A Hero in the Making by Laurie Kingery

Author:Laurie Kingery
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-09-20T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

“Will you still be done with the tables and chairs for the café tomorrow?” Ella asked as she finished putting away the last of the supper dishes. She’d closed early tonight, for after a few early customers, it seemed as if everyone else had chosen to take supper elsewhere, and she didn’t feel inclined to wait around on the off chance someone would arrive at the café just before seven.

Ella hoped her question didn’t make her sound apprehensive, but surely it was better to know when Nate was leaving than to continue in ignorance. She knew she would miss his presence at meals and his compliments on her cooking, as well as the time they spent together most evenings. Even with the prospect of the soon-to-be-built new café to cheer her, it felt as if her life would return to its former humdrum state after he was gone.

Nate looked up from the Simpson Creek Intelligencer he’d been perusing. “I thought you might like to stroll down to the lumberyard this evening and have a look at what I’ve done. You can let me know if you like them,” he said. “I’ve been keeping them in the shed while the varnish dries.”

What’s he going to do if I say I don’t like them, she thought with a crossness born of her uncertainty, stay on and make entirely new sets?

“All right, we can do that,” she murmured, realizing he hadn’t answered her unspoken question as to when her furniture would be done—and when he would be leaving. “But I’m sure they’ll be fine. After seeing your repairs to George’s tables and chairs, I’m sure I’ll be happy with mine.”

Detwiler had been so pleased with the tables and chairs Nate had repaired for him, in fact, that he’d given Nate an unexpected double-eagle tip and declared to the occupants of the saloon that the drinks were on the house. Twenty dollars would go a long way on Nate’s travels if he was careful, Ella thought.

“You like cooking for folks, don’t you?” he asked after she’d locked the café and they walked away from it.

She looked at him, but his shadowed face revealed nothing. “I suppose I do.” She did like it, she realized. She felt valuable when people ate everything on their plates and went away with satisfied looks on their faces.

“Do you ever wonder why you like doing that?” he asked. “I mean, why that, and not something else?”

She shrugged. A man wouldn’t understand that it wasn’t as if there were that many things for a single female to do—honest things, that is, she thought as she heard one of the saloon girls utter a shrill laugh as they passed the front of the saloon.

“I learned to cook at the asylum,” she reminded him.

“Did you choose that? Or were you assigned to do it?”

“I jumped at the chance,” she told him honestly. “Cook’s helper was the only one who could be sure of getting enough to eat.”

He glanced at her, then back at the boardwalk in front of them.

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