Liz hitched herself up onto a barstool at the kitchen island while Matt removed the foil from the loaf pans.
She took in a lungful of the sweet and savory spices mingling in the air around them. Memories of Gram’s home cooking when her family would come up for holiday dinners came rushing back. Those had been magical gatherings. There’d be so much food. This was more like a sampler platter from those days.
Matt walked over to a cabinet next to the refrigerator. Inside the wooden door, a panel of colorful lights and buttons on a flashy computerized panel looked out of place in the rustic home, but as soon as Matt pushed one of those buttons old country music poured through the speakers.
Alan Jackson’s “Livin’ on Love” played as he walked back over to the island and removed foil from the last stoneware loaf pan.
She swayed to the music. “You did all of this just for yourself?”
“A man’s got to eat.”
“Weren’t you worried dinner would burn if you didn’t get back on time?”
“No. I cooked this morning. I just left it in the oven to stay warm while I was gone so it would be ready for lunch. Didn’t take much effort at all.”
Says the man who can cook. “Seems like a lot of trouble for one person. Thanks for inviting me to share it with you.”
“There’s always plenty.”
He probably planned for leftovers. He could make light of it, but she appreciated the gesture. He was a nice guy. She owed Maizey a big thank-you for connecting her with Matt.
“Can’t have Thanksgiving without turkey, or stuffing, or, well … any of this.” He pulled out the pan with the turkey tenderloin and drained the juices into a pot. One twist of a knob and a blue flame danced beneath it. In a bowl he added flour and whisked in a little milk, salt, and pepper; then, as the stock in the pan began to boil, he mixed the two together.
He’s making gravy from scratch? She pinched her hand to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Nope. This was really happening.
As he continuously stirred the gravy, he said, “I’d rather have had some yeast rolls but that’s one thing I haven’t perfected, so you’ll be sopping gravy with a piece of sandwich bread like me today.” He paused, giving her a serious look. “You do sop … right?”
“Of course, and I’m perfectly okay sopping my gravy with bread.” She should be, because had she been home alone for Thanksgiving there wouldn’t have been any of this. If she were forced to eat what she had in the house then she’d have had to eat a low-calorie frozen entree, pickles, or peanut butter and crackers, because most of the time when she was home for meals it was that or a bowl of soup. She was thankful for this spread.
Matt took two plates down from the cabinet and handed her one. “Ladies first.”
She put a little bit of everything on her plate. “This really looks delicious.” One of these days she was going to have to perfect a few dishes. She’d planned to start putting Grandma’s recipe cards to use years ago, but she still hadn’t attempted even one of them.
He heaped food onto his plate. “Come on, let’s eat in the dining room. It’s a special occasion.”
She hadn’t much thought of Thanksgiving as being special since her folks moved away. Mostly she looked at it as a meal she didn’t have to attend. Just a day to herself, and Lord knows there were never enough of those.
He flipped on the light as they walked into the dining room. The table was made of heavy wood with a warm finish. The chairs were big and upholstered in deep-jeweled tones. The chandelier was a mixture of wrought iron and wood—masculine and elegant at the same time.
Liz sat in the chair opposite him.
He hopped back up. “Hang on a second.” He left the room and came back with a bottle of wine and two glasses.
He poured two glasses, handed her one, and raised his. “To following your dreams. Always something to be thankful for.”
“Thank you, and thank you for sharing this lovely meal with me today.” She took a sip from her glass.
“I wouldn’t have had it any other way. It’s nice the way this worked out.” He dug a fork into his food, and she did too.
“This is delicious.” She hadn’t meant to sound so shocked, but really it might have been the best meal she’d had all year. “What do you know about my grandparents’ inn?”
“Angel’s Rest? I know that it was once a very popular resort that brought people back to the town over and over. The locals were thankful for all the community ties. The fly-fishing, hiking, things that highlighted the natural bounty of this area. I also know that at the holidays Angel’s Rest lit the whole mountain in Christmas lights. People came from everywhere to see them, not that they had to. The glow could be seen from anywhere in the village below, but you had to make it up the mountain for the hot chocolate, cookies, and the special displays.”
“Lights at the Lodge.” He knew a lot. “Did you ever see them yourself?”
“I did.”
She put down her fork. “Do you remember the big steam train that chugged through the yard?” She leaned forward. “Pop loved that thing. He absolutely lit up like a ten-year-old when he was messing with that train.”
“I do remember the train.” Matt took another sip of wine. “My favorite was Santa’s workshop with the mechanical elves, though. Those things were so cool.”
“It was quite a show, although only a couple of the elves actually worked. I don’t think people even noticed that. Pop tried for years to get them going.” Liz remembered it so well. Even now she could hear the tinny sound of the music that came from the speakers Pop had rigged up in the trees. “I wonder what happened to all that stuff when they headed off on their big adventure?”
“No telling. If it was sold around here I’m sure someone would know who bought it.”
That thought excited her. What if she could recover that old train? “Do you think there might actually be a chance to find a few original pieces?”
“We could ask around. If not the Christmas stuff, probably some of the furniture. Flossie owns the antique shop and she knows the destiny of about anything you’d be looking for. I’ll introduce you two.”
“Thank you.” She took another bite of stuffing. “How long did it take you to find this place?”
“I started designing the plans before I even really knew what I was doing. Then while I was in college I used it as one of my main design projects.”
“You’re an architect?”
“I am. It took me longer to design this place than to build it.” He laid both hands on the table. “It was a dream that started when I was young. Then I went off to college. It was years before I could really draft a decent plan. I wish I’d thought to keep every version. I learned a lot along the way. Then I’d visit model homes and look through plans and come up with more ideas.”
“I know how that is.”
“Eventually I settled on one design and it quit changing and it became more refined. When I got to the point that the only things I was fussing over were hardware choices, I knew I was ready to actually get to work.”
“That’s really exciting. I won’t have the luxury to wait like you did, but it has to be amazing to see what you dreamed of in your mind come to be.”
“Oh yeah.” He scanned the room with a look of accomplishment. “I just got done last year. It was worth every backbreaking moment. It’s everything I ever wanted.”
“Right down to the option to cook in cast iron in the fireplace?”
“That, and…” He leaned forward and whispered, “I’ve got a tree house out back.”
“You do not.”
“I do. One day when the weather is better I’ll show you.”
“Wishing for a son one day?”
“One day.”
“That’s sweet.”
He shrugged. “Don’t let it get around.”
“Somehow I think this town is already on to you.” She laughed and placed her napkin on the table. “This was lovely.”
“Thanks for the company.” He reached toward her. “I’ll take your plate.”
“Don’t be silly. I might not cook, but I can wash a couple of dishes.” She stood and collected the plates from the table and carried them into the kitchen. No dishwasher in sight. Just like a man. She started running water in the sink.
Matt walked in behind her. “You don’t need to rinse those. The dishwasher is in that drawer to the right of the sink.”
She looked at the wooden drawer. “Here?”
He nodded.
She tugged on the wooden cabinet drawer, and inside was all stainless steel. “This is the coolest dishwasher I’ve ever seen.”
“Perfect when you don’t dirty a ton of dishes at once. There’s a second drawer below for when there are more dishes.”
“Very nice. I might need one of these.” She filled the dishwasher, then dried her hands on a red dish towel that had KISS THE COOK embroidered on it. She glanced back up at him.
“It was a gift.”
“Put it on my tab,” she teased. Liz pulled out her phone and looked at the weather radar again. “It looks like the worst of the storm is about over.”
“What’s your hurry? Let’s take a look at your plans under some light.”
She followed him back into the dining room and they spread out all of her drawings. Matt made a few suggestions on the layout, most of which she really liked, and they even laid out electrical-outlet placements while they talked through the usability of what she’d designed.
“I think you’ve got a really good plan here.” He looked up. His gaze connected with hers. “I’m glad I got to be a part of this with you.”
There was an awkward silence as her mind reeled. Matt seemed so connected to Angel’s Rest that it was a little unsettling, and she wasn’t sure if it was in a good way or not.
He cleared his throat. “Do you remember those church outings they used to have at Angel’s Rest during the summer?” He sat back in his chair, a thoughtful smile spreading across his face. “Those were great. People still talk about those days, and the hay rides to see the Christmas lights—”
“Of course I remember.” Where was he going with all of this? They’d already talked about it.
“And the fly-fishing. I liked that the best. Really memorable,” he said. Silence hung between them again. “I remember you from back then.”
“You do?” She tried to imagine him younger.
“Yeah, and sadly I have to admit that you outfished me every time. I’ve never met another woman who could cast a fly rod like you.”
She laughed. “Pop taught me. I was fly-fishing from the time I could walk. He gave me this little bucket hat and he put all these colorful lures all over it. It was so pretty, but I’d never use any of the lures. No matter how many I lost or got hung up in a tree I refused to give up any of the ones on my hat. Those things are expensive. Of course, at the time I had no idea. I was just a little thing. I loved being out there with him. He spoiled me, not so much with gifts, but with his time. I was so lucky.”
“Your grandpa was a great man. He must’ve had the patience of a saint to put up with all us kids all the time.”
“He lived for that.” She looked at Matt. “I can’t believe I don’t remember you. Maybe it’s the beard.”
“Yeah. Maybe. I didn’t have this back then.” He rubbed his hand across his beard.
“A ten-year-old with a beard would’ve been memorable.” He was good-looking, but she’d never been a fan of a beard. Why a man would want all that scruff on his face was hard for her to comprehend.
“I remember you serving hot chocolate in a red coat and Santa hat with your grandmother one Christmas too. Then, you rode back down the hill on the hay wagon and brought enough cookies for everyone.”
“Snickerdoodles.” Her voice was soft. “It’s still the only cookie I know how to make.”
“They were good.”
“Those were great times. I want to bring that back to this town.”
“I hope you will. This town could use that burst of Christmas spirit again.”
A tingle of excitement coursed through her, but when her eyes locked with Matt’s that tingle turned into a rioting panic.
She glanced at her watch. “Oh gosh. Look at the time. I’ve taken up nearly all of your day. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be silly. This has been the best Thanksgiving I’ve had in a while. I’m glad it worked out the way it did.”
She wanted to run. To bolt straight out of there. Was she misdirecting her excitement over Angel’s Rest toward this guy? She didn’t even know him. Didn’t even want a relationship. Especially now. There was no time for that, especially if he was going to be working on this project for her. These had been her memories for so long, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to share them with anyone else.
His place had some feminine touches. For all she knew he was married. “You know, it’s none of my business, but why are you spending Thanksgiving alone?”
He sat there quiet for a long moment. “I lost my dad last year. Cancer. My sister usually spends Thanksgiving in South Carolina. That’s where she lives.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.”
“I noticed your necklace.”
Her hand went to the special sand-dollar pendant.
“Usually it seems like people either love the mountains or the beach. Not both.”
She twisted it in her hand. “You’re right. I’ve always been a mountain girl, but I worked on a project in South Carolina. In fact, I just finished it up. I found a real appreciation for the beauty of the coast while I was there. I kind of splurged on the necklace as a reward to myself on the project.”
“I guess both have their charms. You couldn’t force me to live on the coast, though.”
“I don’t know that I’d live there, but nature in all its natural glory is pretty amazing no matter what it is.”
“True. Well, congratulations on your project.”
“Thank you.”
He looked around, then sniffed, and a slight grin settled on his lips. “Dad and I worked together on this place. We made a lot of memories in the process. I understand your love of Angel’s Rest. Of those things that are special from the past. Come with me. Let me show you something else before you go.”
Reluctant for a split second, she followed him into the living room.
He pointed to a reclaimed wood frame hanging next to the fireplace. The wood was rough, some notches deeper than others.
“That picture is the first time Dad took me fishing.”
She could see his good looks even in the softness of the little-boy features. He was looking up at his father with so much pride as he held a tiny wiggling fish. “That’s so sweet.”
“Dad made that frame. That wood was the seat of the old wooden boat we used to take out. Those notches represented the fish we’d caught. How big they were.”
Her heart swelled. “Oh my gosh. That’s so neat.”
“I really miss him. He was a good man.”
She saw a tenderness fill his eyes.
“That’s the bad thing about love. When it’s gone it hurts like the devil. I treasure all of our memories together up here.”
“I think you do understand why I hold memories of Antler Creek so dear.” Her heart ached for his loss. Matt was clearly a good man too. Probably walking in his daddy’s very footsteps. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I think our paths crossed for a reason.” Things always happen the way they should. Pop’s twinkling blue eyes danced in her memory. “I better get out of your hair.”
“It’s been nice. I’ll get right to work on these numbers for you.”
“Thank you for everything. Email me the reports and I’ll go through them and then call you back with questions.” She walked over to the door and pulled on her coat. “Thank you again.”
He stepped out on the porch and waved as she drove off.
A gentleman to the end.
Liz shifted into reverse and turned to head toward the road, but her eyes locked on that rearview mirror until she could no longer see Matt.