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“Sorry for the inconvenience. Mom forgot her purse in the office.”
“That’s what Katie said. I phoned Rosemary, and she said it was okay to let you take it.”
“Sarah,” called a frantic voice. “I keep stirring this, but I don’t know what else to do.”
Sarah raced to the back of the shop. Tyler followed her through a bright kitchen filled with stainless steel appliances to one that was smaller but no less tidy. She was already at one of the stoves, stirring the contents of a large pot.
Chocolate, he realized. Obviously he’d come at an inconvenient time, though he wondered if there was ever a convenient time with Sarah.
She checked a large thermometer and gave the mixture an extra stir before pouring it into a rectangular pan.
“It’s fudge,” Sarah explained, casting him a glance.
“Do you make all the candy you sell?”
“It’s all made here, yes. But I have an employee who does most of it. She’s taking a personal day, so I’m filling in. Usually I focus on developing new recipes. Tonight I may experiment with lemon meringue fudge.”
Tyler frowned. “Fudge is supposed to be chocolate.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Not the way I make it. Do you like cappuccino?”
“I suppose.”
“Then come with me.”
Sarah returned to the front of the bakery and turned on the lights in a display case. She cut a piece from a cream-colored slab and gave it to him on a napkin. “This is my cappuccino fudge.”
He took a bite and the rich essence of coffee and cinnamon rolled across his tongue. Though he wasn’t big on candy, he was disappointed when the last of it was gone. “That’s pretty good,” he admitted. “I concede that fudge doesn’t have to be chocolate.”
She served him another couple of samples, including one named Hogwarts Special.
“Hogwarts Special?” Tyler echoed.
“For the Harry Potter fans. The books talk about pumpkin juice, but this is mostly pumpkin spice. I haven’t managed to get more than a mild pumpkin flavor in the fudge. Blackberry is easier because the berries are so tangy.”
Sarah was clearly enthused about her creations, enough to indulge even him with samples when he must have been a thorn in her side for their entire acquaintance. Yet a thought kept tapping in the back of Tyler’s brain...was she being nice because she thought he’d made the anonymous complaint?
She couldn’t be worried about passing an inspection. From what he’d seen, both of her kitchens were modern, spotless and pleasant places to work.
“I don’t cook and I’ve never met anyone who invented recipes,” he said, genuinely curious about the process. As a kid, his mom had hired a chef or a caterer, and he’d relied mostly on restaurants as an adult.
“Chefs and bakers invent recipes all the time. I’ll get Rosemary’s purse.”
Sarah left and returned a minute later. She put the purse inside one of the Sweet Treat’s shopping bags before handing it to him, probably assuming he wouldn’t want to walk back through Poppy Gold carrying a woman’s handbag. It was true. While he didn’t think he was irredeemably chauvinistic, he also wasn’t exactly enlightened, either.
CHAPTER FOUR (#u347fd3cf-8318-5e2e-85e4-6fa10251c84c)
BACK AT THE SUITE, Tyler found his mother had kept the food warm so they could eat together. It was an awkward meal that might have gone better if family dinners had been a Prentiss tradition. But even on holidays, his parents had attended social events.
After they finished eating, he cleared his throat.
“Nathan, as you know, I talked to Dr. Chin at the rehab center today. He’s sending recommendations for you to follow while you’re here in California. Since Mom has a job, I’ll be taking you to your appointments. Unless you decide to return to rehab, that is.”
His brother glared. “That isn’t happening. And I don’t need his recommendations. I’m doing fine. As for appointments, if I never see another doctor, I’ll be happy.”
Rosemary straightened. “That isn’t what we agreed to when you wanted to leave the rehab center. I’ve let it go longer than I intended, but don’t think I’ve forgotten.”
It was nice to see she hadn’t completely lost touch with reality. Tyler had envisioned her believing that love and sunshine would be enough to resolve Nathan’s PTSD and restore him physically. While it might be possible, he’d do a whole lot better with treatment.
Tyler leaned forward. “I don’t suppose a tiny town like Glimmer Creek has many medical services. We’ll probably have to drive to the nearest city for doctors and therapy.”
His brother looked ready to argue, so Tyler fixed him with a hard stare. “In the hospital, you told me you wanted to go back on active duty. That isn’t likely to happen without therapy. Or have you decided to leave the service?”
Resentment flickered in Nathan’s eyes. “I don’t want a medical discharge. The army is going to do a medical review in a few months to determine my fitness.”
Tyler ached, suspecting Nathan questioned whether he could pass the review. Maybe he couldn’t. Maybe he no longer wanted to return to active duty—after his personal tour of hell, nobody would blame him for deciding he’d had enough.
“We don’t have to talk about this now, do we?” their mother asked in a shaky voice, and Tyler looked at her sharply. Her eyes were wide and her cheeks were pale.
“No,” he and his brother said in unison. Taking care of her was an old habit.
Nathan put his hand over hers. “It’s okay, Mom, I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”
“You’re entitled.”
“Naw, but don’t worry, I’ll see a doctor. Right now I’m tired, so I’m going to lie down.”
She smiled shakily. “Is there anything I can get you?”
Nathan shook his head and limped out of the kitchen.
Tyler turned to his mother.
“Did you have to mention him going back on active duty?” she asked tearfully. “He’s sacrificed enough.”
“It’s important. Nathan has to want to get better. Deciding what he wants and how to get it will motivate him.”
“I realize that. And I’m sorry I didn’t get him to a doctor earlier. He’s just so much calmer here, and I wanted to give him time. Besides, Kurt is good for him. They’ve shared a lot of the same experiences, and Nathan respects his opinion.”
“Some of Nathan’s doctors and therapists at the Walter Reed Medical Center were combat vets, too. What makes Kurt Fullerton different?”
“He just is.”
She began clearing the table, shaking her head when he offered to help. So Tyler got out his laptop to send an email to his office, asking them to ship basic drafting equipment to him at Poppy Gold. He didn’t know how long he’d have to be in California, but he had commissions with deadlines and couldn’t sit idly by.
Yet he kept shooting worried looks at his mom, who was now fussing with the refrigerator. His relationship with his father might have been complicated, but his death had shaken Tyler to the core. When it came to his mother, he didn’t want to confront feelings like that again for a very long time.
* * *
THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON, Rosemary worked at the bakery’s front counter to stay out of the way of the building inspection, but as soon as Stephen Seibert left, she hurried to the office and saw Sarah looking tense.
“Is something wrong?” Rosemary asked. “You can’t have failed the inspection.”
“I passed, but Stephen told me the county is expecting to implement new building codes next year. I meet the state codes, but not all the new ones that have been proposed for Glimmer County. So I’ll have to remodel. Again.”
“How long do you have to comply?”
“Within twelve months of the effective date. The problem is there may not be enough space to enlarge the kitchens. Stephen will send a detailed analysis in a few days.” Sarah squared her shoulders and smiled brightly. “But don’t worry, I’ll figure it out. In the meantime, I’d better get busy with tasks that need doing today.”
Rosemary kept wondering how she could help, but all she could think of was to get Tyler involved. He was a gifted architect, and he might be able to come up a plan.
Except Tyler might resist. He seemed determined to stay in Glimmer Creek as long as she and Nathan were here, but he was also uncomfortable with the idea of his mother working.
When Kurt had learned about Tyler’s reaction to her job, he’d chuckled and asked if her son was worried about becoming a latchkey kid. It had made her laugh, as well, but it had also made her think. As a family they’d gone through a tremendous upheaval over the past year. Maybe that explained why Tyler didn’t want to see his mother in a new way.
Would that affect his willingness to help Sarah?
There was only one way to find out, so as soon as Rosemary got back to the Yosemite suite after work, she told Tyler about the building inspector’s news.
“She’ll need expert advice from an architect,” she concluded. “I wondered if you could take a quick look and tell her what you think.”
Tyler sighed. “I have commissions to work on while I’m here. My office is sending a drafting table and everything else I need by overnight courier.”
“Just consider it,” Rosemary implored. “What they’re asking seems terribly unfair, and you might be able to think of options the building inspector didn’t.”
* * *
“ALL RIGHT, I’LL make time,” Tyler agreed reluctantly.
On the rare occasions he’d encountered his mother’s friends since starting his career, he’d discovered they loved to get free professional services, no matter how wealthy they might be. Sarah would probably appreciate a free consult, even from him.
“Thank you, dear,” his mother said. “What would you like for dinner?”
“Order whatever you want. I’m not hungry. I thought I’d explore the town. Maybe I’ll stop by the bakery and see if Sarah wants to talk about the remodeling,” he added impulsively.
His mother’s face brightened. “That would be wonderful. She should still be there.”
Tyler’s mood was wry as he walked to Sarah’s Sweet Treats. Volunteering his advice was the diplomatic thing to do. His mother hadn’t accused him of calling in the complaint, but the faint doubt he’d seen in her eyes bothered him. He didn’t expect blind faith, but she could have asked.
Or maybe he was just being unreasonable and the thought had never occurred to her.
After all, he felt guilty for what had happened in Illinois, if only for failing to convince the owner that the design changes weren’t safe. Knowing it was the new architect’s responsibility wasn’t enough to absolve him of all blame. So maybe he was more sensitive than he needed to be.
Though it was late in the afternoon, the scents emanating from the sweet shop were richly tantalizing. Tyler opened the door and saw customers still crowding the small waiting and sitting area.
Sarah was working with two other employees, filling orders and chatting with the customers. She flicked a glance in his direction and her mouth tightened. A few minutes later, she flipped the Open sign to Closed, but it was another fifteen minutes before everyone was gone.
When it was quiet, she walked over to him. “Do you need something?”
“Mom mentioned you might need some renovations because of upcoming building code changes. She asked me to see if I can make some suggestions.”
An interesting expression crossed Sarah’s face. “That isn’t necessary. I don’t even have the full analysis from the building inspector yet.”
While Tyler had been reluctant to offer his advice, he also wasn’t used to having his services rejected. “Then maybe when you get it.”
“I don’t—” She broke off and looked at her two front-counter employees. “Hey, guys, you don’t need to stay and clean up. Put a half hour of overtime on your timesheets, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The pair left and Sarah sat opposite Tyler at the small café table. “I’m not sure why you’d offer, but it isn’t necessary. I’ll figure it out.”
“Is there any possibility of protesting the changes? Usually there’s a public comment period when regulations are changing.”
“I...” Sarah started to yawn and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, I’m short on sleep. I could protest, but the proposed rules aren’t bad. They only affect me because the restaurant and catering side of my business has gotten so huge. If I’d known code changes were coming, I would have bought a larger building to start with. Now I may need to relocate, which is too bad, because I get a huge amount of foot traffic from the tour buses.”
“That’s an even better reason for me to take a look,” Tyler said, unsure why he was pushing the issue. “Besides, a year isn’t that long when it comes to this sort of thing. If nothing else, it can be difficult to book contractors. You must have experience with that after your previous remodels.”
“Actually, my father and other family members insisted on doing most of the work,” Sarah murmured.
* * *
AS TYLER NODDED, Sarah thought about the preliminary report the building inspector had given her. She hated the idea of going into debt again, but the worst part was not knowing if another remodel was possible. She didn’t see how an extra inch of space could be gained without reducing the already-small customer area, and even that might not be enough.
“Do you think your family would be willing to help do the work again?” Tyler asked.
Sarah fought an unreasonable panic at the thought of losing her independence, which always came when she relied too heavily on family. She hadn’t been married to Douglas for that long, but she was still repairing the damage he’d done to her self-confidence.
She’d let her father take charge of the previous renovations because it had saved her a ton of money and it meant so much to him. Yet it had also made her uneasy...she was just too aware of how easy it was to start depending on someone else. Maybe some people were naturally stronger, but life had already shown how easily she could lose herself.
“I’m sure they’d want to help,” she admitted, “but they’re busy and I hate inconveniencing them.” She didn’t add that it might be impossible to stop them.
“But it’s good for the town, right? My mom mentioned this is the only bakery.”
“Yes. I always thought we needed one growing up. Even when I went to college I wanted to come back here and open this place. The plan was derailed because...er...that is, for a while, but not forgotten.”
Tyler’s eyebrows shot upward. “Why not start a chain? You could bake in a central factory and ship everything to the different sites. If you plan it right, there could be Sarah’s Sweet Treat outlets all over the Gold Country.”
“I’m not interested in factory baking, that’s why.” Sarah was annoyed, even though she hadn’t expected him to understand. “Maybe my dream isn’t as grand as being a famous architect, with clients who are desperate to have my name on their building, but I don’t want a business empire. I simply enjoy feeding people.”
Tyler’s face chilled. “Being able to call it a Prentiss building isn’t the only reason people want my designs. I’m good at what I do.”
Apparently she’d touched a nerve again.
“I’m sure you’re an excellent architect,” Sarah said, debating whether she should explain that she knew about the investigation in Illinois. No, she decided, taking another look at his arctic expression.
A gremlin inside of her wanted to goad him, but she didn’t think it was wise. It might be like catching a tiger by the tail—both hanging on and letting go would be equally dangerous.
“Then you’ll accept my professional assessment of your building,” Tyler said.
Sarah lifted her chin. The offer of free advice was tempting, but she didn’t want to be put under an obligation and couldn’t afford to hire him.
