21. Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-one
Phoebe
I sliced two pieces of fresh, warm rosemary bread. One went to Hailey, the other to Cormac. This was the first loaf I’d made since my class last week. Hailey had smelled it baking during her shift and asked if she could taste it when it was done. Cormac had stopped in right before we closed, so now they were both my guinea pigs.
I hadn’t intended to bake bread this week, but I’d needed to keep myself busy. Any downtime I’d had had been spent with my family, cleaning like a madwoman, and baking. I’d managed not to have a single sighting of him .
My heart was a little less achy, but not by much. For the most part, in those few quiet moments I’d allowed myself, I vacillated between confusion and anger.
But it didn’t matter why he’d behaved that way, only that he had. I was moving on, baking bread and spending time with people who wanted to be with me.
“Mmmm.” Hailey’s eyebrows popped as she chewed. “I don’t think I’ve ever tasted rosemary before, but I like it.”
Cormac nodded in agreement. “This is your first loaf?”
“It is,” I preened.
“I shouldn’t be surprised; it’s the best bread I’ve ever tasted.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and tucked me against him. Everyone in our family was tall, but my baby brother towered over even Caleb at six and a half feet. “I’m going to have to forbid you from selling it, though.”
Twisting under his arm, I gave him the side-eye. “Why’s that?”
He wagged his finger at me playfully. “Young lady, tell me where you’re going to get the time to add baking bread to your insane schedule? Do you want to start going to work at four a.m.?” I wrinkled my nose, and Cormac laughed. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Maybe lay off the bread until you bring in another full-time employee.”
Hailey stole another piece. “But wouldn’t selling a lot of bread pay the salary of a new employee?”
I tapped my temple. “I like the way you think, smarty.”
Cormac gave me a shake. “How many loaves are you going to need to sell to pay that salary?”
I sighed, reluctantly admitting defeat, even though I really didn’t have plans to hire anyone else so soon. That idea was a year or two down the road.
“Okay. I concede. I won’t start selling bread.”
Hailey slid the rest of the loaf across the cutting board, bringing it closer to her. “But maybe, on occasion, you could bake some for your very best employees.”
“And your best younger brother,” Cormac added, eyeing the bread Hailey had very obviously laid claim on.
I patted his arm. “It’s okay to let her have that one. You don’t have to fight her for it.” With a flourish, I whipped a towel off the second loaf I’d baked. “You can take this one home.”
He grinned wide. “I knew you loved me. Thanks, Phe.”
Cormac stayed to help Hailey and me close up, then drove the two of us to my place so I could grab my car. Hailey’s foster mom hadn’t been able to pick her up from work today, so I’d volunteered to bring her home. My brother would have done the driving, but he had a real live date he had to get to. Since he’d had his heart broken years ago, he rarely dated, and it seemed I was more excited about it than he was. Still, he was trying, and that was the first step.
After waving Cormac off, I unlocked the doors of my car, ignoring the big silver truck parked next to it. Hailey climbed in beside me, eyeing the truck and my house.
“I like your house,” she said.
“I do too. During the summer, I can open my windows and listen to the concerts in the park.”
She settled back in her seat with a sigh as I pulled out of the driveway. “I’d love that. My house is loud, but not that kind of loud. If I want to listen to music, I have to wear headphones. There are definitely no live concerts.”
I glanced over at her. “But is it a good kind of loud?”
She pursed her mouth, considering. “I guess so. I mean, it had been loud when I was little too, when I’d lived with my real parents, but that had mostly been screaming and slamming things.” A knot formed in my throat. “My foster family is nothing like that. They’re loud because someone’s always talking or laughing, and Linda, my foster mom, likes to run the vacuum a lot. We’re kinda messy, and we have two dogs. So, yeah, it’s loud, but the good kind.”
The knot unfurled. That kind of loud I was intimately familiar with, and it was definitely the good kind.
Hailey’s eyes were on me as I drove. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Well…I was wondering what happened with the guy you were dating. He doesn’t pick you up anymore, and…don’t get mad, but you’ve seemed pretty sad lately. Did you break up?”
I sighed, wishing I hadn’t agreed to answer her without finding out her question.
“It didn’t work out,” I hedged. “I’m sad about it because I really liked him.”
“So he dumped you?”
A surprised laugh burst out of me. “No one dumped anyone. It just didn’t work out.”
“Did you break up with him then? I thought you liked him. You said he was nice.”
“Hailey…” I groaned softly.
“I’m sorry if I’m being nosy.” She twisted in her seat. “I’ve been a little worried about you, and I guess Deke too. He’s got to be sad he lost you.”
“I understand.” Fortunately, I pulled up to the curb outside of her house, ending the inquisition. “I’m a little bit of a Nosy Nellie too. But you’re right, I’m disappointed things didn’t work out, so right now, it’s easier if I don’t talk about it, okay?”
“Of course.” Hailey’s gaze was sympathetic as it swept over me. “I hope there’s some way you guys can work it out. You smiled a lot more when he was around.”
With that, she hopped out of my car like she hadn’t just landed a solid punch to my gut.
If I had thought I’d be able to move on peacefully, I’d obviously forgotten what living in a small town was like. After the morning rush, I disappeared into the kitchen to bake more cookies. I’d gotten one batch in the oven when Camille stuck her head in the door.
“Hey, Phe. Tilly McMannis is asking for you. She’s doing some work on her laptop and said it’s no rush.”
My brows drew together. “Tilly? What could she want?”
Camille shrugged. “She didn’t say. Should I tell her you’re too busy?”
“No, that’s okay.” I waved her off. “The cookies are baking, so I have a minute.”
I didn’t know Tilly well. She’d been ahead of me in school and we hadn’t shared friends, but I’d always had a good impression of her. She and her husband, Chris, had been together forever. They were an odd couple that somehow fit. Her, with her neat bob and headbands, sweet sweaters and corduroy slacks, and Chris, with his mountain-man beard and rugged work clothes. Whenever I saw them together, he doted on her—opening doors, holding her hand, swinging her gently around the dance floor.
She smiled at me and closed her laptop as I approached her table. “Hi, Phoebe. How are you?”
“I’m great.” I nodded toward her computer. Tilly worked in the accounting department at the ranch. “Are you working?”
“No, not really.” She stacked her hands on top of it. “It’s my day off. I was trying to clear out my email inbox, which is pretty much an impossible feat.”
“That’s why I don’t bother trying.” I pulled out the chair across from hers and perched on the edge. “Camille said you needed to speak to me?”
“Yes. I’m sorry if you were busy. I would have called, but I don’t have your number.”
I waited for her to continue, which she did.
“Well…” she blew out a heavy breath, “I want to talk to you about Deke. I’m sure you know he’s Chris’s best friend and a good friend of mine.”
Blood rushed to my head in an instant, making my cheeks burn and my brain buzz. “Tilly…I don’t think there’s anything for us to talk about on that subject.”
Her eyes slid back and forth between mine, and she whispered, “He was happy.”
I couldn't stop from flinching. “I don’t—”
“Hear me out, please . Deke is a good man who’s been dealt a really rough hand. Chris and I have tried our hardest to help him build a new life since he got out, and on a professional front, that’s happening. But personally…you have to understand he’s never had a girlfriend, much less dated. Before he went in, he had so many family issues I don’t think he even considered it. You’re the first woman I’ve heard him talk about since high school, and you were the only girl he talked about back then.”
I swallowed hard, trying to take in what she was saying, even though it felt like there were razor blades in my throat. I’d assumed, after everything, he’d kept me a secret. To know he’d talked about me to his closest friends and still did what he had hurt even worse.
It didn’t seem Tilly knew what had happened last Friday. If she did, if she knew I’d spotted him on what had looked very much like a double date and he’d ignored me, she might not have been riding so hard for him. Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. Deacon might not have been mine, but that didn’t erase everything. Despite myself, I cared for him, and I refused to make him look bad in his friends’ eyes.
Tilly went on. “Whatever happened, if he pulled back from you or messed up in a way that made you end things, I’m asking you to be patient with him. Hold the line, Phoebe. He’ll return when he gets his head on straight. I know it. He was so excited about you, and Deke doesn’t show that emotion often. Maybe never.” Her hand darted out, grabbing mine. “He asked Chris and me to go dancing with you two. We were all supposed to go out last weekend. I don’t know why the plans got canceled, only that Chris said Deke had shown up to work on Monday looking like he’d died.”
“Dancing?” I whispered. That was news to me. I didn’t know how to feel about that, so I tucked it away for later when I was alone and could roll it around in my mind.
She laughed. A manic burst that faded as quickly as it had begun. “I know. I didn’t believe it when Chris told me, but it’s true. That’s how I know how real his feelings are for you. Deke dancing?” She shook her head. “I can’t even picture it.”
We danced in my kitchen. Every night, he spun me like a music box ballerina.
I didn’t tell her that. Those nights had been sweet, and they were mine to hold tight. I also didn’t figure Deacon would like me sharing them, not even with one of his good friends.
“I understand why you’re here, Tilly. You’re being a loyal friend…but this isn’t going to turn out how you want.”
She squeezed my hand tight. “I’m asking you to be open when he comes to you. Please, just let him have the chance to make it right.”
I withdrew my hand, balling it in my lap. “I don’t think he’ll be coming to me.” I hadn’t even seen him in almost a week. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” She straightened her spine and leveled me with a direct gaze. “He’ll come to you. Just hold the line until he does. He’s worth it.”
Long after she’d left, the shop had closed, and I’d gone home for the evening; I was still thinking about Deacon wanting to take me dancing. I would have loved that so much, even if it was too chilly to wear a sundress.
Something told me there might have been more to what had happened in that tavern. If he’d come to me like Tilly had assured me he would, I would have listened to his explanation.
But he’d stayed away.
There was nothing to forgive, even if I’d wanted to.