The Tea Shop on Lavender Lane (Life in Icicle Falls) (12 page)

Arielle had reached the door by now. “Brandon, come on,” she demanded irritably.

“I’d better go,” he said.

“Yeah, before she tightens the leash any more,” his brother agreed.

Brandon just rolled his eyes and smiled good-naturedly. “I’ll catch up with you on the Fourth,” he said and hurried after Arielle.

“What does he see in her?” Bailey asked as soon as the door had shut behind them.

“Good in bed?” Eric mused, then looked embarrassed, as if he’d somehow insulted Bailey. “Sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be. I was thinking that myself.” It was either that or the witch theory. “It won’t last,” she decided.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” he said gently and then left her to stew in her own jealous juices.

Chapter Ten

B
y Wednesday Bailey was almost resigned to the finality of her romantic loss and was pouring herself into updating the lodge’s Facebook page with Muffin, Olivia’s cat, perched on the desktop, supervising.

“You have to post more content,” she told Olivia.

“Well, honey, that’s great, but I’m not sure what else we can put up. We have pictures of the rooms and the mountains and Icicle Creek. And our little furry queen of the lodge,” she added, petting Muffin, who purred appreciatively.

“I think it would be great to post pictures of what we serve for breakfast. We can do that on the website and on the Facebook page and call it
What’s For Breakfast.
”

Olivia’s round face broke into a smile. “That’s a lovely idea!”

“Let’s start with tomorrow’s breakfast,” Bailey said. “What are you serving?”

“My egg strata, rhubarb muffins and fruit salad. How does that sound?”

As if Olivia needed
her
seal of approval. “It sounds yummy,” Bailey said, and for a wistful moment she wished she could be in the kitchen helping prepare that meal.

No, you’re perfectly happy doing what you’re doing,
she reminded herself. And posting the photographs she took around the lodge was fun. Earlier that morning she’d posted a picture of lupine and gotten lots of likes. Food would get even more.

“Pictures of food will definitely attract attention,” she told Olivia.

“Yes, who doesn’t love food?” Olivia said and patted her round tummy.

As Bailey had predicted, her post the next day of a plate filled with Olivia’s morning offerings drew plenty of likes and comments. One fan posted:
I think I need to come to Icicle Falls for an eat-a-thon.

Come on up. You’ll love it here,
Bailey replied.

Icicle Falls was a great place to live, and a woman could be happy here, no matter what kind of work she was doing. But the lingering aroma of bacon drifted out from the dining room to where she sat, making her hungry for something more than food.

So what if she wasn’t catering? She was taking pictures of culinary creations, and that was almost as good. She looked at the breakfast picture again and sighed.

“Tough day at work?” said a male voice, making her jump.

She turned to see Eric approaching.

“Hi,” she greeted him. “What’s the verdict on 308?”

“I should have the toilet fixed by this afternoon, so go ahead and book the room for the weekend.”

She nodded and made a note of that, the picture of efficiency.

He cleared his throat. “So, you doing okay?”

“Of course,” she said brightly, forgetting her momentary sadness. “Your mom is great to work for.”

“Yeah, she is.” He hesitated, then asked, “So, uh, the work here, that’s okay? You don’t miss...your old life?”

Bailey could feel the heat of embarrassment on her face. Of course he knew what had happened in L.A. Everyone in town did.

“No,” she said firmly. “Not a bit of it.”

He nodded shrewdly. “That’s why you’re looking at pictures of food and sighing.”

She gave a little one-shouldered shrug.

“I guess that’s better than sitting around sighing over my idiot brother.”

She supposed he’d seen her do that often enough over the years. “He’s not the only man in the world,” she told both Eric and herself.

“Not by a long shot. The world’s full of people. It’s stupid to waste time on the ones who don’t appreciate you.”

That was good advice. In fact, it was downright wise. “Hey, you’re pretty smart,” she said.

“Getting there.”

“So, you know this from personal experience?”

“You could say that.”

Had Eric been where she’d been? She was about to ask when his mother entered the lobby. He gave the counter a goodbye tap and moved away.

Bailey watched as he stopped to kiss his mom on the cheek. Eric was a good son. He’d be a good boyfriend, too. She needed an Eric Wallace, someone who wouldn’t skip off to Jackson Hole and take up with a snobby artist. Why couldn’t his younger brother be more like him?

Because if he was, then he wouldn’t be Brandon. Sigh.

You’ll find someone,
she assured herself. Meanwhile, it was a beautiful, sunny day, and she had a nice job. She had a lot to be thankful for.

“The picture of today’s breakfast is getting a whole bunch of likes,” she informed Olivia. Olivia had taken off her favorite kitchen apron, but she still had a smudge of flour on the side of her nose.

“That’s nice to hear,” she said. “I’m ready for a break. Would you like to join me for a cup of tea?”

“But if anyone needs me...” Bailey began.

“Don’t worry,” Olivia said. “Anyone who needs us will ring the bell, and we can hear it in the kitchen. Anyway, by now our guests are all off shopping or hiking.”

They had several remaining: three older couples and two middle-aged sisters who had come up on a whim. Just as Bailey was about to leave her post, the sisters walked through the lobby.

“That was a great breakfast,” one, a petite fiftysomething brunette, said to Bailey.

As if she’d cooked it. A small part of her wished she had. “Here’s the cook,” she said, pointing to Olivia.

“We really enjoyed it.” The woman smiled. “It’s worth staying here just for the food.”

Olivia murmured her thanks, and the women went up the floral-carpeted stairs to their room.

“It’s always satisfying when people appreciate your hard work,” Olivia said as she led the way to the kitchen. “I’m sure you had plenty of people who appreciated what you made, too.”

Bailey had. Every time she’d catered a party people had raved about the food. And she’d always picked up at least one new customer. Still, all those compliments together couldn’t stand up to the weight of what had happened with Samba.

Bailey mumbled a yes and hoped Olivia would move on to a new subject.

She was heading over to the little table set up with chairs in a corner of the big commercial kitchen when Olivia said, “You know what would be lovely with our tea? Scones. I think your mother told me you came up with a special scone recipe that uses lavender.”

Just because Bailey was no longer catering didn’t mean she no longer liked talking about food. “I did. And it’s got white chocolate in it, too.”

“I have some lavender buds. I use them for my sugar cookies. Let’s make some scones.”

Baking with Olivia would be like when she was a kid, dusted in flour, rolling out cookies and hanging on Olivia’s every word about the secret of not overhandling the dough. Bailey smiled and hurried to wash her hands.

By the time she was finished, Olivia had the ingredients assembled, and in a matter of minutes the treats were ready on the baking sheet.

“I can hardly wait to try these,” Olivia said as Bailey slid them into the oven.

“You’re going to love them,” Bailey promised her. Then, remembering her conversation with Eric and feeling nosy, she asked, “So, does Eric have a girlfriend?” Olivia looked at her hopefully, and she quickly added, “I mean, something he said made me wonder if he did or, um, used to.”

Olivia sighed. “There was a girl in Cashmere he liked. It didn’t work out, though. He moped around over her for ages.”

Bailey could identify with that.

“But I think he’s finally put that behind him. At least I hope he has. He’s such a good man. I’d like to see him find someone special.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand why it’s so hard for you young people to settle down. When I was your age, we were all getting married at twenty. Young people today are too picky.”

“I don’t know if it’s being picky,” Bailey said, “but once you’ve fallen for someone and it doesn’t work out...”

Olivia patted her arm. “Brandon’s my baby boy, and I love him dearly, but he’s a twit. You’ll meet your Mr. Right. He’ll come along when you least expect it—mark my words.”

Bailey couldn’t imagine finding anyone more right than Brandon, but she nodded gamely.

“Now, let’s see,” Olivia said, “do we want to make some mock Devonshire cream to go with our scones?”

Fifteen minutes later the scones were out of the oven, perfectly formed and golden-brown. Olivia set four on a pretty serving plate and suggested they go enjoy the comfy chairs in the lobby. Once she’d relaxed in a comfy, overstuffed chair, Olivia took one of the scones and bit into it. Bailey watched as her mentor chewed, then closed her eyes. “Delicious,” Olivia said. “Lovely taste combination.”

Her praise was a balm to Bailey’s wounded soul.

Olivia savored another bite, then said, “I hate to see your talents wasted here.”

“Oh, they’re not,” Bailey assured her. A sudden, scary thought occurred. Maybe Olivia was trying to find a nice way to fire her. She launched into a list of everything she was doing right. “I think the website looks really great, especially the food pictures. And I like helping people check in.”

“You’re doing a wonderful job,” Olivia said, and Bailey breathed a sigh of relief. “But I think you’re meant for greater things than manning our reception desk.”

Once upon a time Bailey, too, had thought she was meant for great things. Maybe she still was. Maybe she’d become a famous food photographer. Except that taking pictures of someone else’s culinary creations would be like settling for second best.

“Don’t let one bad experience stop you from doing what you’re passionate about,” Olivia said. “You Sterling women are made of sterner stuff.”

Well, her older sister was—that was for sure. Sammy had saved the family company. Sometimes Bailey wished she was more like her.

“I don’t think I am,” she confessed. Otherwise she’d have stayed in L.A. and fought for her business. She’d have sued Samba Barrett. She’d have...done something. But no matter what she might have done, it would’ve been too late to save her culinary reputation. So what good did it do to be brave?

“You are,” Olivia said. “We all get knocked down at some point in life. And that’s where you are right now. You’ve had a crisis of confidence. But I know you’ll pick yourself up and start cooking again. What you end up doing may not look exactly like what you did before, but you’ll find your way.” Now she pointed a finger at Bailey. “And when you see that path, when you get excited again, don’t let fear turn off the spigot. Let the energy flow. That’s what I did after my husband died, and look how well we’re doing.”

“You make it seem so easy,” Bailey said.

Olivia chuckled. “Oh, believe me, it’s not at first. You were so young back then, you probably don’t remember when George died.”

“I do.” Bailey remembered Olivia seated at her mother’s kitchen table, crying, Mama with an arm around her shoulders. They’d all gone to the memorial service, and Bailey had spent a lot of time glancing over at Brandon, who’d been trying not to cry, sending him comforting thoughts.

“I had no head for business, and sometimes I felt like I was drowning. You see, it was a dream we’d shared, something we’d planned on doing together. With him gone...” Olivia picked off a piece of her scone and studied it, then crumbled it between her fingers, watching the broken bits fall onto her plate.

“I can’t imagine what that was like,” Bailey said. Suddenly her troubles looked as small as the crumbs on Olivia’s plate.

“It was hard, but we carried on. And I’m so glad we did. It wasn’t the dream I had of running this place with my husband, but it’s turned out okay, and it’s given me a lot of pleasure.” She smiled at Bailey. “The wonderful thing about dreams is that you may wake up from one, but there’s always another one waiting. I don’t know what God has in mind for you, but I know it’s something special.”

Bailey nodded and murmured her thanks. She wanted to believe every word Olivia said. Before that awful incident in L.A. she had. She’d skipped through her childhood, enjoying her status as the spoiled baby of the family. Even after losing her father she’d managed to still find joy in life (usually in the kitchen). And when she’d left home she’d gone with a suitcase full of cooking utensils, her small savings, a check from her mother and stepfather and a heart filled with hope. She’d had every expectation that her dreams would come true. Why not? She loved to create in the kitchen; she liked people; she trusted people.

And that, she realized, had been her big mistake. But how could you go through life
not
trusting people?

One of their guests was moving toward the front desk, and that signaled the end of Bailey’s chat with Olivia. But it had given her plenty to think about. The wonderful smells from breakfast still haunted the lobby. Now they whispered, “Come back.”

But then she thought of all those horrible headlines and plugged her ears.

And she was right to. Morgan Withers, one of the maids, drove that home to her later that day. Morgan had graduated from Icicle Falls High the year before and was still trying to find her direction in life.

“Who was in 201?” she asked Bailey.

“An older guy.” He’d been a nice old man. A little doddery, but very sweet.

“That explains it,” Morgan said with a frown. “He missed the toilet.”

Eeew. Bailey wrinkled her nose. “I could have gone all day without hearing that.”

“Well, I could have gone all day without cleaning that,” Morgan said with a scowl. “Sometimes I hate this job.”

Okay, so it wasn’t fun cleaning up after people, but Olivia paid well, and Bailey found herself mildly incensed on Olivia’s behalf. “You don’t have to work here,” she said.

“Yeah? Well, where am I supposed to work with just a high school diploma?” Morgan growled. “Herman’s?”

“I don’t know,” Bailey said. She was having enough trouble figuring out her own life. “What do you want to do?”

Morgan looked wistful. “I want to be a nurse.”

She’d have much bigger messes to deal with as a nurse than she had now, but Bailey decided this wasn’t the time to point that out. “That’s really noble. You should do it.”

“I can’t afford to go to school.”

“You could save up,” Bailey said. She’d saved up to start her catering business.

“I’ve been trying, but it’s really hard.”