Chapter 7
AUTUMN
The slam of the screen door announces my arrival before I have a chance. But it’s the sweet smell of muffins that welcomes me home.
“Autumn?” My name streams from the kitchen along with the smell of the baked goodies.
“Fall?” one of my younger sisters yells from upstairs.
Dropping my bag on the floor at the base of the stairs, I call to both, “It’s me.”
My eyes are dragging as much as my feet. Holding the banister, I kick off my shoes.
Spring leans over the upstairs railing. “Do you have a dress I can borrow for tomorrow night?”
“Date, school event, going out with the girls, or—?”
“Date,” my youngest sister replies with her blond locks hanging over the wood with her. “First date specifically.”
I shuffle through my mind to remember the dresses in my closet. A lot goes missing and gets handed down with four women all basically the same size now. “I have a royal-blue eyelet dress that hits above the knee with puff sleeves that would look great on you and bring out your eyes.”
“Summer’s dress?” I don’t see my sister much since she’s working on her master’s at college just shy of two hours away, so I’m surprised to see her on a Friday morning.
“Yes. I never wear it because of the contrast with the color of my hair. Too much going on at once. Know what I mean? You can take it. Don’t you have class today?”
“No, and I wasn’t scheduled at work, so I came home.” Disappearing before she finishes, she adds, “Thanks for the dress.”
“You’re welcome.”
With the smell of muffins still wafting through the house, I follow the delicious scent into the kitchen. Sitting at the table when I enter, Dolly is so engaged in the book she doesn’t even look up. I spy the muffins cooling on the stovetop. “Good book?” I drop into a chair across from her.
Glancing up at me, she replies, “I’m about to find out.
” She smiles, closing it without any shame, though some might feel otherwise with the half-ripped bodice barely keeping the heroine’s breasts contained and the large bulge on display in the pants of the hero on the cover.
“The main characters are trapped in the captain’s cabin on a yacht.
” Leaning in, she whispers, “And he’s not the captain.
He’s a sexy deckhand on the run after being falsely accused of murder in the Mediterranean, but she doesn’t know it yet.
” Her giggle rings through the small room.
I laugh, grinning along with her. “Juicy indeed and good morning.”
“Good morning.” She pushes off the table to help lift herself. “I bet you’re hungry.”
“A little, but you don’t need to make anything for me.”
Grabbing a plate from the oven, she says, “I already did. It should still be warm. And I made your favorite, blueberry muffins, after the others left. Fresh from the oven. Eat up so you can rest well.” It’s tempting to argue that she shouldn’t have gone to the trouble, but my stomach growls, and I know she loves to take care of us by cooking our favorites. “You know what I always say—”
“One sleeps better with a happy heart and full stomach.”
Pride shines in her eyes, reflecting the smile on her face as she sets the plate and a fork in front of me. Moving back to the counter, she begins to wipe it down. “I was thinking about making a roast for dinner tonight.”
Another growl has me wanting to ease the hunger. I’m quick to stab at the scrambled eggs. “I love your roast, but I won’t be here. I go in earlier tonight. Don’t worry about me, though.” I take a big bite.
“I will always worry about you, Autumn, just like I still worry about Summer and now her husband and his son like they’re my own.”
Daniel and Roman became a big part of our family when Daniel and Summer got married. He’s traveling a lot for his hockey career, and Roman is with his mom in New York City and is now back in school, but they always fit right into our family of women as if they belong.
I mistakenly thought that would translate when I went on a few dates with one of his teammates.
I learned—the hard way, I might add—that Daniel and Roman are special.
Not everyone clicks with our family, but there was no chemistry between us either.
Dating has been put on the back burner since that debacle.
“I can send a container in with you to eat on your break.” She stands at the end of the small table we’ve squeezed into the kitchen.
“How was your shift?” Brandon comes to mind as if I were his personal nurse.
I mean . . . technically, I was his, along with two other patients, but living in technicalities is never a good thing.
Before I can reply, she sucks in a harsh breath.
“Oh, and how is Brandon doing? Still doing well? I ran a King Ranch chicken casserole over to his mother yesterday. She’s been worried sick and only got to see him for a few minutes the other night before he fell asleep again. ”
“Since everyone already knows the ins and outs of his hospital stay, he’s doing well but needs the rest. I hope she doesn’t worry too much.”
“He does, but that doesn’t stop a mother’s worry.” She pats my shoulder when she reaches for her book. “Or a Dolly’s.”
I catch her hand before it disappears from my shoulder, my heart clenching a wee bit. “Thank you for making me muffins.” She’s been through everything with us girls, and she's still here, taking care of grown women.
“You’re welcome, darling girl. So, back to Brandon, you feel that he is healing well?”
I take another bite because that’s the gratitude she wants to see—me eating.
And since I want to protect my patient’s privacy, I don’t usually talk about their conditions.
But everyone in Mountain Laurel Cove seems to already know what’s going on with Brandon Culver.
I was the only one left out of the loop.
“Remarkably well, in my opinion. I’m not a doctor—”
“You could be.” She swipes a muffin from the cooling tin and sets it on the edge of my plate. “That hospital doesn’t appreciate the asset you are to them.” Maneuvering toward the door, she smiles when she looks back. “But we sure do. And I know Brandon had the best care under you.”
“Thanks. His spirits are . . . well, you know Brandon.” The locals would call him charming. I consider him more of a suck-up. He knows just the thing to say to get his way.
“That’s good. I’ll say a prayer for him.” She pushes through the door, but before it can swing shut, she says, “Eat up and rest. The world needs that beautiful heart of yours functioning in top gear.”
I listen to the swoosh of the wood flowing from the hall into the kitchen and watch the door come to a standstill in its rightful place inside the frame. My grandmother’s steps, though lighter than my sisters’, can still be heard padding on the wood floors.
I take a large bite of muffin, the little blueberries buried like treasures in the sweet bread and bursting with flavor in my mouth. Sitting back, I savor it before finishing my food and cleaning the dishes I dirtied.
Exhaustion dragged me home, but my eyelids had become harder to keep open after the heavy meal.
Slipping out of the kitchen, I gently walk up the stairs, hoping to fall into bed before getting caught up in a lengthy conversation with my sisters.
I adore them, but overnight shifts have become harder to handle lately, so I don’t want to take my worn-down patience out on them.
When I step onto the second-floor landing, a creak that could wake the dead alerts the neighborhood. Just my luck.
“Hey, you,” Winter says, poking her head out of her room and looking every bit like summer in her white sundress.
“How was work?” Her dark hair is pulled back in a ponytail with a thin white ribbon running down its length, and the natural glow she exudes makes me realize how dirty I am in comparison. A shower is definitely in my future.
“It was work. White after Labor Day, huh?” I tease, working a smile into place. “You always were a rebel.” The title was actually earned by Spring when she was in high school, but we like to think the rest of us can be unique in our own ways.
She laughs, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear when she looks down at the dress. “Figured this would be the last time I’d get to wear it before the chill of fall rolls in. Thanks again for giving it to me.”
“It’s prettier on you. You heading to the Honey Hive?” I cut around the top banister, leaning in the direction of the bedroom at the other end of the short hallway.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she tilts her head. “I need to run a few errands first. Hailey’s opening the shop, and I promised her a smoothie. I’m running behind. Nothing new. But I need to get going.” She gallops down the stairs but then calls back up, “How’s Brandon doing?”
I haven’t even made it to my bedroom yet . . . I turn back and lean over the railing. “How does everyone know about him being in the hospital?”
Her eyebrows peak when she looks up at me. “Ummm, did you forget where you live? That news traveled like wildfire. No pun intended.”
“I didn’t hear about the accident.”
With a quick pop of her shoulders, she says, “Probably because you shut down anyone who dares to utter his name. I don’t know why you hate him so much, but—”
“I don’t hate him.” Cocking her head sideways again, she stares at me as if I’m lying. “I don’t.” I shrug. “I just . . . I don’t know, but I don’t hate him, and he’s doing fine. He’ll recover.” I turn on my socked heels and go to my room.
Before the door closes, I hear her say, “My, oh, my. Someone put a bee in Fall’s bonnet, and I have a feeling it’s a certain laid-up firefighter.”