Chapter Seven
Madison
As soon as Kyle walked out in a trail of his spicy, heady, woodsy scent, Madison collapsed down onto a stool and stared at something that looked vaguely like a big deep fryer, except it didn’t have oil in it.
What on earth is a sous vide machine?
She eyed the other equipment, feeling very out of her element among the other professional cooking apparatuses. Apparati?
She glanced at the large clock on the wall and noted that it was now five o’clock and she needed to get a move on if she was going to come up with something by six or six-thirty.
She searched the room, finally finding a clipboard on the wall near a phone and intercom. She flipped through the pages, seeing menus and notes by the other cook, but the supper boxes were left blank.
She went to one of the refrigerators and found only dairy products and some drinks. The second one held a variety of fruits and vegetables, along with snack foods. The last one was full of meat.
They had a designated fridge for meat.
She stared at the hoard for a moment before pulling out about ten pounds of steaks. They were thick and beautifully cut and expensive. She took them to a worktop near the sink and unwrapped them, then laid them out on a silicone mat before washing her hands and seasoning them liberally with salt and pepper.
Rob had enjoyed a good steak and it had taken her an embarrassingly long time to learn how to grill a good one. She’d finally gotten it though, and now she could turn one out with her eyes closed.
She was going to assume they like them cooked rare. She could always throw them back on the grill if they preferred otherwise. After the meat was left to rest, she went out on the patio to start the gas grill.
She let it heat while she went back in and pulled more food out onto the clean counter. She scrubbed potatoes, buttered and salted them, and put them in the oven directly on the rack. It would be close, but she thought she could have them done right about the time supper needed to be served.
She found herself humming as she cleaned and sliced the mushrooms for the steaks and then the lettuce for the salad. She was looking for more fresh vegetables to put in it when she heard a noise behind her.
She whirled around and let out an embarrassing squeak as the largest man she’d ever seen in person glowered at her from the patio doorway. His glare was direct and his jaw was firm. She dropped the hand that had sprung up over her heart, wanting to calm the frantic racing.
His hair was wavy and stringy with sweat. His beard was a shade darker and did nothing to make him look gentle. He wore no shirt and that made him even more intimidating. He was covered with sweat and had dirt streaked over his skin. Tattoos and scars marked his body like a strange painting.
She looked away quickly and cleared her throat.
“Can I…help you?” she stammered out, wondering if he was some kind of crazed ax murderer.
He stomped inside and she surreptitiously pressed herself against the fridge as he passed her in a haze of sweat, sun, and, most perplexingly, ripe tomatoes.
He put a box on the counter and turned to her, raising his chin. “Tomatoes,” he rumbled.
He seemed to be waiting for something, so she mustered her courage and crept forward. Before she thought better of it, she reached her hand out into the air between them.
He glared down at it before returning his eyes to her face.
“I’m Madison,” she said, trying to remember that she was a grown woman with four kids.
She might be a bit timid sometimes, but she wasn’t a coward. She wouldn’t be able to work here if she couldn’t even greet a new person respectfully.
Finally, he brushed his hand on his pants and took hers, shaking it gently. “Murdock.”
He let go as soon as he could.
She stood on tiptoes and leaned over to look in the box. Beautifully ripe red tomatoes sat in a neat pile. They were clean and free of blemishes, and it was obvious that whoever had grown them knew what they were doing. The bugs hadn’t gotten them and there weren’t any sunspots or blossom rot.
“Oh, those look wonderful! Thank you,” she said, smiling at the big man.
He ducked his head, tossed a brown paper bag on the counter, and left just as suddenly as he had shown up.
She began pulling out the tomatoes, wondering if he was one of the wounded servicemembers this place accommodated. When the box was empty she opened the sack and pulled out a carefully wrapped bundle of herbs. There was a large bunch of basil and a bit of parsley. She put it near her face and breathed deeply of the wonderfully fresh scents before finishing her task.
She pulled out a stick of butter to soften. She would make parsley butter to put on the steaks.
She completed the salad, covered it, and placed it in the fridge before beginning Helen’s mother’s bread pudding. She made three pans of it, popped them into one of the ovens, and hoped that was enough. She was going to need to remember that she was cooking in bulk and adjust accordingly.
She took the mushrooms out to the grill to cook. On the way back in she had an idea for some of the tomatoes and went straight to the dairy fridge. She had to shuffle some things around, but in the back, she found a large container of fresh mozzarella.
She pulled a platter from the cabinet overhead and while she sliced the tomatoes and the cheese, she thought about Emmie.
She shouldn’t have. It had been an hour and a half since she fed her last and the letdown sensation had her worrying that Emmie was hungry. Helen had eight ounces of milk for her, but was it enough?
Every time she left the kids, she worried about them, especially James and the baby. They were the most vulnerable and needed the most supervision. Helen was fantastic and attentive, but she was older, and with this new second job, she hoped the woman wouldn’t become overwhelmed.
She arranged the mozzarella on the tomato slices and seasoned it with fresh basil and a sprinkling of good balsamic vinegar she’d found in the pantry. The side dish was ready and her nerves finally began to settle.
She even started to enjoy cooking, something that she hadn’t really been able to do for a while. With her limited budget for food, there were only so many creative ways to cook up chicken, beans, and rice before it lost some of its glamour.
She took the steaks and a clean platter out to the grill and then checked on the mushrooms.
Movement in the forest behind the chalet caught her attention.
As she timed the steaks, two men came sprinting out of the tree line, both racing for the house like their shoes were on fire. Their arms were pumping and their feet were grinding into the dirt and propelling them forward. Muscles bulged and gleamed and a sudden desire to just sit and watch took her by surprise.
One of them was dressed in almost scandalously short shorts, but when they got closer she realized it was the one who held her hand too long when she’d first arrived. Wyatt Evans.
Not surprising.
The other man was Kyle and she thought she was going to catch fire as he passed Wyatt again and sprinted toward the house, the clear winner of their impromptu race.
He was smiling and time seemed to stretch out as she watched him.
His abs flexed and worked in perfect harmony with his arms and legs. His chest was larger than it had looked under a shirt and his thighs were the size of tree trunks.
Her face burned and she felt her heart flutter and her palms begin to sweat.
She took a sip of water and turned away as she heard the steak sizzling, ashamed of herself for openly ogling her boss.
She was as bad as Wyatt.
“Is that steak I smell?” Wyatt asked, stopping for a moment and staring at her like he’d struck gold.
She tore her gaze away from Kyle, who was now walking in circles, cooling down.
“Yep, but you can’t have any until you go get cleaned up,” she said before she could think twice about opening a dialogue with him.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather—”
“Wyatt!” Kyle thundered, stopping behind him and breathing heavily. “In the house.”
“Awww, Dad,” he griped, before running off with a wink at Madison.
“Sorry about that,” Kyle said, resting his arms on the porch railing.
“That’s okay,” she said. “There wasn’t a menu for this evening, so I hope steak is okay,” she worried.
“Steak is perfect,” he assured her. “I’ll go get cleaned up so I can have some,” he said with a little smirk.
She found herself smiling like an idiot long after he left.
∞∞∞
She rang the chime to signal dinner and carried the platters out to the buffet in the dining room. The potatoes had ended up taking the longest, and they were scorching hot as she took them out with tongs.
Her first meal for the chalet sat steaming and vibrant and waiting to be eaten. She hoped it tasted as good as it looked.
Strangely, though she hadn’t ever really liked cooking overly much, she had really enjoyed the evening. It felt good to prepare meals for someone other than picky little kids who only wanted hot dogs and macaroni and cheese.
The steaks sat in their melting pools of parsley butter near the dish of grilled mushrooms, the salted potatoes waited for the toppings placed nearby, and the tomatoes brought in by Murdock gleamed vividly under the smattering of bright green basil and rich aged vinegar. The fresh salad loaded with vegetables waited with tongs.
The only thing left was to serve the bread pudding and ice cream, then clean up and go home.
She stacked the plates and silverware on the sideboard, unsure of the protocol. Did they serve themselves or was she supposed to do it?
She waited near the buffet with her hands clasped loosely in front of her to hide their trembling.
The first man who came in was someone she had never met. He took in all the food like a starving man and then gave her such a look of adoration that she smiled.
“Marry me,” he said, moving in on the steaks. “Or at least vow to never leave us. We were almost dead of starvation before you showed up.”
She chuckled. “I’m Madison,” she said, offering him her hand.
“John Conner, I’m Kyle’s right-hand man,” he said seriously.
“Then what does Wyatt do?” she asked.
“He’s the village idiot,” he quipped and she burst out laughing.
“Honestly, I’m surprised he isn’t here right now, trying to lure you into a closet somewhere,” John said, sneaking a mushroom after checking to make sure nobody was coming.
“Uh, he already tried that. Kyle shooed him away,” she said uncertainly.
“Good,” John said absently. “Let me know if he doesn’t let up. I know how to hide bodies.”
She smiled, feeling more at ease since she’d shown up. She liked John and his easy manner. He didn’t make her feel uncomfortable or afraid.
“So, how does this work? Do you all make up your own plates, or should I serve…”
“We’re all pretty capable when we want to be. We’ve perfected the art of walking while carrying and other advanced tasks,” he deadpanned.
She blushed. “I just didn’t know how formal it was supposed to be, or if anyone would have trouble getting their own food because…” She waved her hand to encompass the place.
“Oh, because of the wounded?” he asked and she nodded.
“Well, we’ve only got one guest right now, Aiden—his legs were blown off and he’s got some scars on his face, but he’s capable of getting his own food. Unless you’re offering?” he asked, hopefully.
She smiled. “Waitressing will cost you extra, besides, I think you guys got it handled. Let me know if you need more steak sauce or anything else,” she said, retreating to the kitchen before the rest of the guys showed up.
She felt oddly nervous and embarrassed about staying while they ate the food. She supposed it was because she’d never cooked for anyone but her family.
What if it wasn’t any good? Would Kyle pay her for the evening before kicking her out?
She cleaned up the kitchen, tense and anxious, while the dining room became raucous and full of laughter…and then…oddly silent.
She gripped a spoon in a tight fist before quickly washing it in the soapy water.
She’d eyed the contraption in the corner that Kyle claimed was a dishwasher, then decided to do the dishes by hand. She was finishing up when she felt someone looking at her.
She turned, dragging her hands out of the water and wiping them on her apron. Kyle was leaning against the doorframe, looking at her with a serious expression.
“You said you were a chef,” he said, pushing off and moving farther into the room.
Her heart dropped and she felt her breathing coming faster. This was it. He knew.
She said nothing, just waited for the yelling or the cold dismissal.
“That,” he said, pointing toward the dining room, “was a damned miracle.”
She jumped at his vehemence and then the smile that overtook his face dragged a short muffled exclamation from her. She felt like her heart was about to pound out of her chest at his nearness and his words.
“Does that mean I have the job?” she asked, hand covering her racing heart.
“Are you serious? There is no way I’d let you leave without promising to come back and feed us tomorrow,” he said, lips twitching.
She smiled at his joke. “I’m glad. I’m almost finished here and then I have to be getting home.”
“Your husband must be missing you sorely right about now,” he teased, implying that her food was just that good.
She frowned, confused until she remembered that she still wore her wedding ring. She twisted it and then chuckled self-consciously. She didn’t correct him.
She didn’t know why she didn’t, but she didn’t. Perhaps she didn’t want to see the pity on his face, or maybe she just didn’t want to talk about Rob to this man.
She wanted Kyle separate from her ill-fated marriage.
She also didn’t want to let anything slip about the children. She didn’t want him to think she wouldn’t be able to do the job properly.
“Well…oh, dessert is right over there on that cart. It’s bread pudding and it’s still warm. There’s vanilla ice cream in the freezer that will be amazing with it. Would you like me to bring it out for you?” she asked, bringing the conversation back into safe territory.
“No. You go ahead and finish up here and get home. I can take it out there. The guys all loved the meal. It’s the best we’ve had in a long time,” he said seriously.
“Alright, then. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” she said.
“Yep. Come as early as you need and let me know if there is something you need to add to the shopping list.”
“Okay,” she said, gathering her purse to her chest. “I’ll just go then.”
He dug in his pocket and pulled out a key. “Feel free to pull right on back here tomorrow. That parking place near the patio is yours. Here”s a key to the kitchen door. Drive safely.”
He was placing a significant amount of trust in her, and it made her feel worse than she already did, but she managed to nod and get out without blurting out the truth.
On her way out, she saw the scarred and brooding young man sitting in his wheelchair near the window. She smiled at him as she passed and he gave her a single nod, watching her warily as she left.
She looked back in the mirror after she turned the car around.
Kyle had brought him a bowl of dessert, and he looked to be enjoying it. It lifted her spirits a little that she could bring him a small amount of happiness, even if it was just food.