“What are you getting her for Christmas?”
“It’s a secret.”
“I won’t tell.” Ethan looked interested. “Shoot.”
“I bought Sunshine a restaurant in town. She needs something to ground her here—besides me—and she’s such a good chef, it seemed only fair to get her one since she’s agreed to live here rather than return to Chicago.”
“That sounds like a great idea.”
“It did when we were in Europe. Now I’m not so sure. Do you think there’s too much competition in town?”
“Nah. People like to eat.”
“I have a lot of work to do on it before Christmas.”
“Tell me how I can help. I keep pretty busy, but I can always find an hour or two in my day if I look for them, and I’m pretty handy.” Ethan turned back to his chores. Cole followed along.
“Normally I don’t like to be indebted to other people, but I’ll take you up on that offer. There’s too much for one man to do in the time that’s left.”
“Call me anytime.”
“Thanks.” When Ethan was done, he followed him back to the house, feeling more hopeful than he had an hour ago. He’d missed that kind of neighborly attitude while they’d toured Europe’s big cities. While the villagers and townsmen of third-world countries reminded him of the inhabitants of Chance Creek in the way they helped each other, the city folk were more aloof.
Inside, he checked on Sunshine and found her asleep, so he joined the Cruzes for dinner and helped clean up. Then he said good-night to Autumn and gave Arianna, a bright-eyed little girl who took after her mother, a peck on the cheek, and headed upstairs.
Sunshine was still tucked into bed when he came in. All the lights were off except a soft glow emanating from an ornate lamp on the bedside table. It looked like she’d eaten the light meal Autumn had carried up to her. Her hair was a slash of gold across the plum-colored duvet cover as she slept.
Cole got ready quietly and took a quick shower. He dried off and climbed in beside her, trying hard not to wake her, but Sunshine stirred.
“Good-night,” she whispered and turned over. Her breathing evened out just moments later.
Cole kissed her softly. “Good-night.”
“You don’t have to help,” Autumn said the next morning as Sunshine emptied the dishwasher in the large professional kitchen downstairs.
“It’s my pleasure. You’re so busy—whoops!” She just caught herself from dropping a stack of clean plates. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry, Arianna!” She had nearly tripped over the little girl.
Arianna grinned up at her. Dressed in a light blue jumper and striped stockings, she was adorable. Her tiny pig tails stuck up from her head like mushrooms and her blue eyes shone with mischief.
“Come up here, pumpkin.” Autumn lifted her up and put her in a high chair stationed next to the counter. “I hate to corral her,” she confessed to Sunshine, “but she has the uncanniest ability to be right where my feet are at all times.” She gave Arianna a coloring book and a pack of crayons. “That’ll keep her occupied for about thirty seconds.”
“How on earth do you get everything done?” Sunshine watched Autumn move a mile a minute, chopping vegetables in preparation for the salad she was making for lunch. She picked up her own pace and finished emptying the dishwasher. She loved the way Autumn had decorated the large guest house for the holidays. There were boughs of greenery on the mantel and stair railing, threaded with red and silver beaded chains. The tree was massive, hung with rustic ornaments. Touches of red, green and gold shimmered everywhere she looked. Sunshine could picture the great room as a spread in a holiday decorating magazine.
“I have help most days.” Autumn looked over her shoulder. “If you could clear the table and load the dishwasher, that would be great.”
Sunshine matched her pace to Autumn’s, but she was only half-finished when Arianna chucked the box of crayons across the room.
“Uh oh!” the little girl crowed, and threw the coloring book after them.
“Uh oh, my foot.” But Autumn kissed her daughter’s head. “Now what do you want to do, honey?”
“Down! Down!”
With a sigh, Autumn complied and set Arianna on her feet. “Go pick up those crayons.”
“No!”
“That’s her favorite word,” she told Sunshine. “Watch your step.”
“I will.” Sunshine deposited her load of dishes in the dishwasher, then gathered the crayons.
“Thanks.” Autumn had finished making the salad and was cracking eggs into a bowl. “So Ethan says you used to run a vegan restaurant. Will you reopen it?”
“It was more like a café. In the front of the rifle range, if you can believe it.”
“Ethan’s told me all about it. He said you and Cole had a rocky beginning, but then you fell in love.” She whipped the eggs into a smooth froth.
“That’s pretty much how it went. Then, after we’d lived together for a few months, we discovered my aunt had left us another inheritance. We took the cash and traveled the world. I wanted to see how people in indigenous cultures cooked. I had this idea that getting back to basics would teach me about the essence of food, and maybe life, too.”
“Did it work?”
“For a little while.” Sunshine moved back to the table and picked up another stack of dishes. “Then I got scared.”
“What happened?” Autumn crossed to the stove and turned it on. “I’m assuming you don’t want part of this omelette. Is there anything else I can get you? I never get to eat at breakfast time when I’m feeding everyone else.” She put a pan on a burner and gave it a moment to heat before adding a pat of butter to it.
“I’m full, thanks. Breakfast was wonderful.” Autumn was a thoughtful cook and she’d served several vegan offerings. Sunshine had discovered she was starving and devoured them. She’d enjoyed chatting with the other guests, too. Autumn’s business was obviously doing well. Sunshine placed the dishes into the machine. “Anyway, I think it was the simplicity of it all. The people were living in primitive conditions that would render me suicidal if I knew I was stuck there, and not only were they surviving—they were laughing. And singing. And raising children. I don’t want to romanticize it, because poverty isn’t romantic at all. But…” She searched for words. “There’s a difference between what you want and what you need.” She rolled her eyes. “God, that’s a song, isn’t it? I guess everything was so raw it really became clear. Too clear.”
“What became clear?”
“How spoiled rotten I am. How trivial I am. I want beautiful things. I want a beautiful home. I want to be up to date on the latest fashions and hop from trend to trend. I want a shiny stainless-steel kitchen in a restaurant so avant-guard that just being in it shocks your senses. And here were all these people cooking over fires and focusing on the things that really matter.”
“Wow. That’s some pretty heavy stuff.” Autumn concentrated on her omelette, but Sunshine knew she was listening to every word. “Still, Cole says you spent over a year in those kind of places before heading for Europe.”