Chapter Two
Surveying the restaurant’s interior, Quinn wiped sweat from his forehead. The new windows caught the morning light, illuminating freshly painted walls and restored wooden beams. The kitchen equipment was due next week—top-of-the-line ovens, cook tops, freezers, prep stations, the works. All chosen with the approval of the new chef.
The Tuckers Bluff city council had finally narrowed the candidates down to two before picking the winner over a week ago. And not soon enough if you were to ask him. Quinn would have preferred having the kitchen fully functional by now, but that wouldn’t happen until all the appliances arrived.
Morgan’s voice carried from outside. “Sisters incoming.”
Quinn looked through the window to see Sister and Sissy heading their way, their shadows stretching across Main Street. He almost chuckled. One as wide as tall and the other looked more like a tree stretching across the street. From the day he hit West Texas, the two siblings, owners of the Sisters boutique in Tucker’s Bluff and the former bordello, now a bed and breakfast in Sadieville, never ceased to surprise him. The scent of Molly’s food truck wafted through the open door—whoever ran the new restaurant was going to have stiff competition from Molly.
“Quinnnnn!” Sister’s 50s style beehive blonde hairdo, as big and wide as she was, preceded her through the doorway. “Tell me the council shared more about the new chef to y’all.”
Sissy, the other sibling, sported red hair and stood almost a head taller than her sister and rail-thin to boot. The two ducked under a ladder where Ryan was touching up trim. “Frankly, I don’t understand what the big secret is. Unless they’ve hired Gordon Ramsey—”
“Lord forbid,” her sister cut her off.
Sissy rolled her eyes at her sister. “Honestly, what do they think keeping the head chef’s name and details a secret will do?”
Considering these two women as well as his aunt Eileen and the rest of the Tuckers Bluff Afternoon Social Club were usually the first to know anything and everything about everyone in town, not knowing this must be killing them. All Quinn could do was shrug.
“Well,” Sister huffed, “at least we have the B&B all spruced up. We want Sadieville to make a good impression. We’ve put him in the Violet Room—best view of the sunrise.” She rocked on the balls of her feet and sighed. “So, they didn’t tell you anything more about him at all?”
Quinn checked his watch. The crew would be breaking for lunch about now, but he suspected he wouldn’t be going anywhere until the sisters got some answers. Too bad he didn’t have what they wanted. “All I know is that the chef’s due in three days. And before you ask, no, I don’t know anything else except he’s from Chicago.”
“Chicago!” Sister clutched her chest. “Oh, I do hope he likes our sleepy little town.”
“Now now, Sister, don’t get your pearls in a cluster. I’m sure the town wouldn’t have chosen a big city chef if they didn’t have good reason for wanting to live in dusty West Texas.”
“I sure hope you’re right.” Sister spun around to face Quinn and his brothers. “We’re supposed to meet your aunt Eileen for lunch, but she called to say Connor needed her to baby-sit last minute. You boys taking a break for lunch?”
Morgan stepped to the fore front. “Yes, ma’am.”
Grabbing his hat from the hook by the door, Quinn slapped it against his thigh and nodded. The production crew had stopped filming as soon as the sisters came to the door. Now most of the crew was halfway across the street, the smell of whatever Molly was cooking up calling to everyone like a siren’s song.
At the truck, Molly looked up from the window, a lock of curly hair escaping its bandana. “What can I get you boys today?”
To his delight, Molly’s famous brisket tacos and fried mac and cheese were on the menu. “My usual.”
Molly smiled at him. “Better give you your fill. Once the restaurant opens, you may not be so hungry.”
“Now Molly,” Sister patted her hand, “you know your food truck is an institution. Not everyone wants a sit-down restaurant.”
“Besides,” Sissy added, “different clientele entirely. You feed these hardworking men their lunch.” She winked at Quinn. “The restaurant will be for tourists who want to pretend they’re dining in the Old West.”
Quinn accepted his lunch from Molly. Ever since her heart attack not too long ago, folks in town had been worried she worked too hard. Staying open late, some nights really late, so that the crews could eat when filming ran long had to be hard on her. He thought that maybe that was one of the reasons the town council and the production company agreed to move the restaurant up, instead of doing the spa or another building on Main Street.
Savoring their lunch, there was plenty of oohs, aahs, yums, and finger licking.
“I hope whoever the new chef is that the menu is as good as Molly’s.” Morgan wiped his mouth. “Because if it is, this town’s going to be inundated with tourists.”
“And townsfolk from Tuckers Bluff,” Sister added, her expression turning contrite, facing the brothers. “Not that the Farraday pub and town café in Tuckers Bluff aren’t good places to eat, but you know what they say about variety—.”
Her sister cut her off, finishing her sentence. “It’s the spice of life.”
Excusing himself from the picnic table they’d all been seated at, Quinn headed back to work, catching fragments of conversation floating on the breeze—speculation about the new chef, plans for welcome baskets, debates about proper Texas hospitality. He had no idea what all the fuss was about. The new chef was arriving shortly, the appliances would be installed soon after, and then the restaurant would open. What was the big deal?
“Did you get the new appointment schedule?” Eloise pressed her phone closer to her ear, trying to hear Danny over the airport announcements.
“Third time you’ve asked, Sis.” His voice was steady—a good sign. “Three more weeks of therapy, then Dr. Marshall will authorize the transfer of my care to the VA clinic in Midland. She says it’s actually got a great PTSD program.”
If only he hadn’t had that last episode, the VA might have approved him to transfer in time to leave with her. Eloise watched a young family struggle past with too much luggage. “And you’ll be okay in the apartment alone? Mrs. Kowalski next door said—”
“El.” Danny’s tone held the echo of the big brother he used to be. “I’ve got this. The city’s not going to break me. Not with an end date in sight.” A pause. “Besides, if you want your deposit back, that crusty old landlady likes me better than you.”
She smiled despite the knot in her stomach. “Maybe, but remember…”
“I know. Three more weeks. The movers will come and pack up what’s left of the place. One night at the airport hotel, a flight to Midland, check in with the VA, then we’ll settle down in Hooterville.”
Again, it was so nice to hear her brother’s teasing sense of humor referring to that ancient retro TV show. “Sadieville.”
The gate agent’s voice cut through their conversation: “Now boarding Group two for flight 2247 to Midland, Texas.”
“That’s me.” Eloise gripped her carry-on. “I’ll call you when I land.”
“Hey El?” Danny’s voice softened. “Thanks. For finding us somewhere… quieter.”
Tears pricked at her eyes. “Love you, big brother.”
“Love you too, chef.”
Eloise tucked her phone away, joining the boarding line. Each step felt surreal, like she was walking into someone else’s life. Chicago’s morning rush hour was just ramping up outside the airport windows—horns honking, trains rumbling, the city awakening to its daily chaos. In a few hours, she’d be in Texas, where the only traffic might be the whispering sounds of tumbleweeds rolling through town. Lord she hoped it wasn’t really that bad. After all, she understood this was just the beginnings of a new tourist community, but hopefully it would be everything her brother needed.
The flight attendant scanned her boarding pass. “Seat 12A, on your left.”
Window seat. Perfect. Eloise stowed her bag and settled in, her mind already racing ahead. The production company’s car would meet her at Midland Airport. Then she’d be taken to her new home. In Sadieville. A ghost town. She didn’t know whether to laugh or take her temperature. She was moving to a literal ghost town.
The plane backed away from the gate, and Chicago’s skyline filled her window. Somewhere down there, Danny was probably doing his breathing exercises, focusing on the techniques that helped him cope with the urban assault on his senses. Three weeks. They just had to get through three more weeks apart.
The plane turned toward Texas, and Eloise closed her eyes. She’d packed her favorite knives in her checked bags, precious pieces of her Chicago life hand-washed, wrapped in cloth then bubble wrap and insured for as much as she was allowed. Doing her best to relax, not worry, embrace the change, her mind wandered to the first episode of Construction Cousins . Curious while waiting for her next interview with the Tuckers Bluff town council, she streamed the available episodes.
Impressed with the camaraderie between the brothers, their skill, and their craftsmanship, she found herself continually distracted by deep southern voices that settled over her as smoothly as a napoleon brandy. And then there was the jeans. Lord did those brothers know how to wear a pair of pants. Thank heaven she wasn’t going to be working up close and personal with any of the brothers, she’d lose all her fingers chopping her vegetables and trying not to watch them. She didn’t care whether or not she was caught on film, as long as it wasn’t eyeing the hunky hammer wielding cowboys. Yep, she had one mission, save her brother and stay away from the smooth-talking Construction Cousins.
Easy peasy.
The next thing she knew, the sound of the captain’s voice over the loudspeaker announcing their approach to the Midland-Odessa airport drew her out of a deep sleep. Maybe this was a good sign that for the first time in months, she was finally able to get some decent sleep, even in the uncomfortable seat of an airplane.
Her carryon flung over her shoulder, she exited the plane and followed the trail of passengers like ants to a picnic. By the carousel, her name sprawled across a cardboard sign caught her eye. Next phase of her journey had gone off without a hitch, she wasn’t stranded at the airport in the middle of nowhere. She would happily take this as a sign that she’d made the right choice.
In no time at all, her bags were in the trunk of the car and she was driving through oil country Texas to her new home. Just as she’d done on the plane, after miles of West Texas dirt, she’d grown bored with the scenery and fallen asleep. Not till the car bounced over uneven ground did she open her eyes. Ahead she could see the small town in the distance. It didn’t look like much, but it was blissfully quiet.
The car drove over a slight hump and the rest of the way to town was smooth concrete. She couldn’t help but wonder if road repair was on the to-do list for the Construction Cousins. In minutes, the sleek black SUV pulled up in front of a beautifully restored old building with white-washed shipboard, crisply painted shutters, and colorful pots painted with fresh flowers. To her surprise, the driver carried her bags down the front walkway. This was too large a house just for her. Maybe there was an upstairs apartment, or a guest house in the backyard.
No sooner had she stepped onto the curb than two women came scurrying out. “Welcome to the Parlor B&B.”
A little confused, Eloise muttered, “Hello.”
“Do you have a reservation?” the tall redhead asked. “If you don’t that’s just fine. We have plenty of rooms.”
“At least till next week,” the shorter blonde woman spoke up. “There’s a big group of Red Hat ladies coming to stay.”
All she could do was nod and smile. She was good at smiling, even when she had no idea what was going on. “I’m Eloise Carey, the chef for the town’s new restaurant.”
The two women’s brows rose high on their foreheads in precise synchronization before they turned to face each other, shrugged, then turning back sporting identical grins.
“We were expecting a man,” the blonde said.
“And aren’t you a nice surprise.” The redhead slipped her arm inside the crook of Eloise’s elbow and began walking.
Back home, Eloise would have gone into panic mode, but here, here she felt like she’d just been whisked away by a favorite grandmother.
“I’m sure you’re going to love it here,” the redhead continued. “We’ve given you the best room.”
“It has the nicest view.” The other woman hurried along at her side.
“Room?” Eloise mumbled. “You must be mistaken. The agreement called for an apartment.”
The two women leaned slightly forward, once again looking at each other before straightening and smiling at her.
The redhead must be the leader of the pack, because she spoke first. “I’m sure the misunderstanding will be straightened out soon enough, but for now, we’ll take very good care of you.”
She didn’t let her smile slip, and even though she believed every word the women said, especially about taking care of her, something deep in her gut told her that her good start had just taken a nose dive.