Authors: Cindy Caldwell
“
O
omph
,” Sadie said as she collapsed into a chair in the dining room after the restaurant had closed and the dishes were washed, dried and put away. This was how it had been every night since the restaurant had opened and she’d collapsed into bed at the end of each day.
Tripp looked up from the ledger he was scribbling in and smiled. “You look exhausted,” he said, reaching for her hand.
“So do you.”
As tired as she was, she still enjoyed seeing Tripp’s face light up as he got to make the dishes he’d put on the menu. She was glad that after this loan payment, they’d be able to hire some help, as Suzanne had to get back to the twins and Sadie could use some rest herself.
The one thing she was worried about was Tripp, but he’d agreed that when they had some help and things were settled down, they could close two nights a week and try to recover. But for now, they were still getting started and things were critical.
She’d asked him earlier in the evening if they could go over the finances, as Suzanne had insisted. The bank manager would be coming in a few days, and she’d decided that it was better to know than not know—especially if they were in a pickle—and Tripp had agreed.
She poured another cup of coffee and watched him, his hair falling over his forehead as he studied the books, so concentrated that he seemed to have forgotten she was sitting next to him. She sat quietly as he looked at the figures, re-totaled the columns and went back to check once more.
He set his pencil down and sat back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose and pushing his hair back out of his eyes.
“Tripp, what is it?”
She leaned forward, her elbows on the table, hoping for the best.
He slid the ledger over to Sadie and leaned back again.
“Sadie, you ran your own business. Did you do the books?”
“Yes,” she said, picking up the pencil. “Would you like me to go over this?”
“Would you mind? I need to make sure that I’m right about this. Even though I hope I’m not. I’ll get some more coffee while you’re taking a look.”
As the kitchen door swung behind him, Sadie turned slowly to the ledger he’d prepared. Her heart sank and the butterflies in her stomach took flight. It didn’t take long to see that they were almost in the red for this month, far from making enough to pay the loan installment.
She sighed as Tripp returned and sat back down, his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands.
“Is it as bad as I think it is?” he said, shaking his head slowly. “I thought that people were enjoying the food, loving the restaurant. And we seem to be full all the time.”
She set the pencil down slowly in the center of the binder and looked up at him, his green eyes narrowed with concern. She didn’t want to break his heart, but she knew that something had to change and decided it was best just to say it. Again. She wouldn’t be a good partner if she didn’t.
Her heart skipped a beat. Was that what he thought? That his food wasn’t good? “No, no, Tripp. It’s not that. Not at all.”
She took his hand as he turned his face toward hers. “It’s a wonderful menu. People really enjoy it. But I think there are a couple of things happening.”
“What do you mean?” He plopped his chin into his hand again as his elbow rested on the table.
“Yes, we are full. But you know as well as I do that the dishes on the menu take quite a while to prepare. And customers have been content waiting with the bread we serve, but they wait a bit for their order, and they linger as the restaurant is so lovely.” Her heart calmed a bit as she saw a smile spread.
“I’m glad they linger, and I’m glad they like what we serve them.” He shook his head once more, tapping the ledger. “But we won’t be able to serve them anything if this continues.”
Sadie thought back to the comments of the customers about Tripp’s trail food—how many times they’d requested it. She’d shared it with Tripp, but at the time he’d dismissed it. Now that they were in dire straits, she hoped he’d be a little more open to the idea.
T
ripp had been
quiet on the way home as Sadie shared the comments of the customers and the looks of delight on their faces as his trail dishes had passed them by. She’d mentioned it before, but he’d dismissed it, focusing on the menu he’d lovingly created, sure that it was what people would want.
“I don’t know, Sadie. This is something that I’ve wanted to do my whole life. I love it, and I know the people love the food, too,” he said. His face fell into his hands as they sat at the kitchen table.
“You’ve seen the numbers just like I have, Tripp. I know this is hard, and I think the menu is wonderful, but we have to give people what they want. Not what
we
think they want.”
Sadie felt the coin bag jingle in her pocket. She looked from Tripp to the ledger and made her decision. She lifted the bag from her pocket and set it down in front of him.
He lifted his head and looked at the velvet bag. Picking it up, he jingled it and his brows furrowed as he poured the coins out, taking in a deep breath as they spun and skittered over the surface.
He looked to her for an answer, his surprise etched on his face. “Where did you get this? There’s a lot of money here.”
Her pulse quickened and her eyes glowed with pride as she said, “This is just what I made in one day, Tripp. With what I’ve made so far and what the restaurant has pulled in, we have enough to pay the next installment on the loan , and if we keep on with the meat pies—“
His stool tipped and clattered to the ground as he stood and put the velvet bag down on the counter.
“Meat pies? What do you mean, meat pies?” His face had reddened and his forehead was wrinkled in a frown.
Sadie rushed through the story of Mr. Lewis—how he’d come to ask for help and how it had turned into a side business of its own.
He picked up the stool as she spoke, sitting back down and scooping up the money while he listened in silence.
She finally got the last of the story out with a whoosh, and smiled triumphantly as she said, “And this is what he brought to me today, for the meat pies I gave him this morning. Those seem to be very popular and we could put them on the menu.”
He set the coins in stacks neatly on the counter. He’d periodically glanced up at her while he set them up, and when she finished, he stood slowly.
Turning to her, he said, “That’s a fair bit of money, Sadie. And you’ve been collecting that much since we opened the restaurant?”
She picked up a dish towel and wrung it in her hands as she realized that he was not nearly as excited as she’d hoped he would be.
As he crossed his arms over his chest, she said, “Not exactly. It started out a little more slowly, but it’s going well now.” She cleared her throat, folded the towel and set it on the counter, not meeting his glare.
“So I slave away on these creations and you sell these meat pies behind my back?”
Sadie thought of Suzanne’s words before, that she should have told him, but she pushed them to the back of her mind and turned to him, looking into his eyes.
“Tripp Morgan, it wasn’t intentionally behind your back. It was just something that I liked to do. And isn’t it a good thing I did? We can pay the next installment on the mortgage with what I’ve made.”
He shook his head slowly as he sat back down on the stool.
“I appreciate that, but this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. The restaurant was supposed to be bringing in that much, and more.”
“And that’s what I’m trying to tell you,” she said, sitting down beside him and placing her hand on his arm. “It
can
make that much money, and lots more, if you would change the menu, and add the dishes that people have been asking for. They want them badly, Tripp.”
She smiled as she squeezed his hand, remembering the conversation she’d had with the customers, and particularly the stack of bread in the napkin of one of them to take home.
His shoulders sagged as he sat before her. She remained silent as he fingered the stacks of coins on the counter. After a few minutes, he stood and rested his hands on the counter, looking out the window.
“I can’t do it, Sadie. I’ve cooked all of that before, and left it behind. I stopped for a reason, and that reason hasn’t changed. I put months and months of effort and a lot of Beau’s money into this and it just can’t fail. I’ll have to think of something else, some other way to make it work. And if you don’t want to be my partner in this, I understand. You could sell your meat pies on your own and do very well, but don’t expect me to change what I’m doing. I just can’t, Sadie. I promised Katie.”
Her heart sank as he turned toward the door. She remembered that Katie was the wife of Beau and Hank’s mother out on the ranch. What she didn’t understand was what she had to do with Tripp and the restaurant.
Her head fell into her hands as he started up the stairs. She’d thought her idea was a good one and had been so proud of what she’d done with the meat pies, and now it seemed that all she’d done was made it worse. Much worse.
S
adie wiped
at angry tears that refused to stop falling as she changed into her night dress and sat at the vanity. She gazed for a moment into the mirror as she reached up and pulled the pins from her hair, allowing her long, blonde hair to fall in waves past her shoulders.
“How could he possibly think this is not a good idea?” she asked her reflection. “It’s a brilliant idea. The best idea. And who is this Katie person, anyway?”
As she tugged the brush through her hair, her anger turned to sadness. As her strokes grew longer and slower, she sighed, wishing that Tripp had trusted her enough to tell her about Katie, and what it all meant to him.
She set the brush down, too exhausted from her tears to braid her hair for the night, but sleep eluded her. She stared at the shadows on the pine ceiling cast by her candle, and her thoughts turned to her future. She’d come all this way to be with Suzanne. If Tripp no longer wanted her as his partner, where would she go? She felt she could make a go of a bakery, but would that be the right thing to do? Tripp would likely want her out of town on the first train.
As her tears welled once more, she thought of actually leaving Tripp. The clenching of her heart and flutter in her belly when she thought of him—his eyes and his intensity and passion when he cooked, the soft touch of his hand, the joy of his laughter—told her in no uncertain terms that she cared for him. And deeply.
She’d decided that it was something she had to put aside and deal with tomorrow, and was just drifting off to sleep when she was startled by a knock on her door and the sound of the door knob. She sat up like a shot, reaching for her robe that was draped across the foot of her bed. She’d barely gotten it on and walked to the door when Tripp poked his head in.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I saw the light under your door and thought you might still be awake,” he said, his eyes locked on hers and his head cocked to one side.
Her heart was in her throat as she said, “What is it, Tripp? I imagined you wouldn’t want to see me at all after this evening.”
She broke their gaze and looked at the floor, sorrow tugging at her as she spoke.
Tripp let out a big sigh. He shifted the lantern to his other hand and took her hand in his. “Sadie, would you be willing to have a cup of tea with me? In the kitchen? I have something I need to tell you.”
Her head jerked up at his touch, the unmistakable feelings present even still. Even after he’d ended their partnership.
“I…I suppose that would be all right,” she said. It wasn’t as if she had to get up early to make meat pies.
“Thank you,” he said, tugging at her hand as he turned toward the stairs, not letting go until they were seated in the kitchen. As he set the lantern down and turned to her, his brow furrowed and his eyes seemed locked on her. He shook his head slightly and closed his eyes.
When he opened them, he said, “I know that you’ve wondered why this restaurant was so important to me. This particular restaurant, with this particular menu.”
Her hand moved to her chest as she realized that he was going to tell her what she’d wanted to know since they’d met. Or at least she hoped he was.
He cleared his throat and continued. “I…my…,” he said, stopping and rubbing the back of his neck.
She placed her hand on his, silently encouraging him to continue.
He covered her hand with his, sat up straight on his stool and said, “Things didn’t go so well for me when I was growing up.”
He stood and began to pace in front of the stove. “I was orphaned when I was a young teenager. My parents were killed in an accident…we were all in the accident…on the way from Chicago to Tucson. My father had made arrangements to work there, and we were all very excited. I was injured in the accident, but they were killed, and it just about took the life out of me,” he said, stopping as he leaned up against the sink.
“Oh, Tripp—” Sadie started.
He held up his hand to her and said, “Please don’t, Sadie. I’m afraid if I don’t keep talking, I won’t be able to finish. It was not a good time for me.”
She looked down at her hands and set them in her lap, vowing to wait to hear the whole story.
“Beau and his wife, Katie, were there when the accident happened. They got me to a doctor and took me home with them, even though they had seven children already.” He paused for a moment and looked out the window before he continued.
“Hank and I bunked together and became quite close, but I’d been an only child, and the six girls just scared me, I think,” he said, letting out a chuckle. “I tried to stay pretty far away from them. And, oddly enough, Katie was the best cook I’d ever met, and none of the girls liked to cook. So she kind of took me under her wing as I recovered and taught me everything she knew.”
He sat back down on the stool opposite Sadie and leaned against the counter, his face turned away from her.
He cleared his throat. “When I was old enough, I headed out on the trail with Beau and Hank as their cook. I loved everything about it, and I think I was quite good at it.”
Sadie broke her vow, saying, “I have no doubt that you were,” before she remembered she wasn’t going to say anything.
Tripp turned at the sound of her voice and smiled. “Katie thought I was talented, and wanted me to go to chef school. She and Beau didn’t see eye to eye on that one. He wanted me on the trail. But when I got injured and couldn’t go on the rides for a while, she wanted me to learn more, see more. It was something she’d always wanted to do, and since she couldn’t, she wanted to send me.”
He reached out for her hands, taking both of them in his. “Sadie, Katie got sick. Real sick, and we knew she wasn’t ever going to get better. Not really. So Beau gave in and sent me to New York. I spent all that time wanting to make her proud, have her be the first guest at the restaurant, show her what I could do. Beau and Hank and the girls wanted it, too. It was kind of a family effort.”
He hung his head at the word family. After he’d composed himself, he said, “I got word my last week of school, just when I was finishing up, that she’d passed. It was all I could do to finish up and not rush home.”
He’d stood again, and Sadie brushed away a tear that had fallen.
“Tripp, I’m so sorry,” she said, standing and moving a step closer.
He took her hands again, pulling her to him as he said, “Don’t you see, Sadie? I have to do this. I have to do this for Katie.”
She reached her arms around his neck, hugging him as her tears spread on his shoulder where she’d laid her head, her heart breaking for this man she now was certain that she loved.
They stood for a few minutes, silent as Sadie let the story sink in. She pulled her head up and looked at him. “Thank you for telling me, Tripp. I imagine your heart was broken.”
“It was,” he said, turning off the kettle as the water for their tea began to boil. He’d placed a tea steeper into a porcelain tea pot as he’d told his story, and now he filled it with the boiling water.
“So now you know why I can’t quit,” he said, sitting down as he spoke, his shoulders sagging.
She reached for his chin, pulling his face up toward hers. She took a deep breath and said, “Let me ask you something. Did Katie like the food that you prepared for the trail?”
She looked into his eyes as he thought, sitting back down in front of him.
“Actually, yes. She was my biggest fan. When we were back from the trail, she’d have parties for all the ranch-hands and friends from town—and I’d serve them all,” he said, his eyes twinkling at the memory. “She always said I was her best-kept secret, but it actually was the worst kept secret in all of Arizona.”
“So she got pleasure from—well, other people’s pleasure, right?” she said.
“Oh, yes. She was the most kind and generous person I’ve ever met. Well, until now, that is.”
He cleared his throat and turned again to look out the window, as if seeing ghosts.
She couldn’t help but smile, knowing he wouldn’t see her. “I’d venture a guess that she’d be pretty proud of anything you did in the restaurant, Tripp. If she just wanted you to learn and share what you know, it could look lots of different ways. Just so long as people are happy, right?” she said as he came around the corner toward her.
Tripp sighed. “I don’t know what we could do.”
Sadie tapped her finger on her chin. “I think I have an idea,” she said, her smile widening.