Chapter Eleven

Colin awoke feeling like warmed-over shit. His head hurt. His throat throbbed. His mouth tasted like he’d been licking sewage. He managed to push himself to a sitting position so he could grab the water bottle. The pain when he swallowed was sharp, but the relief of the water made up for it. There was some liquid in a ceramic mug with a film of grease. Peaches probably wanted him to drink it, but he couldn’t quite force himself to do it yet.

He looked around the room for some clue about what time it was, but he didn’t see a clock, and his cell phone was probably still back in the shed. What appeared to be sunshine leaked around the edges of the venetian blinds, though, so it must be daytime.

You know this is a Class A fuck-up, don’t you?

He did know that. He’d managed to get the IPA into the fermenting tank, but now he wouldn’t be able to do anything else with it. He really hoped he didn’t lose his job at the Salty Goat. He didn’t exactly know what he’d do next if he did. And he hoped Liam didn’t use his illness as an excuse to say he’d failed as a brewer. He was already living a lot closer to the edge than he’d ever been before.

So how does it feel to have no money and small hope of getting any, asshole?

Shitty, of course. His former life hadn’t exactly prepared him for this. He’d never been this close to the bottom, and he wasn’t sure how to claw his way back.

Plus, he was taking advantage of Peaches. Again. He wasn’t sure how she’d known to come and get him, but he was grateful she had. She was turning out to be his sexy guardian angel. Now, of course, he had to try to pull himself together so he could get out of said guardian angel’s spare bedroom. He couldn’t let her rescue him. Not if he wanted to keep whatever shred of self-respect he still had.

He managed to make it to the door and then to the bathroom. He still wasn’t sure what time it was or if Peaches was around the house somewhere. And he didn’t want to go tripping down the hall in his underwear.

He took a moment to examine his face in the mirror, sighing. He not only felt like warmed-over shit, but he also looked like it. He’d really hoped he was done with disasters, that he’d finally found his footing and was moving forward. Now he seemed to be back to square one again. Maybe even further back, since he still didn’t have a working car or a place to bring his dog.

He headed to the bedroom, feeling the little energy he’d had when he woke up start to fade. If he couldn’t even walk to the bathroom and back without dragging his feet, he was obviously in deep trouble.

A door opened somewhere in the house, and he slid down a little farther under the covers, pulling the blankets up to his chin.

A moment later, he heard footsteps in the hall, and then Peaches came into the room, followed by an Asian woman carrying a satchel.

Peaches gave him a determined smile. “Good morning. I brought Sara over. She’s going to check you out.”

Sara folded her arms. “I’m a PA at the family clinic, so I’m actually here to check out your symptoms. Peaches seems to think you’re in bad shape. What hurts?”

He started to speak, but his throat closed on the words. “Throat,” he managed to rasp. “Headache. Ears.”

Sara nodded absently, touching his forehead. “Okay, hand me my bag, Peaches.”

A few minutes later, she’d taken his temperature, checked out his swollen glands with surprisingly gentle fingers, listened to his chest, and looked down his throat. She took a throat culture that unfortunately involved scraping his sore throat, pulled the sheet back into place, and nodded. “Well, you’re sick. But I’m guessing you grasped that.”

Colin managed a wan smile.

“As to what you’re sick with, I don’t know yet. I’d guess tonsillitis, but that’s just preliminary. I’ll get the culture analyzed at the clinic and let you know. If it’s bacterial, I’ll write you a prescription for antibiotics that will knock it out. For now, drink a lot of fluids and take aspirin for the fever. And get lots of rest.”

She replaced everything in her bag then turned to Peaches. “Keep him down for a couple of days. Give him soup to drink and aspirin or ibuprofen, whichever works. He should get better.”

Peaches smiled. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

“Pay me in scones, and we’ll be even.” Sara grinned then turned back to nod at Colin. “You’re lucky your girlfriend is the best cook in Antero. Her scones are the only thing that would make me do a house call.”

My girlfriend? Amazingly enough, he didn’t find the term as upsetting as he probably should have. He managed a raspy, “Thanks,” as Sara and Peaches headed out the door.

Peaches was back a few moments later.

“Okay, now we know what’s happening to you, and we can deal with it. I’ll make you some soup and leave it in a thermos so you can have it when you feel up to it.” She picked up the mug of greasy liquid, grimacing. “This is pretty disgusting. The next batch will be better.”

He made one last effort, forcing the words through his closed throat. “You…don’t have…to do… this. Need…to…go.” Although he had no idea how he’d manage to get there.

Peaches turned back, hands on her hips, lips compressed in a thin line. “You’re seriously ill. You can’t go to your stupid shack. You should never have been there in the first place.” She paused, taking a breath. “We can get along without a janitor for a few days. I’ll have Tug sweep up when he finishes loading the dishwasher, and Alicia and I can keep the kitchen in shape. You need to rest and recover. It’s not like I’m using this spare bedroom for anything else at the moment.”

He closed his eyes. “Thank you.” Which was totally inadequate but the best he could do.

“Sure,” she said. “No problem. Pass it on when you can.”

Pass it on when you can? He let himself drift as he dropped down to sleep again. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to pass on or how he’d be able to do it, but he’d try. It fit in with his mission to live up to Devin’s expectations anyway. At that point, he’d have given Peaches anything she asked for and think it was the bargain of his life.

…

Peaches was still annoyed when she got back to the Salty Goat. She’d taken Sara over to the house and back in less than an hour, and she’d left all the cases at the deli well-stocked, but she still felt slightly harassed.

And mad. Colin Brooks was the most exasperating man at times. He was obviously just barely conscious, and he actually wanted to go back to his hovel to take care of himself.

He’s embarrassed you’re seeing him when he’s weak. She closed her eyes for a moment. Of course he was. Ridiculous but predictable. Lord, save her from masculine pride.

She grabbed her chef’s beanie and jammed it on her head, tucking in her hair, then wrapped the apron around herself. Cooking always helped her focus. Right now, focus was what she needed.

Focus on something other than Colin Brooks and his sickly pallor.

Alicia raised an eyebrow as she entered the kitchen. “Good, you’re back. I didn’t know what we were doing for our special today.”

Peaches gritted her teeth. She so didn’t want to deal with Alicia right now. “It’s on the white board. We’re doing stew. It’s in the pot on the back burner.”

“Oh.” Alicia gave her an elegant shrug. “I guess I’ll just get the sandwiches and soup set up.”

“Yeah, good plan.” Peaches took a moment to center herself. She had work to do.

The kitchen door swung open behind her, and Ruth leaned in. “Well?”

“Probably tonsillitis. Sara said she’d let us know. If it is, she can put him on antibiotics.”

Ruth nodded briskly. “Okay. Tell her to send me the bill.”

Peaches paused. “Really?”

“He can’t afford it, can he?”

“Probably not.”

“So I’ll pay for it.” She started to back out again then paused. “I really appreciate what you’re doing here. I couldn’t take him in myself—I don’t have room, and I don’t have time to take care of him. And Carol would probably drive him nuts within a couple of hours. But we couldn’t leave him in that damned shack. I still can’t believe he was trying to live there.”

“I’ve got some ideas about that,” Peaches said.

Alicia gave Peaches a curious look, her eyebrows elevating once again.

“I’ll keep you posted.” Peaches turned back to her stove.

“Okay, I’ll talk to you later.” Ruth disappeared back into the dining room.

“You’re taking care of the janitor?” Alicia looked as if she’d smelled something faintly distasteful.

Peaches wasn’t sure what to say exactly or why this was any of Alicia’s business. “Colin is ill. Ruth and I are both concerned.”

“That’s very…charitable of you.” Alicia turned back to her sandwich prep.

Peaches gritted her teeth again.

She worked through lunch then started preparing desserts. She figured if she ate on the fly and didn’t take a break, she could leave early, although she’d wait until Alicia had left for the day first. No point in giving her anything else to gossip about.

Carol appeared at four. “Cookies?”

Well, hell. She’d forgotten all about Carol and the cookies during the drama of the day. “Sure, okay. Let’s just do chocolate chip again. I haven’t had time to plan the ingredients for new ones yet.”

Carol looked disappointed, but Peaches ignored it for once. There was only so much fixing she was willing to do in a single day. “Mom said the janitor guy was sick and you were, like, taking care of him.”

“His name’s Colin. I guess you’ve never met him.”

“Nope. He comes after I leave.” Carol lifted down the large mixing bowl for the cookie batter then headed toward the pantry. “Anyway, I was thinking maybe we should make some extra cookies for him.”

Peaches blinked. “For Colin?”

Carol returned with her arms full of ingredients. “Yeah. I mean, when I’m sick, it always helps if Mom makes me some special food. It helps you make believe you’re not sick—just resting while people bring you good stuff.”

“Right now, Colin’s got a bad sore throat, so he probably can’t eat cookies. But thanks for the thought. Maybe we can make him some later this week.” She gave Carol a warm smile while her own mood took a few steps toward positive.

“Okay.” Carol picked up the chocolate chip cookie recipe and attached it to the bar above the counter with a magnet.

Peaches left her alone, figuring she’d ask for help if she needed it. She was all for Carol learning to cook at age twelve, since that was how she’d first discovered her own talents.

They restocked the bakery cases in the deli, while Ruth moved behind the counter to begin ringing up their late afternoon customers. The cookies flew out the door again. Maybe they should double the number they made tomorrow.

Ruth stuck around until six for a change. Normally, she left Peaches to close. Peaches raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“I want to hear your ideas about Colin’s living situation, but I didn’t necessarily want to do it around Carol.”

“Right.” Peaches took off her apron and cap, fluffing her curls back into shape. There was something to be said for unruly hair. At least it never looked much worse than it did normally.

Ruth sighed. “I told Liam that Colin was down with a serious case of tonsillitis. He says he didn’t know he was living out there.”

“You think he suspected?”

“I think so. I mean, Bec lived in that office for a couple of years. It’s tough, but it’s not impossible.”

Peaches folded her arms. “Bec lived inside a building with insulation, furniture, and a real bed. Colin was living in a drafty shack with only a baseboard heater and a sleeping bag. It’s no wonder he got sick.”

Ruth shrugged. “He chose to live there. He must have thought it was okay.”

“He’s been trying to find a place he can afford, but he hasn’t had any luck.” Peaches raised her chin. “You know what rents are like around here in the high season.”

“Liam said the beer he’s been brewing is okay, mostly.” Ruth leaned back against the counter. “He has to come up with something for the pub, but Liam’s giving him time.”

“But he doesn’t get paid for brewing.” Peaches picked up a dust cloth to give herself something to do. “The only money he’s making is his salary here, which is minimum wage.”

“He might be able to live in the apartment at the brewery,” Ruth mused. “Except I think Bec’s got a problem with him working in the main building. She’s still pissed with him.”

Peaches knew she should be sympathetic with Bec’s feelings, but at the moment, she really just wanted her to get over it. She started wiping down the glass on the display case. “I’ve got a compromise solution if you’re okay with it. There’s a storage room upstairs. It’s not much, but there’s a bathroom up there, too. If he cleaned it out, he could live up there. It would give us some extra security around the place and give him a room to live in. You know there’ve been some burglaries down the block.”

Ruth nodded slowly. “That actually used to be an apartment. I lived there with Carol when she was a baby, before we bought my uncle’s place.”

Peaches rubbed at a spot with her polishing cloth. “So you’re okay with him living up there?”

“I’m okay with it. The security is a good idea.”

Peaches blew out a breath, straightening. “Great. That’s settled, then.”

“Could I ask why you’re so concerned about his welfare?” Ruth gave her a half smile.

Peaches’s cheeks grew warm. “He’s a friend.”

Ruth picked up her coat, her half smile still in place. “Based on what I know about Colin’s past behavior, I’d say you should watch yourself. He’s really good at taking, but he may not have figured out the giving part yet.”

Peaches watched her head out the door, folding her cloth to lay it on the counter. Ruth had a legitimate point, but she’d still help Colin if she could. And if he turned out to be a rat bastard, well, she’d come across those before.

She just really hoped this wasn’t one of those times.