Chapter 6
Ryan spent Sunday walking. His boots felt level on the pavement and that was amazing.
Since he didn’t want to bump into anyone he knew, he walked the streets of St. Joe.
The extra height in the right heel made a huge difference.
Striding along, he checked out Christmas windows, especially toys for Nathan and Justin.
The December wind ruffled his hair and bit his ears. He couldn’t wait to see Sarah.
Monday he arrived at The Full Cup earlier than usual. After hanging up his jacket and turning on the ovens, he walked. Worn by age, this wooden floor could be tricky. Still, his boots struck the boards with confidence, and he loved the sound of his heels on the wood.
Then he got to work. The air filled with that yeasty smell he’d grown to like.
When the loaves were ready, he started shoving them into the oven.
Then he worked on the pastries. He’d watched Sarah enough times now that he knew what to do.
The cheese crowns were the first to go in, followed by cinnamon buns.
Not knowing what Sarah’s plans were for the day, he set out plenty of butter for cookies. As he worked, he listened for her car.
But when she finally arrived, she barely looked at him. “Hey, Ryan. How are you doing today?” She slammed the door shut behind her.
“Fine.” He sidled closer, pivoting a little on his boots. “Are you all right?”
“Of course. Why?” Ripping off her scarf, she hung it up.
“No reason.” His question seemed to offend her.
Tension had a hold on Sarah’s pretty face.
Hardly pausing for breath, she began to rattle off instructions.
“Business was great Saturday, but customers emptied the racks. We’ve got to get going.
” Pressing a hand to her forehead, she looked upset.
Her red-rimmed eyes were accented by her pale skin. Had she even slept last night?
“Whoa, whoa,” he said, stepping closer. “Slow down, Sarah.”
“I can’t. Not when there’s so much to do.” Ripping off her coat, she missed the hook on her first try.
“Let me help. Everything will be fine.” Ryan lifted her heavy winter coat from the floor and hung it up
“Thanks, Ryan.” Tension rolled off her body as she slipped into her apron and pulled on her hair net. “We have to bake sand tarts, lemon bars, thimbles and maybe even gingerbread men today.”
Then she sniffed. “Have you started the pastries?”
“Done.” He wanted Sarah to know she could count on him.
“Oh, good. Great.” Her shoulders eased a bit. But she still didn’t really look at him as he strolled between ovens and the cooling racks. Instead she checked the butter.
Ryan finally gave up. “Where do you want me to start?”
“Sand tarts. You know where the pecans are.”
Okay, so she wasn’t going to notice. Get over yourself. But he wanted to know what was bothering her. He got to work chopping, zesting, sifting and measuring.
Last week when they worked together, he’d enjoyed seeing her face flush from the heat, laughed when she ended up with flour on her nose or cheek. And while they worked, she chattered. He liked the sound of her voice more than what she was saying.
But this morning she was quiet and worrying.
“Nathan’s acting up in school. He brought home a note. I have to call Mrs. Wilcox today.”
“Can’t they cut the kid some slack?” He took out a tray of rye bread. If he had a dollar for every time his mother had to call a teacher, he’d be a rich man. “This is a rough year for him...and you.”
“Sure, they know it’s because of Jamie. But what can I do about that?” Her voice caught. He felt helpless. The boys missed their dad.
“What did they say they wanted for Christmas?” Sarah pinned him with her eyes. “Why did you make me move away? I couldn’t hear.”
Now, this was a hard one. “Just the usual stuff. I can’t remember. There were so many kids that day.” He jammed the tray of bread onto the cooling rack.
“I suppose so.” Her expression clouded. “You were awfully busy.”
Nathan and Justin were his only nephews. No way would he not remember their Christmas list. But he could never tell her. Ryan thought back to his own childhood toys. “Trains. I think they mentioned trains.”
Sarah’s eyes brightened. “I did take them to the train shop. What’s so secret about that?”
The bread timer went off. How could he explain why he couldn’t tell her? Opening the oven door, he grabbed a pan with his bare hands. Pain seared him. The pan teetered on the edge of the rack.
One look at his face and Sarah grabbed the red mitts and transferred the pan to the cooling rack. He just stood there, feeling like an idiot. “Are you all right?”
Shaking off the mitts, she faced him. Ryan had to drop his gaze. He didn’t want her to know that his hands felt like they’d been thrust into hot coals.
“Cold water.” She nudged him over to the sink.
“Don’t know what I was thinking.” Now, that was a lie. All he thought about was her.
“Just an accident. I’ve done the same thing.” She turned on the cold water.
Standing next to the old sink, he let the water flow over his hands.
“What is it?” Sarah said briskly. “This isn’t like you. What’s on your mind?”
“I guess it’s just the whole Christmas thing.” He grabbed a towel and Sarah turned off the faucet. Ryan should be better at lying. He’d had plenty of experience.
“You’re thinking of your brother, aren’t you?” Sarah’s own eyes filled. “Oh, Ryan. Don’t think I don’t feel the same. Both me and the boys.”
The emptiness in her eyes only made his own pain worse. It killed him to even bring this up, but he wanted the best for her. And that wasn’t him.
“Have you ever thought of dating, Sarah?”
“No way.” Grabbing a sponge, she wiped down the butcher block counter with jerky strokes. “I can’t even think of it.”
Taking the sponge from her hands, Ryan set it on the sink. He was no good at talking about feelings. “The boys might need a man around the house.”
Sarah looked at Ryan as if he’d lost his mind. Maybe he had. The thought of having another man play ball with his nephews or take them to movies made his head hurt. Maybe he should suggest some limits. “Of course, I’d want to check him out first.”
The hurt in her eyes turned to outrage. “Oh you would, would you?”
Shuffling in his boots, Jamie nearly lost his footing. What right did he have to say something like that? “I just want you to be careful. That’s all, Sarah.”
The words felt like chunks of dry bread in his mouth. He wasn’t any good at this. Jamie had been the one who always said the right thing. His older brother could be clever and kind at the same time. Not Ryan. He laid out whatever was on his mind like a slab of meat at Froehlich’s Butcher Shop.
Sarah was studying him and her eyes softened. “I know you mean well, Ryan. You’re always here for us. Thank you for that.” She lay one cool hand over his.
The light touch of her skin zinged through his body. “I’m h-happy you think of me like that. Dependable, I mean.”
Years ago, she never would have said that he was there for her.
He was the pain in everyone’s side. The black sheep of the family.
His behavior caused too many calls from the principal.
Too many complaints from neighbors that he’d busted their fence or taken all their ripe cucumbers or done donuts in their fields with his pickup.
Back then he’d found his stupid pranks hilarious.
Now he wished he could punch the reset button. For her.
Blood pounded in his temples from holding back. Sarah smelled like almonds from mixing the sand tarts. How easy it would be to wrap his arms around her. Whisper words in her hair that would probably horrify her.
She gave her apron a tug over the full figure he found enticing. “We’re fine. I’m, well, everything’s fine. So the boys really said trains?”
Nodding slowly, he swallowed hard. No way could he reveal what the boys had asked for without looking like a fool. Time to change the subject. “Do you mind if I ask you a business question?”
“Sure. Ask away.”
“Why do we focus on baked goods when the shop’s named The Full Cup?” He really pulled that one out of the air. But he had been wondering.
Her surprised laughter filled his ears and his heart.
“Good question. My dad named the business. He thought flavored coffees would be the future. Mom liked to bake but Dad pictured a cozy coffee shop, maybe with some bakery. The fancy machine my father bought was way beyond Mom. She gave him a hard time because ‘that contraption’ cost a lot of money.”
Ryan chuckled. “Your dad had a point. Espresso coffees go for a pretty price.”
“I know that. But Mom still hates that machine. She doesn’t know how to work it.
” Her curls had escaped the net. Frowning, she played with one, and he could almost feel it tickle his burned hand.
“The flavored coffees take time. I can’t be in the front working the machine and in the back baking too. ”
Ryan couldn’t let this drop. He also couldn’t stop staring at that curl. “I understand. But still...”
“What’s that smell?” Sarah sniffed and ran to the wall of ovens.
The cheese crowns. What else could go wrong? While he stood here dreaming about soft curls, the cheese crowns had become charcoal briquettes.
“I’m so sorry, Sarah.” Clumsy as usual, he had trouble pulling the baking mitts over his burned hands.
But Sarah was on it. She had the trays out in a second. “Oh, dear.” Her face fell as she stared at the charred edges of the pastries.
“I’ll do another batch.”
Her eyes swirled to the clock. “No problem, Ryan. We can live one day without them. Let’s get to work on the cookies, okay?”
But it wasn’t okay. Not for him.