Chapter Ten

Peaches told herself not to worry about Colin. After all, she had more important things to worry about, namely Alicia. When she got to the Salty Goat the next day, everything seemed normal. Colin had done the usual cleaning, and the place looked fine. This time, she had the kitchen to herself, no Alicia trying to undermine lunch. She wrote down the lunch menu for the rest of the week on the whiteboard, designating herself as the chef in charge of all the main dishes.

Petty, perhaps, but it gave her a slight boost in confidence. My kitchen. Damn right.

Alicia barely glanced at the whiteboard when she came in, heading for her sandwich fixings. Peaches went back to preparing her chicken pot pie. It was another recipe from her Black Mountain Tavern days, and she was a little nervous about it. But in the end, it was a hit, disappearing before service was half over. Peaches erased it from the blackboard in the deli with a profound sense of relief.

She wondered if she should say anything more about yesterday to Alicia. She really hated confrontations, but she also hated sneakiness. And Alicia was turning into a sneak of epic proportions. In the end, Alicia left before Peaches could decide how to approach her. Of course, that didn’t take care of the problem, but it meant she could postpone it for another day. Peaches grabbed a cup of tea and a bowl of soup for her break.

Ruth’s daughter, Carol, joined her at the table. She was a miniature version of Ruth, right down to those brown-gold eyes. “Do we have any cookies? What happened to the cookies?”

Peaches sighed. “They’re really popular, but I haven’t had time to make as many as we might be able to sell, what with the muffins and the cheesecake.” She hadn’t yet turned Alicia loose on baking beyond layer cakes and the occasional pie. She wasn’t eager for the battles over cupcakes and macarons that would no doubt ensue.

Carol brightened. “You should show me how to do it. Then I could bake the cookies after school.”

“Are you sure you’d have time? I don’t want to get in the way of your homework.” Carol usually did her homework in a corner of the dining room—when she wasn’t behind the cash register at the takeout counter.

“I can do homework while they’re baking. And before. And after.” And snack on them after she finished baking, but Peaches didn’t begrudge her that. Cookies were always better straight out of the oven.

“I’ll talk with your mom about it. If she says it’s okay with her, then yeah, I’ll let you do the cookies.”

“She’ll be okay with it. She likes me learning to cook.”

“Always comes in handy.” Peaches tipped up the last of her soup. “You want to do some cookies now?”

“What kind?”

“Maybe chocolate chip. They go fast.”

Carol’s eyes lit up. “Yes, ma’am. Let’s do this.”

The cookies made the entire deli smell delectable. Peaches was reasonably sure they’d sell out, so she sequestered a couple for herself, and she noticed Ruth put a few away for her family.

The rush began to die down by five thirty, and Ruth got Carol bundled up for the walk to their house. “Did you get a chance to talk to Alicia?”

“We talked.” Of course, they hadn’t really talked about the stuff that needed to be discussed, but Peaches was putting that off. Just as she was putting off pressing Ruth about the business plan for expanding the restaurant. Only with the business plan she was more afraid that Ruth would politely turn her down than that they’d have any kind of confrontation.

At six, she locked the door, flipping the sign over to Closed, then went back to the kitchen to finish packing up the leftovers. She kept listening for Colin’s knock even as she worked. If he wasn’t feeling well, she didn’t want him standing outside in the cold.

By six fifteen, she was frowning. Colin had never shown up more than a few minutes after six. Maybe he was having trouble getting away from his brewing. She spent a little more time straightening up the kitchen then walked back into the restaurant. Outside, the street was largely empty except for the few people scurrying along to the nearest restaurants. The temperature sign at the bank showed eight degrees.

Not a good night for somebody to be wandering around in the cold, particularly somebody who wasn’t feeling well.

She squinted up and down the street again but didn’t see anyone who looked like Colin. Briefly, she thought about calling him, assuming she could find his cell phone number on his work application. But then she decided against it. He should know to call in if he was sick.

You shouldn’t get involved here. He’s a grown man. It’s his responsibility. All true, but she couldn’t help worrying. What if he was too sick to call?

She stood for a moment, trying to decide what to do. She could call. She could text. She could go home, assuming he wasn’t coming to work tonight. And if he does, after you leave? Do you want him standing around in the cold?

Enough. She was going to listen to her gut, well-developed over a lot of years looking after family and friends. Growing up in Houston, she’d been responsible for her younger siblings while her mother worked as a receptionist in a doctor’s office. And then there were all the people who needed a place to stay and a few meals and who ended up bedding down in her grandmother’s back room. Between her mom’s job and the number of times Peaches had dealt with sick kids, both those related to her and those who were just visiting, she’d learned all about colds and flu and bronchitis. She’d spent a large part of her after school time brewing tea and finding children’s aspirin. And she’d grown adept at knowing when to call her mother and when to put a sick child to bed. Sick people needed looking after.

She’d swing by the brewery on her way home and check to see if Colin was all right. If nothing else, it would set her mind at ease.

Peaches pulled on the heavy, down-filled puffer coat she’d bought with her first paycheck at the Goat. She wound a scarf around her neck, tugged her knit cap down to her ears, and pulled on her fur-lined gloves. She’d never be featured in the style pages. On the other hand, she wouldn’t freeze to death in the February chill.

She took out her flashlight in case she needed to check for ice then picked her way carefully along the snowy sidewalk, shining her light ahead of her. Away from Main where the shop owners kept their walks clear, the shoveling was more haphazard, but she had an excellent pair of snow boots with heavy rubber soles to help her work her way through the drifts.

The stars shone overhead, sharp as shattered glass in the frigid air, scattered across the black velvet of the sky. She could see the outlines of spruce trees, their branches clogged with snow, cold and beautiful like everything else in the mountain night.

The brewery building was closed and dark when she got there, but a yard light shone in the parking lot. She climbed the steps to the loading dock and looked around for a cement block shed.

It wasn’t hard to find, but it didn’t look particularly inviting. There were no windows, so she couldn’t tell if anyone was inside. Picking her way through a few more snowdrifts, she came to what looked like the only door. She raised her knuckles and rapped hard.

After a moment of silence, she rapped again then made a quick survey of the yard. This was the only building that seemed to match Colin’s description, so it pretty much had to be the place. She took a quick breath and pushed on the door handle.

The door swung open into darkness. She flipped on her flashlight again and found the light switch beside the door. Fluorescent lights flickered above her head, and somewhere, someone groaned.

Peaches jumped then turned toward the sound. A cot with a down mummy bag had been placed in the corner nearest to the baseboard heater. She was pretty sure the mummy bag was occupied.

“Colin?”

The body in the bag moved and gave another groan. “Could you turn off the light, please? It hurts my eyes.” The voice was vaguely familiar but so hoarse she barely made out the words.

She flipped off the light again, clicking on her flashlight. “I got worried when you didn’t come to the shop tonight. Are you all right?”

“I’m okay. Sort of.”

As she moved closer, she heard him wheezing. “Have you had anything to eat today?”

He paused. “I don’t remember. Maybe not.”

She tried not to shine her flashlight in his eyes. His face was partially covered by the sleeping bag, but he looked shaky. She touched a hand to his forehead. “Fever. How long have you been like this?”

“It started last night. I tried taking some aspirin and sleeping it off, but that didn’t work.”

“No, I guess not.” Peaches sighed. Guy. Typical guy. “Okay, we need to get you dressed, and then I can take you to my house. Where are your clothes?”

He pushed the sleeping bag back to look at her. “I think I’m wearing them. It’s okay, though. You don’t need to do anything. I can stay here.”

“No, you can’t. You’re sick, maybe very sick. You wouldn’t be able to take care of yourself even if you were in a place that had a few amenities, which this one doesn’t.” She managed to keep her tone just this side of exasperated. He was sick. Of course, he was also a guy and thus resistant to taking care of himself.

And she was worried about him, which annoyed her even more. She’d told herself not to get involved with Colin Brooks beyond being his boss. And now here she was rescuing him.

Of course, rescuing people was sort of her thing. And Colin really needed it. Time to get moving.

She knelt, shining her flashlight under his cot. “Where are your boots?”

“Down there somewhere,” he mumbled.

“Right. Got ’em. Now you need to get up and get your jacket on.”

It took a good fifteen minutes to get him put together. Fortunately, he’d been right when he said he was wearing his clothes—thermal undershirt, jeans, and socks. She turned the lights back on over his protests and got him into a heavy sweatshirt and his boots. She also managed to find his jacket, hat, and gloves where he’d dropped them. Finally, he was ready to go, even if he wasn’t particularly steady on his feet.

“You’re going to have to lean on me. I know it’ll be hard because I’m so much shorter, but it’s the only way you’ll be able to walk to my place.”

Colin nodded a little absently. His eyes seemed dazed, and she wasn’t sure how much he was taking in.

“Colin,” she said sharply, “put your arm on my shoulders. We’re going to walk to my house.”

After a moment, he put his hand on her shoulder then leaned his arm against her back. She managed not to stagger under his weight. “Okay, that’s good. Keep leaning. Let’s go.”

They worked their way slowly along the snow-clotted sidewalks. Colin seemed to be concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, like someone who was very drunk but still sober enough to know he needed to be cautious. Peaches focused on staying upright. He was close to dead weight as he leaned against her, and she was trying hard not to stagger or, worse, stumble.

Staying upright kept her from thinking about all the things that should have been scaring her right then. What if he was seriously ill? Could she get him to the urgent care clinic on her own? Should she take him to the emergency room at the hospital? What if he had pneumonia or worse?

Oh, Colin, damn you. Why didn’t you let me know how sick you were?

They finally reached her door, and she had him stand on his own for a moment while she dug out her key. He put a hand on the wall to have something to lean against, which struck her as ominous. Keep it together. You’ve got to get him inside.

“Okay,” she said, taking his hand, “let’s get out of the cold.”

Wiseass yipped at her from his crate, but she let it go for now. “Hang on, pup, I’ll take care of you when I can.”

She turned back to Colin. “Come on, you can have the spare bedroom.”

He put his arm around her, still leaning heavily, and she managed to get them both down the hall.

She flipped on the overhead light in the guest bedroom, very glad she’d put clean sheets on a couple of weeks ago, since she didn’t think Colin had the strength to stand while she made the bed. He sank down, wheezing.

“I’m going to get you some more aspirin for the fever and some water. You need to get out of those clothes and get into bed.”

He blinked. “I don’t have any pajamas.”

“Oh, for crap’s sake, you’re not the first man I’ve seen in his underwear.” Her fear for him was making her snappish.

“Okay, okay.” He pulled the sweatshirt over his head, and Peaches left quickly. Yes, she’d seen unclothed men before, but she’d never seen an unclothed Colin. And she wasn’t sure she was ready to go there, even when he was sick as a dog.

She found the aspirin and a spare water bottle then rummaged through the pantry until she found a can of chicken broth. She left it warming on the stove as she went back to Colin’s room.

He’d managed to make it into bed by the time she got back. The white pillowcase emphasized his pallor. His face was wet with perspiration. His eyes were closed.

She took a breath. She really hoped he hadn’t passed out, because then she’d have to call 911 and get an ambulance to come to the house. She didn’t think she could get him into her car by herself.

“Okay,” she said crisply, “you need to sit up so you can drink some water and take a couple of aspirin. I’m warming some broth you can drink, too. Right now you need to rehydrate.”

He opened his eyes, although he still looked a little woozy. She placed the water bottle on the bedside table. “Let me help you.”

He made it to mostly upright, with the pillow supporting his back. She gave him the pills and the water bottle then watched as he swallowed. And winced.

“What’s wrong?”

“My throat’s sore.”

“Where else do you hurt?”

“Headache. My ears are sore. And I’m either burning up or shivering.” He took another swallow of water, grimacing as he did.

Peaches ran through her mental inventory of symptoms and diseases. Of course, most of what she remembered was about small children, but she didn’t think the adult versions of the diseases were very different. “It might be strep throat, or it might be bronchitis. Or it might just be a bad cold or flu. Whatever it is, you need to rest and drink a lot of fluids. I’ll see if I can talk somebody into coming over tomorrow to take a look at you.”

He shook his head weakly. “I don’t need a doctor. I probably can’t afford one.”

“We’ll figure that out when we have to. For now, just drink water and get some sleep. I’ll bring you the broth. The bathroom’s across the hall when you need it.” She headed back to the kitchen. Wiseass was waiting for her in the crate, and Peaches took her to the backyard for a quick run.

She tried to remember all the sore throats her sibs had gone through. Brick had had bronchitis, but she didn’t remember exactly what she was supposed to look for. Myrna had had strep throat for sure. Peaches grimaced. If it was strep, she’d probably catch it, too, since it was so contagious. She’d had her flu shot for the year, so she might be safe there.

She brought Wiseass back inside and poured some broth into a mug then headed back up the hall again. In the doorway, she paused. Colin was lying down flat, eyes closed. She weighed the desirability of getting him to eat something versus the desirability of letting him rest.

On the whole, rest seemed like a better idea.

She put the mug on the table with the water bottle then stepped back to look at him again. Even with his hair pushed into clumps and a scruffy beard, he was still an amazingly attractive man.

And she had no business thinking about how he looked right now.

She stepped back into the hall before closing the door carefully behind her.