Chapter Nine
E mily, Sarah, and Tara made side-by-side versions of her flourless chocolate cake, because it had always been her theory that simply talking one through about a recipe was nothing like making it yourself. Both enthusiastically dove into the experiment, and they decided, if the cakes turned out, they would divvy up the slices between family members to save them all the temptation of wolfing down a million calories alone.
While they worked, Emily talked them through the steps of melting the chocolate, adding the eggs and vanilla and the rest. While Sarah was an old hand at making cakes, it was Tara who Emily kept her eye on. She measured each and every ingredient precisely then took notes in a little notebook she carried with her. She was also a natural, folding the whipped cream gently into the chocolate mixture with impressive technique that turned this cake into a cross between a brownie, a torte, and chocolate mousse.
They carefully cut out circles of parchment paper to lay in the pan bottom before scooping their cake mixture on top.
As they worked, they talked about Emily’s supper club back in the city and how she and Liam had met. Tara listened quietly, but rarely offered a comment of her own.
Emily remembered years of silence as a teenager herself, always feeling outside of everything, with her brother and father constantly giving the good-old-boy pat on the back to one another and leaving her out. She supposed this habit of silent observation had served her well as she got older, working in the industry she did, but it made things considerably harder socially.
She’d heard Tara’s story from Liam at the fishing hole as they were casting for fish—about how she’d nearly been forced to give up her baby because she was alone in the world without support.
Knowing Tara had been through a difficult life of foster care—only to end up being taken in by the Hardestys, alongside her baby, made Emily want to hug her. Tell her everything would be better when she got older. But, of course, that was her life, not Tara’s. And now that her own life had just literally exploded, perhaps she wasn’t the one to be doling out rainbow and unicorn advice to anyone.
As they popped the cakes in the oven, Sarah poured coffee for Emily and tea for Tara, and they sat at the kitchen table to wait for the timer to go off. Lolly woke then and Tara was about to excuse herself to go breast feed.
“Don’t go on my account,” she told her. “You certainly won’t offend me if you stay.”
Tara looked at Sarah for permission, then sat down at the table to feed Lolly.
“I think Tara is a natural cook,” Emily told Sarah. “She’s got that folding technique without any coaching from me.”
“Tara is a natural at many things, not least of all, being a wonderful mom to Lolly.”
Tara’s cheeks colored. “I’m grateful to have this place and these people. It could have worked out much differently. For both of us.”
Emily sipped her coffee. “I know how that feels. When I left England for America, I really had no idea if it would work out. I was alone in a strange place with only my wits and a few US dollars. But I managed to find a place to settle, make friends, and find a job. But it was really the friends who sustained me. The job made me money. But my friends, and the supper club… that was my refuge when things were hard. You’ll find your way.”
“I do like to cook, when I get the chance. Like now,” she said quietly. “I’ve been kind of watching Mr. Nevers, the new ranch chef, secretly—but he doesn’t like me to be in there while he’s cooking. All the same, I think he might need a sous chef. He’s kind of a nervous cook. Not like you, Emily.”
“Nervous, how?” Sarah asked.
“Just a feeling. He kind of… talks to himself. And not in a nice way.” She bent her head down to the baby and kissed her head. “I could give him a hand if you want me to. You know, chopping things up for him? Maybe take some of the pressure off him?”
“I think that’s a great idea. But I’d have to pass it by Mr. Nevers. And Emily, what about you? Will you keep cooking for your friends in New York City?”
She explained her visa situation and how soon she’d have to leave the US.
“I’m sorry to hear that. But if the visa wasn’t an issue, say, and you could do anything you wanted, what would that be?” Sarah asked.
At Emily’s wide-eyed look, she quickly said, “Oh, I’m sorry, that was quite nosy of me.”
“No, no.” Emily touched her arm gently. “It’s not. It’s a good question, actually. Not one I usually give myself permission to consider. If nothing stood in my way, you mean? My first thought is a Wall Street job. Like the one I had. Only better. It’s what I’ve been working so hard for so long. But when I take a step back and think about how… unhappy that job made me, well…” She leaned in. “Secretly, I’ve always dreamed of starting a kind of seasonal supper club with other women who love cooking, too. Where we’d make elevated food, experiment with recipes. Invitation only and use the best ingredients. It’s been done, I think, uniquely, but… yeah… that’s just a silly dream.”
Sarah toyed with her coffee cup. “It’s only silly if you don’t truly believe in it. Or try it. Right?”
“I suppose. I’ve never actually told anyone that before. But it’s neither here nor there. I have to return to London. And there, my father would never approve.”
“I see.”
Emily laughed sadly. “I know how that sounds. I’m a grown woman. But you don’t know my father. And that sort of thing just isn’t done in our family.”
“My dear,” Sarah said gently, “life throws a thousand choices at you all at once. Sorting through all of them is the hardest thing we ever do.”
She decided she liked Sarah, more than just because, clearly, she was a good mother—with all four of her children still close to her—but because she was a kind person. Nonjudgmental in a way Emily could only imagine her domineering father could never be.
They sat and sipped their coffee, talked about the Montana spring about to bloom outside the window and the number of cattle that were dropping calves in every pasture. Tara said how she had adopted a shivering barn kitten and brought it into her apartment out at the barn on a particularly cold night, and now it had settled itself onto her pillow beside her at night. She seemed quite pleased with the arrangement. And Emily remembered Liam talking about all of their barn cats.
Lolly had finished nursing and Emily stared longingly at her.
“Do you want to hold her?” Tara asked.
“Oh.” She hadn’t expected that. “May I?”
“Of course.”
A bit awkwardly, she took the baby in her arms, and Lolly folded herself against her shoulder as if they were old friends. She was warm and wiggly and she smelled—Emily inhaled deeply— delicious . “Oh,” she groaned, “My ovaries…”
Sarah and Tara both laughed sympathetically.
“Hello, little darling,” she murmured against Lolly’s hair. You are enough to make a girl rethink her entire existence.
Lolly burped loudly and Emily laughed. She had to admire Tara for doing this whole baby thing on her own. Single parenting was not for the faint of heart. But the sweet smell of Lolly alone was enough to tempt Emily to imagine it.
Then again, she simultaneously—and out of the blue—imagined having a child with Liam. She could almost picture him as a dad, a doting, wonderful father.
Stop. Just stop, Emily.
She thought of the half dozen of her girlfriends in New York who’d had babies in the last few years, complete with baby showers, brises, and birthday parties. Emily had attended them all with all the onesies, rattles and gift boxes of diapers she’d bought. But she was an outsider to all that. Removed, in a way. The old adage was true that friendships shifted when children came, and she’d found herself pulling away from all that, diving deeper into work, out of… what? Self-preservation? Determination to prove she didn’t need to have a child to prove she was worthy? And worthy to whom?
She stroked Lolly’s velvet-soft cheek.
It wasn’t that she’d always put children at the center of her life goals. She hadn’t. She was career first, children maybe someday . But as she got older, as she did things like this—holding Lolly against her and getting doused with that baby smell, her little fist holding her finger, Emily wondered if something was shifting in her as well. Maybe someday meant the clock inside her had begun to tick and soon, she’d have to choose which side of the fence she would plant herself on. Maybe someday might mean the world did not, in fact, revolve around her own struggle to climb the ladder, but in opening herself to moments like this. Places like this. People who mattered.
But all this… it was only a moment. It wasn’t real life.
A rush of emotion threatened to erupt from her eyes, and she shoved that image right out of her mind. This, right here, was the danger of holding a new baby. It shoved reason and practicality out the window.
She handed Lolly back to Tara. “She’s perfect. Thank you. Now… I’d better check on those cakes.”
In the end, it was the Goldilocks scenario of cakes. But they all looked delicious and the whole house smelled of chocolate. They oohed and ahhed over the cakes for a moment.
“I believe,” Emily declared, “my job is done here. You are both officially hired as chocolatiers.”
As Tara stared in awe of her finished product, Ray appeared from the living room, following his nose.
“Tell me we get to eat whatever that amazing smell is coming from,” he said, kissing Sarah on the top of her head.
She hugged him back. “You not only get to eat it, you get to eat it whenever you want because Emily has taught us how to bake it!”
“Bless you, my child,” Ray said, kissing his fingertips and blowing her a kiss. “Not that Sarah isn’t already the best cook I know.”
“Oh, you!” she teased, hugging his arm. “That’s only because you have nothing to compare it to. I can see now why Liam came back from New York, raving about Emily’s food.”
Ray chuckled, kissing Sarah warmly on the cheek. “Yes, he did. But it wasn’t only all about her food.”
Emily blushed and Tara put a finger to her lips in a silent signal to Sarah and Ray.
“She’s right.” Sarah straightened. “We are not here to influence. Only… encourage. Right, Ray?”
“Correct.” He looked at his watch. “Darling, you know we’re supposed to meet with the happy couple, Sue and Gerald in twenty minutes, right?” He raised his graying eyebrows in a comically wiggly way. There seemed to be a twinkle in his eye as well. “Our old friends, Sue and Gerald Kowalski, who are renewing their vows here this weekend.”
She gave Ray’s hand a squeeze.
“Don’t worry,” Tara said. “I’ll clean up here. You two go and take care of your friends. Maybe they’d like some cake.”
“Yes,” Sarah said, “because if I eat it all, I’ll never fit into my—” she stopped as if remembering something—“my maid of honor dress today at Lisa’s Married in Marietta . So, you all are on your own for the afternoon.”
Tara glanced sideways at her. “I think we can manage. Unless you want a second opinion picking out a—”
“No, no. They’re all picked. Just fittings. Anyway,” she went on, hugging Ray’s arm, “we’re off to meet with the Kowalskis. Thanks again for the lesson, Emily.”
“Of course. And I should get back to my place, too.”
Ray smiled and winked at her before they left the room and Emily turned to Tara.
“That was weird,” Tara said. “Did you find that weird?”
“I… don’t really know them well enough to say,” Emily told her. “But they are quite adorable together, aren’t they?”
“Adorable. And weird. Maybe it’s just because he’s feeling so much better now that his chemo is done and he’s fully in remission. That must be it.”
Ray, she had heard, had left prison with cancer. And it had taken some convincing to get him started on new treatments. He had given up on himself and any hope of fixing things with the woman he’d quietly loved for more than a decade, Sarah Hardesty. But she’d been widowed while Ray was in prison, and now they’d put past troubles behind them. Or so Liam had said. There was some other complicated past regarding the whole relationship that she wasn’t privy to, but perhaps it was none of her business. They looked happy. That was all that really mattered.
“Anyway,” Tara said. “You go on. I’ll clean up here.”
They had made quite a mess in the kitchen. “You sure? I can—”
“Definitely.”
“But perhaps I can take a bit of this cake back with me? Would that be alright then?”
“Of course. It’s all yours.”
She gave her a hug and packed up a large piece of cake in a Tupperware container. “Brilliant. Thanks, then. See you later. Cheerio.”
“Uh… Rice Krispies!” she shot back with a grin.
Emily laughed as she headed outside in the cool Montana afternoon.
*
Shay and Liam were in the round barn, putting the finishing touches on the lights for the wedding vow renewal ceremony for the Kowalskis. Shay had done her usual magic with the place, despite the couple’s request to keep it simple.
They had spent most of the fall remodeling the round barn, an old, historic structure on the ranch that had been converted into a wedding venue, complete with a loft and staircase for brides to descend. But the rusticness of the barn remained, with beautiful beams and insulated cream-colored plaster walls. There was a new kitchen designed for catering and their new chef was in the kitchen, preparing some food already for tomorrow’s reception.
“I wouldn’t have taken Sue Kowalski for the simple type,” Shay noted as she strung the last of the mini lights around the stairway rail. “She seems more like give-me-all-the-bling type.
Sue and their mom, Sarah, had been best friends for years—more sisters from another mother friends. They’d been through thick and thin together and Sue’s marriage had held together far better than Sarah’s had. They had a home in Las Vegas and one here in Montana that she spent springs and summers in, though they were returning for this ceremony early.
Liam lifted the last of the folding white chairs into place for the ceremony before starting with the covers. “Maybe all that Vegas bling has gotten old. Maybe she just wants a real Montana ceremony.”
“I guess.” Shay side-eyed him. “What about you? I saw your truck parked outside her cabin this morning. Got anything you want to share with me, little brother?”
“Nope.”
She nodded, expecting as much. “Whatever. I’m happy for you. For now.”
He flinched at her words. “I’m working on it.”
“Better work fast is what I hear. You know, if it’s just the green card that’s messing things up, I’ve heard of people marrying for them.”
He straightened the aisle of chairs with more than adequate precision. He didn’t want to talk about this with Shay. Or anyone besides Emily. He’d woken this morning feeling as if waking up beside her was the most natural thing in the world. But he also knew she was determined to go back home, find her life again in England. A quickie green-card marriage was not what he wanted with her.
“I haven’t told anyone yet,” Shay said, bringing the first armload of chair covers over to lay them on a nearby chair. “But Cooper asked me to marry him. I said, what took you so long?” She pulled the pretty diamond engagement ring attached to the gold chain around her neck from under her blouse.
“What? That’s fantastic, Shay. I’m really happy for you both. No surprise to anyone, however. Seriously. We all knew it would happen from day one.”
“No, you didn’t. Cooper and I hardly spoke for the first few weeks he was here.”
“Only because you’re so stubborn.”
She shrugged. “True. But… I had Ryan to think about and this ranch.” She sent him a bittersweet smile. “It all worked out in the end. But I wish it hadn’t taken us ten years.”
“Timing is everything. Things work out when they’re supposed to, I think. But why the secret?”
“It’s not really a secret. But I have a feeling Ray is going to propose any minute to Mom, and I don’t want to steal his thunder. We’re just waiting until the time is right. That’s all.”
They heard the sound of an electric golf cart stopping outside the barn and looked up to see Emily walking through the door. As if their conversation had conjured her.
“Hey—” he said, unable to disguise his pleasure at seeing her.
“Hi, yourself. I hope I’m not interrupting you or getting in your way. Hi, Shay.”
“Hi, Emily. We were just talking about you.”
“Oh? Were you hoping I was going to bring you a piece of the flourless chocolate cake I just whipped up in your mom’s kitchen?” She proffered the Tupperware container and popped off the top.
“Stop it.” Liam’s mouth watered.
“Uh, yes, please,” Shay said. “I can find a knife.”
Then, like a golden retriever following his nose at the scent of food, Gary Nevers poked his head out of the kitchen, pulling his earbuds out of his ears with annoyance. “All this chatter in here is distracting me.”
They all went quiet, unsure what to say. Finally, Emily held up the Tupperware. “We’re sorry. Cake?”
Nevers narrowed a look at her, then at the cake. “Yours?”
She nodded.
“Well… since my concentration is already blown… I might as well. What’s the harm now?”
“I don’t think you’ll be sorry,” Liam said, cutting the cake and sliding pieces onto paper towels to serve.
“Inelegant,” Nevers complained. “Presentation is ninety-five percent.”
“Oh,” Liam said, “I think you’ll find it’s the other way around.” He took a bite and moaned with pleasure. It was everything he remembered and more. It practically melted in his mouth. “Wow. Mmm-mm.”
Emily smiled.
“Wha—” Shay moaned around a bite. “This is—Oh my goodness!”
Nevers took a bite and Liam watched Emily hold her breath. He considered it as he chewed, tilting a nod, but his face remained neutral. “It’s not… bad.”
“I think you mean it’s excellent, don’t you?” Liam faced him.
Nevers frowned and took another bite. “I’ve had worse. No, it’s quite good. But a little raspberry coulis and whipped cream would—”
“Oh, you’re quite right about that,” Emily said. “I would surely do that if I were serving this at home. But I’m afraid it’s just the bare, naked essentials today. He’s quite right.”
Nevers glanced at the Hardestys, both of whom were daring him to say more. “No, it’s well done. Good technique. Where did you train?”
“Train? I… I didn’t. I’m just a cook. Self-taught.”
“And one of the best I’ve ever tasted,” Liam said. “Her cake just hints at how good she is at everything else.”
Emily, far from looking chagrined, was not intimidated by this guy. At all.
“In fact,” he went on, “she made one of the best meals I’ve ever had in my life in New York.”
“I’m no Michelin-star chef though,” she said. “I can’t wait to taste your food, Mr. Nevers.”
He polished off the last bite and crumpled up his paper towel. “Forgive me. It’s an old habit of mine to be critical of others’ work. Your cake was as fine as any I’ve made. I do hate to admit that.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Now, I’d better get back to what I was doing, if I can reclaim my concentration. That cake should help.” He flashed her a quick smile and retreated to the kitchen.
The three of them barely contained their chuckles once he was gone.
“There you go,” Liam said. “High praise from a real master chef. Even if we did have to wring it out of him.”
“I’m perfectly fine with what I do, and I honestly didn’t need his approval. But thank you for doing the wringing. Your chef seems a bit like the Tin Man in need of a bit of lubrication.”
“Or a drink. But thank you for the cake. It was as incredible as I knew it would be. What did you think, Shay?”
“What? Oh. Excuse me. I might be slipping into a chocolate coma. It was that good.”
“Hey,” Emily said, “if you need help with the seat covers, I’ll be glad to give you a hand. Especially if that means you’ll take me horseback riding before dark.”
“That can be arranged. But you don’t have to—”
“I want to. Let’s just knock it out.”
Shay glanced sideways at him and gave him a wink.
*
They rode up to the Yellowstone River as the afternoon light began to fade, but they left in plenty of time to be back before dark. He’d put her on a paint gelding named Shawnee, who seemed to know the trail by heart and followed behind Liam’s horse without a problem.
The ranch was just as beautiful from the ground as it had been by air, and they took their time, wandering along the banks of the river until Liam pulled up and they dismounted near a stand of winter-bare aspen and willow trees.
Down this low, the river had thawed completely and in the deep pools they could see trout swimming just below the surface. As the horses cropped up the grass sprouting through the dead winter thatch, she and Liam sat on the sun-warmed rocks overlooking the water.
“Just checking,” she said. “You did bring the bear spray.”
He patted the can attached to his belt. And the pistol on his hip. There was even a rifle tucked in the scabbard on his saddle. “I come prepared for all the things.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her against him. “You handled Nevers well. I was getting ready to fire him.”
“What? For a critique? No, I’ve dealt with lots of male egos in my time. His is nothing special.”
“You think I have one?”
“I would hope so. You’re just more discriminating on how you display it. An ego is a healthy thing. But there are limits to its power.”
“You have anyone in mind when you say that?”
“Oh, I can name a few.” Her father. Her brother… “Take… for instance… that hawk up there.” She pointed to the red-shouldered hawk sailing on an air current about the ruffling water. “He knows he’s well equipped for catching those fish in the river. It means his survival. He’s got the claws and eyes, the wings, and even his mastery of the air. He doesn’t really doubt any of that. It just is. But put another hawk in his airspace, and all that confidence turns into something else. Possessiveness. He’s suddenly irrational, defending his territory. His hunting prowess. And when two hawks collide, they often get locked into a death spiral, unable to disentangle themselves from one another. Maybe they fall in the river and drown. Or die hitting the ground. Mr. Nevers was merely protecting his territory. Mistakenly, since I have no intention to invade.”
“You could probably cook circles around him.”
She laughed. “We are two very different sorts of cooks. My food has always been more about love than… achievement.”
“Yeah? Love?” He rubbed his fingers against her shoulder.
She tipped her head against his. “It really was my only motivation. Love for my friends. Love of food and making it. It was never about competing, which was a very nice break from what the rest of my life looked like.”
“Do you miss it?”
“Wall Street? I suppose I do. Not at this moment. But I was good at what I did there. And it made me a lot of money. But it’s mostly the people I’ll miss.”
He got quiet then and stared out over the water. “I wish…”
She nudged him. “What?”
“I wish we had more time.”
“I know.” She wished there was more time as well. But the clock was already ticking away.
He got to his feet and pulled her up beside him. He kissed her with the sun sinking slowly behind the mountains and she felt her heart sink along with it.
It was then she noticed the truck parked up on the road a quarter of a mile away with a man sitting inside, watching them. She could have sworn she saw him pointing something out the window before tucking it back inside when she saw him. A gun? A… long-lensed camera? But then, she probably just imagined it, because the truck pulled away a moment later.
“Did you see that?” she asked Liam.
“What?”
She stared after the retreating truck. “Nothing.”
“We’d better get back before dark.”
She nodded and they got back on the horses and headed home.