ROSEMARY SLEPT LITTLE the rest of the night, unable to let go of what had happened.
She’d gone downstairs to make a cup of peppermint tea, only to find Nathan on the couch again. Glimmer Creek was located fairly high in the foothills, and it was cool at night. He had seemed restless, but he’d always been a wiggly sleeper. Even as a baby it was impossible to keep him covered; he’d kicked and squirmed and ended up in the craziest positions in his crib.
Maybe she should have realized it was a nightmare. And maybe she should have tried harder to convince him to stay at the rehab center. Yet he’d been getting jumpier, refusing to eat, every little noise making him jerk. Shortly after Tyler had left for Italy, he’d announced he was checking out. Period. End of discussion.
An aide in General Pierson’s office had already suggested a visit to Poppy Gold Inns when Nathan was released, so she’d called and they’d helped set it up.
Finally Rosemary got out of bed and dressed for work. The reflection in the bathroom mirror was discouraging, and she made a face. Once she’d looked pale and delicate after a sleepless night. Now she simply looked older. When had that happened? She still felt like a girl. On the inside, she was the young woman in her wedding pictures.
In the kitchen she found Nathan dressed and sitting at the table. Tyler was setting out plates and food containers. A dark bruise had formed on his jaw and around his eye. They weren’t talking, and the tension was so thick it made her skin crawl.
“Did you boys argue?” she asked nervously.
Nathan squeezed her hand. “It was simply a discussion. Tyler brought up going back east again, that’s all. I’m still not interested, but he’s right that you have to stay away from me when I’m asleep, Mom. It isn’t safe.”
“I know—I wasn’t thinking. It won’t happen again. What are you doing this morning?” she asked, anxious to change the subject.
Nathan gulped down a mouthful of coffee. “I’m going over to the Poppy Gold greenhouses. Kurt mentioned propagating plant cuttings. I don’t know why he enjoys that stuff, but he suggested I give him a hand.”
“He’s proud of his work. The same as Sarah. I think one of the reasons they’re close is because gardeners and bakers have so much in common.”
“Gardeners and bakers?” Tyler echoed, and both her sons looked at her as if she was insane. She didn’t elaborate, knowing they’d probably always see her as flighty. But there was a similarity. Yeast and other leavening made baked goods rise. Water and sunlight made flowers grow. What’s more, both required creativity, and both could smell heavenly.
Well...it might be a stretch, but it felt right.
Or maybe she just kept trying to find a reason she wasn’t close to her own sons—a reason other than her mistakes as a mother. Having nothing in common would be comforting, because that was simply human nature.
“It was just an idea,” Rosemary murmured.
“Mom?” It was Tyler, holding out a cup of tea.
“Thank you, dear.” She tried not to look too closely at his bruised face.
The silence at the table echoed in her ears, and her few attempts at conversation were unsuccessful. She finished as quickly as possible and left for work.
The short walk was pleasant, and she called, “Good morning,” as she went in through the back door. A chorus of greetings followed, but she didn’t linger since the crew was getting the last breakfast orders ready for delivery to Poppy Gold.
Rosemary decided a thorough inventory of supplies was needed, so she checked, then focused on filling out purchase orders. Ordinarily Sarah left notes if she noticed any supply issues, but she was on edge, waiting for the report from the building inspector. It was a relief to sort the mail when it arrived and find an official-looking envelope from the city of Glimmer Creek.
Rosemary hurried into the kitchen. “Sarah, I think it’s here.”
* * *
SARAH WENT OUTSIDE to read the information Stephen Seibert had sent, not wanting the staff to worry more than necessary. They’d heard something big might be coming and it was a concern, no matter how much she tried to be reassuring.
The morning air was refreshing, so she sat on the trunk of her car and drew a deep breath to clear her mind. It didn’t work. She still wasn’t sleeping well, even though she hadn’t gotten a silent call for a while.
Somehow that had made it worse.
She kept anticipating a call. Even though she’d turned off the phone, she couldn’t help checking to see if there were any silent messages. She also had to make sure her cell was charged and nearby instead of relying on the landline, which was another reminder.
Still, the calls had stopped.
She could relax and forget about them, stay uptight, or get a new unlisted number to give her friends and family. Of course, then her dad would overreact because he’d want to know why...
Sarah shook her head and opened the envelope.
There were a number of technical terms, but it mostly boiled down to needing more floor space, a new cooling-heating unit, and other requirements that would be less problematic but still expensive. The new HEPA vac system alone would cost a fortune.
Stephen had written a separate note, apologizing again that he’d been the bearer of bad tidings and to let him know if there was anything he could do.
How about magically expanding my building? That would help. Sarah remembered the Harry Potter books where a tiny tent could be huge inside and a handbag could contain copious supplies. A solution like that would be wonderful. She could wave her magic wand and solve the problem.
“May if I take a look?”
The unexpected question made Sarah jerk so hard, she went sliding off her perch and might have fallen if Tyler hadn’t caught her elbow. Thanks to him, she landed on her feet. “Don’t sneak up on people,” she scolded.
“I didn’t sneak. Why are you so skittish?”
“You startled me, that’s all. And I’m okay now. You can let go.”
Tyler hastily released his grip on her arm. “Right. Mom called and said you’d gotten the report. She’s convinced I can come up with a solution to the renovations you need.”
“I’m afraid I need a miracle, not an architect.” Sarah gave him a longer look and blinked. “Omigod, what happened?”
“It’s a long story. I’d rather not go into it.”
Hmm. He looked as if he’d been in a bar fight, but they rarely had that sort of thing in Glimmer Creek. Anyway, Tyler didn’t seem the kind of man who got into bar fights.
“You may need stitches,” she announced. “Rosemary can drive you to the clinic in my car.”
“I don’t need stitches or to be taken to the doctor by my mother,” he returned coolly. “It just looks worse because it’s on my face. Anyhow, I’m taking Nathan to an appointment in Stockton later and don’t have time.”
Why were men so stubborn?
Sarah rolled her eyes and got her first aid kit from the trunk of her car. “Sit,” she ordered, pointing to the small loading dock.
“I don’t need to be babied.”
“That’s good, because I don’t intend to baby you. But you did a terrible job fixing that yourself, and you’re going to scare people, going around like Frankenstein’s monster.”
“Is that how I look?” The corners of Tyler’s mouth twitched. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not sensitive about my appearance.”
Sarah’s stomach flip-flopped as she cleaned around the cut. It also gave her a close-up view of the healing scar at his hairline...and the strong, sensual line of his jaw.
Sensual?
She was insane to keep thinking that way about him. Yet she couldn’t deny that even with a battered face, he was compellingly attractive.
And his smile when he really let it go?
She’d only see it the one time, but smiles like that could make a woman’s heart go wacky. It was endearing, almost vulnerable, and had turned her inside out. But while he might have a real, no-holds-barred, completely charming smile that could knock a woman silly, he obviously didn’t use it that often.
“Where did you get this?” she asked, lightly touching the older injury.
“In Illinois. The owner of the building that collapsed, Milo Corbin, asked me to come and see if there was anything I could do to advise the rescue efforts. My lawyer suspects the guy was already trying to shift blame.”
Tyler’s expression didn’t reveal how he felt about the matter, but Sarah suspected it was chewing him up inside.
“How would that help shift the blame?”
“Corbin now claims he just called to tell me about the structural failure and was surprised to see me at the construction site. He’s given several interviews implying I came out of a guilty conscience.”
A breath hissed between Sarah’s teeth; Milo Corbin sounded like a bully. “Feel free to tell me this is none of my business, but maybe you should sue the guy for defamation. Show him you have teeth. That ought to put a sock in his mouth.”
“My lawyer has mentioned the possibility of a slander suit,” Tyler explained, “but worrying about my reputation seems petty compared to what those construction workers and their families suffered.”
“Except if Corbin is responsible, he needs to be held accountable. Taking the high road is fine sometimes, but guys like that don’t even know there’s a high road.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Good, but you still haven’t explained how you got injured.”
Tyler shrugged, looking almost embarrassed. “The city engineer was on vacation, so I went in with rescue personnel to evaluate the best way to extricate trapped workers.”
“And?” she prompted when he fell silent.
“And there was a concrete wall I thought would hold, but instead it came apart. A load of debris came down on me and one of the firemen,” he continued in a tight tone. “But it should have held. The specifications on that wall were in my original plan, and it ought to have been fine even with twice as much weight on it.”
“I suppose you’ve considered whether there was a flaw in the concrete.”
The barest flicker of response crossed his face. “Yes. I’ve hired a Chicago law firm to protect my interests. I gave them a sample of the concrete that I managed to grab after I woke up. They’re having it tested, but regardless of the results, they’re reasonably confident about the outcome of the investigation.”
“I’m glad.”
“You are, aren’t you?” Tyler asked in an odd tone. “Yet you’ve only known me for a few days.”
“I care about justice.”
“You can’t be sure that I’m not at fault for those men being injured.”
“Maybe I’m psychic,” Sarah returned lightly.
She opened another square of sterile gauze, uncomfortable under Tyler’s intent, questioning gaze. It was hard to explain, but she was convinced that he wasn’t at fault, maybe because he hadn’t spoken about the financial cost of the ruined building or bragged about his role in rescuing the workers.
Despite everything, she was starting to like him.
She finished cleaning around the wound and applied a butterfly bandage.
“I still think you should go to the clinic,” she said unhappily. “This is close to your eye.”
“I’ll go if it gets worse. Honestly, you don’t have to worry about me, Sarah. It’s decent of you, but I’m okay. Now, about that report from the building inspector—do I get to see it?”
“I’ll make you a copy. Wait here.”
She grabbed the paperwork and went inside to the office. Rosemary looked at her anxiously. “What does it say?”
“I’m still digesting everything. Tyler is here and I’m making him a copy.”
“Oh. I hope you don’t mind that I called him. He might come up with something really innovative.”
“We’ll see.” Sarah quickly ran the papers through the multifunction printer and tucked the original in her backpack. She hesitated, then asked, “How did his face get banged up?”
Rosemary instantly looked miserable. “Nathan did it. He didn’t mean to, but he was having a nightmare. I thought he was just restless and went to cover him with a blanket, then Tyler yelled a warning and jumped between us. Everything seemed to go crazy, and Nathan hit him. Twice. I feel terrible.”
Sarah patted her shoulder. “Don’t feel too terrible—Tyler may have put Nathan into fight mode when he yelled. Dad says the fight-or-flight instinct is exceptionally strong for soldiers, whether they’re asleep or awake.”
“Really?” Rosemary brightened, only to have her face fall again. “Still, it wouldn’t have happened except for me.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Sarah observed wryly. “Dad had PTSD, and he says a loud noise can trigger a cascade of memories. It’s probably worse for someone when they’re asleep.”
“I suppose. Honestly, I don’t understand what makes either of my sons tick. Tyler has always been a mystery, and Nathan is like a different person since he was hurt. He was such a sweet boy, and so comforting after his father died. Don’t get me wrong, Tyler was just as helpful,” Rosemary added hastily. “He spent ages sorting out the finances and getting everything in order.”
Sarah reflected that Tyler had offered practical support, and Nathan emotional encouragement. She wondered which one Rosemary had needed most.
“I’m glad they were both there for you.” She held up the duplicates she’d made. “Tyler is waiting, I’d best get these out to him.”
* * *
ROSEMARY FINISHED ENTERING purchase orders on the computer and sent them to the sweet shop’s grocery supplier, but it was impossible to get her sons out of her thoughts.
And her husband.
Everything had changed in the months since Richard’s death; the certainties had vanished, leaving the regrets behind. If only I’d been stronger... It was like a sad, unending mantra.
“You seem a million miles away,” Kurt said out of the blue.
Rosemary yelped. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Hey, I cleared my throat, but you must not have heard.”
“I have a lot on my mind.”
He sat down and put his cup of coffee on the corner of the desk. “Anything I can do?”
She smiled ruefully. “Actually, I may have too much help. As a matter of fact, I’m certain of it. My husband died almost nine months ago, and Tyler is still managing my finances. It was a relief to let him make the decisions in the beginning, but I have to start taking care myself. I just don’t know how to tell him.”
“Does he still think you shouldn’t be working?”
Rosemary pursed her lips. “I’m not sure. He might be waiting to see if I fall apart and need him to rescue me.”
Maybe she wasn’t being fair, but Tyler didn’t understand... The place where she felt most confident was her job at the bakery. Her responsibilities weren’t that different from the fund-raisers she’d managed. Over the years she’d helped raise hundreds of thousands of dollars for important causes; so why had she freaked at the prospect of paying her own bills and balancing her monthly budget?
Kurt’s brow creased in a frown. “You aren’t going to fall apart—that’s nonsense. I’ll talk to him.”
For Pete’s sake, she had enough trouble with her sons. She didn’t need anyone rocking the proverbial boat. “No, you won’t. I’m grateful you’ve taken an interest in Nathan, but I’ll do all the talking with Tyler. Butt out.”
Kurt’s frown turned into a grin. “Butt out? I can’t believe you just said that.”
“Neither can I. You’re corrupting me.”
She shook her head as he left.
Kurt Fullerton was a big teddy bear who didn’t know when to stop taking care of people. It might explain the underlying thread of exasperation she’d sensed in Sarah—she loved her dad and appreciated him wanting to help, but she was trying to be successful in her own right. Sometimes people just needed to do things for themselves.
Rosemary glanced at the desk where she’d put a photo of her husband. She’d let Richard make the decisions, and when he suddenly wasn’t there, she’d been lost. Tyler’s help had seemed like a lifeline at the time, but maybe she should have forced herself to take some responsibility.
* * *
THE NEXT EVENING, Sarah smiled at her dad across the restaurant table. “I realize you want to roll your sleeves up and start remodeling, but nothing can be decided right now.”
“All right, but the family will help with whatever needs doing. Don’t forget it benefits Poppy Gold, as much as it does you,” he added quickly.
“I know everyone wants to pitch in, but nothing is final. Tyler is taking a look at the situation. He’s offered to give me an opinion about what, if anything, can be done.”
Her father nodded. “I can’t get a handle on him.”
Sarah looked down at her cheese enchiladas. She was having the same trouble. For the most part, she’d only guessed at the emotion flickering in Tyler’s dark eyes. She kept telling herself it didn’t matter. Either way, he was the last man she should find compelling. And yet she did.
It had to be a simple case of hormones. Perhaps if she dated more, she would be able to dismiss her response.
“Sarah?” prompted her father.
“Um, I think Tyler is just private.”
“I prefer Nathan. Shame about his leg being so bad. While he hasn’t said it outright, I can tell he’s worried the army won’t let him return to active duty.”
“Rosemary has mentioned he’s a career soldier, just like you were.” Sarah clapped a hand over her mouth as she yawned. “Sorry.”
Kurt leaned forward. “You seem more tired than usual, kiddo. Is the remodeling thing bothering you? I realize it’s a pain, but we’ll manage whatever needs doing.”
“It isn’t that.” Sarah debated telling him about the calls and finally shrugged. “I was getting a bunch of silent phone calls that I thought were from a robocaller, then they started coming in the middle of the night. They stopped a few days ago, but my sleep patterns are still screwed up.”
Her father’s expression seemed worried. “Did you ever find out who complained about your kitchen? Maybe the two are connected.”
“How could they be?” she countered.
“I don’t know. But you mentioned that Tyler Prentiss wasn’t pleased about his mother working for you.”
“I’m sure he isn’t involved,” Sarah said instantly. She was embarrassed that the idea had occurred to her and didn’t want anyone else to think it now. However annoying and frustrating Tyler might be, he didn’t seem the type of person who would resort to petty revenge. “Besides, the calls started before he arrived in Glimmer Creek.”
“Then who could it be? Everybody adores you.”
She repressed a snicker. That was her dad, totally unbiased. “I’m sure the complaint was just a misunderstanding or a practical joke that misfired.”
“It wasn’t funny.”
Sarah reached over and squeezed his hand. “Dad, it’s fine. Tonight I’m going to bed early and getting a good night’s sleep. And thanks to you, I’m having a delicious dinner I didn’t have to cook.”
“Casa Maria sure makes a tasty chili colorado. Do you want flan for dessert or something else?”
Though dessert didn’t appeal after baking all day, she nodded. Her father loved fried sopaipillas with honey, but he wouldn’t order anything if she didn’t.
“Flan sounds good.”
They chatted about family the rest of the meal, and then he dropped her off at her house. Theo met her at the door from the garage, looking particularly pleased with himself, which made her suspicious.
“What have you been doing, Theo?”
He wound around her legs, oozing contentment. She understood when she found the toilet paper upstairs and down had been unrolled, the tissue dragged around and ripped to shreds.
“Got bored today, did you?” she asked as she gathered handfuls.
It was dark by the time she finished, and she promptly went to bed, already half-asleep.
She’d known the bakery would be hard work, but it hadn’t been too bad until Tessa had asked her to provide breakfasts for Poppy Gold. The catering needs had grown from there. Definitely, she had to get employees trained and promoted. It would cost more, but it was the only way to be sure she didn’t let Poppy Gold or her cousin down.
Sighing, Sarah turned on her side and listened to Theo’s purr. She was almost asleep when her cell phone rang. Groggily she slid her finger across the touch screen to answer the call.
“Hello.”
Silence.
Sarah bolted upright and looked at the display, a sick sensation growing when she saw the number was unavailable.
“Hello?” she said again, not wanting to believe the whole thing was starting over with her cell phone.
Still nothing.
“You have the wrong number. Don’t call again or I’ll contact the police,” Sarah announced, trying to sound more confident than she actually felt. She disconnected and drew a calming breath. The call might be a coincidence. Or a gag that had gotten out of hand. The kids in town usually didn’t take things this far, but it was remotely possible.
She flipped on the light and saw Theo sitting on a corner of the bed with a disapproving expression. He didn’t enjoy being woken up any more than she did.
“Come here, baby,” she said, holding out her hand. He licked his paw and swiped it over his face before deigning to walk over and be petted.
With a sigh, Sarah leaned back. She couldn’t turn off both the landline and cell phone—she had to be available if there was an emergency.
Okay. In the morning she would contact the phone company and ask if it was possible to stop calls like this one. In the meantime...she went to her jewelry box and found the police whistle that Great-Uncle Milt had given her when she’d left for college. She’d kept it on her key ring until returning to Glimmer Creek.
Sarah tossed the whistle up and down, then put it next to her smartphone. She crawled back in bed and was asleep, almost the minute her head hit the pillow.
* * *
SHORTLY AFTER 1:00 A.M., Sarah woke to the cell phone ringing again...though technically it wasn’t a ring. One of her teenaged cousins had disapproved of her “boring” ringtone, so she’d downloaded the Star Wars theme song.
Sarah grabbed the phone and checked; as expected, no caller ID was displayed.
“Hello?” she answered.
When silence greeted her again, Sarah drew a deep breath and blew the whistle as hard as possible. A shriek sounded at the other end, but she couldn’t tell if it had come from a man or a woman...her own ears were ringing from the whistle. She could imagine how her annoying caller felt.
“Take that, you imperial scumbag,” Sarah said with satisfaction. “I told you not to call again.”