousin Tessa.
Sarah let out a sigh. Tessa had gotten married two years ago, so she generally didn’t phone this time of the evening unless it was related to Poppy Gold Inns and a catering need. Marriage changed people, but even having a baby hadn’t dulled Tessa’s determination to make the facility an even bigger success than her parents had already made it.
“Hey, Tessa,” she answered.
“Hi. Um, I just checked my email. We have a last-minute request to have a catered dinner on Saturday. It’s for that big family reunion—the one you’re doing a reception for tomorrow. I know it’s a lot to ask, but is there any chance you can accommodate them?”
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Julianna Morris
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Driven to defend a woman who won′t let him!Poppy Gold Inns should be the perfect place to relax, except architect Tyler Prentiss doesn’t do slow. He’s juggling his work long distance while looking after his brother, a wounded soldier battling PTSD. And figuring out how to make nice with Sarah Fullerton, his mother’s new boss. Helping the stubborn, sexy baker remodel her kitchens is a step in the right direction, he figures. And when someone begins harassing Sarah, he wants to do more, but the independent woman won′t let him. Tyler knows all about needing space. She’s in danger, and so is he… of finally opening his heart.