Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
Nat
Nathaniel almost ran into the kitchen of the Lucky Goat. He should have expected that there would be people in the tavern and that they would all be watching him and Thea arrive, but he hadn’t expected there to be so many—and for all of them to be as interested as they were.
“I’m leaving Morgan in charge,” Abigail announced as she followed behind them. “Everybody be good and listen to her.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the deep-voiced response came, and there was a chorus of assenting noises.
Nathaniel glanced at Abigail out of the corner of his eye. He’d never known the tavern to be this polite. Apparently, this woman had done more than charm his brother—she had charmed the entire tavern.
He felt even more respect for her as he glanced back to see the grizzled old men sitting at the bar smiling at her as she led them toward the kitchen—as if he didn’t know where it was.
He had grown up in this building—definitely not as much as Roan had, but before his father’s parents had passed, he had spent many hours here with his grandmother.
He glanced up at the old tapestry she’d made with a goat and the tavern’s name stitched into it, one of his favorite memories of her.
It had been mended.
It had once been torn in a bar fight, and Roan had hung it higher to keep it out of the way, but now, the part that had dangled no longer hung free. It had been stitched back together so well he could barely tell where it had torn.
That was not Roan’s doing.
He was pretty sure his brother had no idea how to use a needle and thread. He knew because their mother had taught him, but Roan spent more time in the tavern than with their mother.
Had Abigail done that, too?
He followed Abigail into the kitchen, and when she entered, an overwhelming sense of rightness filled him.
She belonged here with Roan, and he belonged at the café with Thea. Both of them with the women who had changed them for the better. Both of them serving their community the way their grandparents had always wanted.
His brother stood at the kitchen counter, pulling out bowls and setting them next to a bubbling pot of stew. Nathaniel took a deep breath and smiled.
“That’s Grandmother’s recipe, isn’t it?” he asked.
“I thought it was worth pulling out tonight,” Roan said.
The silence hung between them for a moment before Abigail stepped forward to Roan’s side and began ladling stew into the bowls.
“Roan, would you get us drinks?” she asked.
“What can I get for you?” Roan asked.
“I’ll just do cider,” Thea said with a smile. “I’ve heard it’s very good.”
“It is,” Roan said proudly. “It’s my grandfather’s recipe.”
“Your grandparents started the tavern, didn’t they?” Thea asked, looking between the two of them.
“They did,” Roan and Nat said in unison.
Nat grinned at his brother, nodding his head toward him, allowing him to tell the story.
“They met when my grandfather apprenticed for Grandmother’s father. He owned an apple orchard that exported fruit to the entire country, and Grandfather wanted nothing more than to impress Grandmother. So he developed his cider recipe, which became well known across all of Galamere.”
Had he never told Thea the story before?
“And then our father took over,” Roan added bitterly, “and it was never the same.”
“We could resurrect the cider business, though,” Nathaniel said quietly. “I know it wouldn’t be easy, but I believe we can do it.”
“You have more faith than I do,” Roan said with a chuckle. “I don’t think we would be able to do as well as our grandfather did.”
“No,” Nat said with a shrug, “probably not. But you never know, and it could be worth trying.”
“I think you should try,” Abigail said as she brought the bowls to the table and gestured for Nat and Thea to sit. “It seems to me that it would mean a lot to both of you.”
“It would,” Nathaniel admitted. “But I don’t know that meaning a lot to both of us is enough to make it happen again.”
Abigail didn’t respond to that, but she glanced at Nat in a way that promised she wasn’t done with the conversation.
And oddly enough, Nathaniel couldn’t wait to talk about it more.
What if they really could restore their heritage in that way?
Maybe he and Thea could serve the cider in the café, too, and it could be something shared between both the tavern and café.
Of course, that assumed he didn’t continue turning into a cat and was able to have a future with Thea.
There was a scratching at the back door and Abigail opened it to let in Beastie, the large white dog bounding into the kitchen and careening toward Thea, who looked slightly apprehensive.
“This is Beastie,” Nat said, stepping in between the two of them, taking the brunt of the dog’s excitement and inability to stop quickly on such short notice. “How are you, girl?”
“She’s good,” Roan said, the affection clear in his voice. “She broke up a brawl the other day before it even started.”
“She’s the best at that,” Nat said, getting down on her level and giving her all the scratches she wanted.
Thea came up beside him and tentatively patted Beastie on the head.
She was more of a cat person.
“Hello, Beastie,” she said. “She’s very pretty. I don’t know that I’ve seen a dog like her before.”
“She’s a half descendant of a wild breed that runs in the mountains,” Roan explained as Beastie’s tail began thumping against his leg. “Ow, Beastie, go on out front.”
The dog obediently trotted off to help Morgan maintain the peace in the front, and Nat stood, placing his hand on Thea’s lower back.
“I love this kitchen,” Thea said, looking around in appreciation. “This is so big compared to the café.”
“Our grandfather wanted only the best here,” Nat said.
“He knew that Grandmother would leave him if he didn’t give her a good kitchen.” Roan laughed.
Nathaniel looked at his brother, a flood of feelings rushing through him, none of them ones he wanted to mess with right now.
But he had forgotten how nice it was to talk with Roan when they weren’t fighting.
“I don’t suppose your grandfather built the café, too, yeah?” Thea asked.
“He did,” Nathaniel said. “My grandmother was quite happy running the tavern and didn’t move over to the other building—it was meant to be for our uncle. But he passed away before he could see it come to fruition.”
“I’m so sorry,” Thea murmured, and Abigail reached out to touch Roan’s arm.
Nathaniel studied Abigail and Roan for the rest of the night.
He’d had reservations when she first appeared—it wouldn’t be the first time there had been someone sniffing around him and Roan for the apparent status they could provide.
He’d seen it in his own mother. But she seemed to truly care for Roan, which was a surprise, given that it was his brother.
He could allow for her having strange taste, though, as long as she wasn’t going to hurt Roan.
Nathaniel was surprised that the longer dinner went on, the more comfortable he became, and by the end of the night, he truly did not wish to leave. But all too soon, they had finished eating and finished their drinks, and Thea looked at him with a sigh.
“I need to sleep,” she said regretfully. “I have to be up early in the morning.”
“Yes, we should go,” Nat said, getting to his feet and pulling out Thea’s chair for her.
“I hope you will come again,” Abigail said, her eyes bright as she and Roan also stood.
“I would like that,” Thea admitted, “and you and Roan must come to the café. I would love to introduce you to Ginger.”
“I would love that,” Abigail said.
Roan reached for his brother’s hand, shaking it for the first time in far too long.
“This was good,” he said, the words sticking in his throat a little.
“We’ll have to do it again,” Roan said, nodding. “I enjoyed this.”
They took their leave, saying goodbye to a tavern full of curious people, and Nat laced his fingers through Thea’s as he began to walk her home.
“Well?” she asked him. “What did you think?”
“I think that Abigail has done what I never could do with my brother,” he admitted, “and I’m very much hoping that we can improve our relationship.”
“I think the same thing,” Thea said. “I think that went extraordinarily well, and I’m looking forward to becoming friends with Abigail.”
“Did you see the way everyone in the tavern couldn’t mind their own business?” Nat asked with a grin. “They looked as if their eyes would bug out of their heads when we all came out together.”
Thea laughed. “I’m not surprised. If I were them, I would’ve expected there to be a fight in the kitchen rather than a reconciliation
“Everyone in town knows what he did to you, and they all know that I have no intention of letting him disrespect you again.”
“Fortunately, it didn’t come to that.”
“But if it had, I would have been ready,” Nat said.
“I’m well aware,” Thea said, looking up at him with that smile that suggested he hung the moon. “I love you,” she said, as they came to a stop outside the café.
Nathaniel pulled his key out of his pocket and unlocked the door for her, opening it slightly.
“I love you, too,” he said, taking a step closer, his hand sliding up to cup her cheek as he leaned down to kiss her goodnight.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.
“You will indeed,” she replied, her smile wide. “Good night.” She reluctantly pulled away as Ginger appeared in the doorway, meowing at them.
Knowing Ginger the way he did now, Nat could only imagine that she was asking Thea where she had been, and he grinned at the thought.
“We went out to dinner,” he told her, “but I brought her back safe and sound.”
Ginger meowed at him.
“Are you going to start talking to my cat all the time now?” Thea asked him.
“Only when I think she’s mad at me,” Nathaniel teased. “You were mad at me for long enough that I’m sure she already has a terrible opinion of me.”
“I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”
“I am,” he admitted. “She likes me. She likes the way I pet her, and she likes that I took care of you when you were sick.”
“I liked that, too,” Thea admitted. “I wasn’t expecting it.”
“I’m glad that I was able to be there for you,” Nat said.
Ginger began to meow again.
“She’s fine. She’s coming,” he said. “Quit being impatient.”
Thea laughed and took a step toward the door. Nathaniel reached out to grab her hand and tugged her back for one more kiss.
“Good night,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.
“Good night, Nat,” she responded before pulling away and closing the door behind herself.
Nathaniel sighed and began to walk home. Dinner had gone well, so hopefully going home to go to bed would also go well, and he and his brother would get along.
But then his nose began to twitch, and he sneezed—and in the space of a moment, he turned into Baker the cat.
Nathaniel yowled, the sound echoing through the street.
Well, now he couldn’t go home, because in all his confusion about dinner going well, he’d forgotten to bring up the fact that both he and Roan had been cursed. So, his brother had no reason to let an orange cat into the house if he showed up at the doorstep.
He groaned in frustration and made his way back toward the tavern. If he was lucky, he could jump over the back fence and sleep in the garden and stay out of Beastie’s way.
If he wasn’t lucky…he wouldn’t make it over the fence.
Or Beastie would wake up.