a
delivery to make tonight.” She pushed her plate to the side and got to her feet.
“Thanks for dinner, but I have to go.”
He rose and tossed some money onto the bill. “Let me walk you
back.”
She smiled. “It’s only a couple blocks to the shop. I’m fine by
myself.”
“A gentleman never lets a lady walk home alone. My grandfather
drilled that into me.”
“A gentleman, huh?” The smile widened and her gaze assessed
him. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to disappoint your grandfather.”
They headed out the door, back into the rain. Brody unfurled
the umbrella over them, and matched his pace to Kate’s fast walk. He noted the
shadows under her eyes. From working hard, maybe too hard. She was doing exactly
what Andrew had predicted—spending her days baking and wearing herself into the
ground. Not taking care of herself. Hence the microwave dinners and shadows
under her eyes. “Do you make many deliveries yourself?”
She shook her head. “My grandparents make the daytime
deliveries—they enjoy getting out and seeing folks in the neighborhood, but they
don’t like to drive at night, so I handle those. I don’t mind, but when I’ve
been working all day…well, it can make for some long days.”
“You need not one assistant, but a whole army of them.”
She laughed. “I agree. And as soon as Joanne gets back and I
have some time to run an ad and do some interviews, I’ll be hiring, so I don’t
end up in this boat again.”
They had reached the shop. Brody waited while she unlocked the
door and let them inside. He set the wet umbrella by the door. Kate turned
toward him. “Thanks for walking me back.”
“No problem.”
“And, I’m really sorry about having to send you to another
bakery for the cupcake order. If there was a way to fit that in my schedule,
believe me I would. I just had too many existing orders and not enough time.”
She grinned and put her hands up. “There’s only one me.”
“You could get a temp,” he said. “I’ve hired them when my nurse
is on vacation. And during busy seasons.”
She waved that suggestion off. “Trying to find someone trained
in cooking and willing to work just those few days…it’s almost more work to do
that than it is to just handle it myself. And right now, my time is so limited,
I can’t imagine adding to my To Do list.”
She reminded Brody of himself when he had been an intern in
medical school, burning the candle at both ends, and sometimes from the middle,
too. “How are you going to get all the orders done? And make deliveries and do
paperwork and all the stuff that goes with owning your own business?”
“Working hard. Working long hours. I do most of the baking
after the shop closes, which means for very long nights sometimes.” She
shrugged. “I’ve done it before. I can do it again.”
He saw the tension in her face, the shadows under her eyes, the
weight of so much responsibility on her shoulders. Andrew had told him, in that
long, long conversation that had lingered long into the night while Brody prayed
and medicine failed, that his sister had poured her whole life into the shop,
giving up dates, parties with friends, everything, to keep it running when the
economy was down, and get it strong enough to take on the next challenge of
expansion. Baking made her happy, especially during the tumultuous years of
their childhood and after their parents’ divorce, Andrew had said, and seeing
his older sister happy had become Andrew’s top mission. The business had meant
as much to Andrew as it did to Kate. Andrew would never let it falter, even for
a few days.
Nor would he want Brody to just keep throwing words at the
problem. He had tasked Brody with making sure Kate moved forward, found that
happiness again. That meant doing what Brody did best—digging in with both
hands.
“What if I helped you?” Brody said.
“You?” She laughed as she crossed the room and flipped on a
light. “Didn’t you tell me you’re
delivery to make tonight.” She pushed her plate to the side and got to her feet.
“Thanks for dinner, but I have to go.”
He rose and tossed some money onto the bill. “Let me walk you
back.”
She smiled. “It’s only a couple blocks to the shop. I’m fine by
myself.”
“A gentleman never lets a lady walk home alone. My grandfather
drilled that into me.”
“A gentleman, huh?” The smile widened and her gaze assessed
him. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to disappoint your grandfather.”
They headed out the door, back into the rain. Brody unfurled
the umbrella over them, and matched his pace to Kate’s fast walk. He noted the
shadows under her eyes. From working hard, maybe too hard. She was doing exactly
what Andrew had predicted—spending her days baking and wearing herself into the
ground. Not taking care of herself. Hence the microwave dinners and shadows
under her eyes. “Do you make many deliveries yourself?”
She shook her head. “My grandparents make the daytime
deliveries—they enjoy getting out and seeing folks in the neighborhood, but they
don’t like to drive at night, so I handle those. I don’t mind, but when I’ve
been working all day…well, it can make for some long days.”
“You need not one assistant, but a whole army of them.”
She laughed. “I agree. And as soon as Joanne gets back and I
have some time to run an ad and do some interviews, I’ll be hiring, so I don’t
end up in this boat again.”
They had reached the shop. Brody waited while she unlocked the
door and let them inside. He set the wet umbrella by the door. Kate turned
toward him. “Thanks for walking me back.”
“No problem.”
“And, I’m really sorry about having to send you to another
bakery for the cupcake order. If there was a way to fit that in my schedule,
believe me I would. I just had too many existing orders and not enough time.”
She grinned and put her hands up. “There’s only one me.”
“You could get a temp,” he said. “I’ve hired them when my nurse
is on vacation. And during busy seasons.”
She waved that suggestion off. “Trying to find someone trained
in cooking and willing to work just those few days…it’s almost more work to do
that than it is to just handle it myself. And right now, my time is so limited,
I can’t imagine adding to my To Do list.”
She reminded Brody of himself when he had been an intern in
medical school, burning the candle at both ends, and sometimes from the middle,
too. “How are you going to get all the orders done? And make deliveries and do
paperwork and all the stuff that goes with owning your own business?”
“Working hard. Working long hours. I do most of the baking
after the shop closes, which means for very long nights sometimes.” She
shrugged. “I’ve done it before. I can do it again.”
He saw the tension in her face, the shadows under her eyes, the
weight of so much responsibility on her shoulders. Andrew had told him, in that
long, long conversation that had lingered long into the night while Brody prayed
and medicine failed, that his sister had poured her whole life into the shop,
giving up dates, parties with friends, everything, to keep it running when the
economy was down, and get it strong enough to take on the next challenge of
expansion. Baking made her happy, especially during the tumultuous years of
their childhood and after their parents’ divorce, Andrew had said, and seeing
his older sister happy had become Andrew’s top mission. The business had meant
as much to Andrew as it did to Kate. Andrew would never let it falter, even for
a few days.
Nor would he want Brody to just keep throwing words at the
problem. He had tasked Brody with making sure Kate moved forward, found that
happiness again. That meant doing what Brody did best—digging in with both
hands.
“What if I helped you?” Brody said.
“You?” She laughed as she crossed the room and flipped on a
light. “Didn’t you tell me you’re
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