Moonlight Masquerade

  “Did this preacher, Russell, bail you out?”

  “More or less,” Kelli said.

  He moved along the aisle. “So why did you steal the pans?”

  “You’re a pest, you know that?”

  “Sophie thinks so and my father would agree wholeheartedly, but my mother rather liked me. So why’d you steal the pans?”

  “Because my boyfriend ran over mine with his motorcycle and I had to bake six tarts to try to get a job as a pastry chef at a major hotel.”

  Carter waited for her to continue.

  “I’d been working for a jerk of a chef who took credit for everything I did and I wanted to get away from him. Two days before I was to show up with examples of what I can do, my boyfriend and I had a fight. The next day while I was at work he cleaned out my bank account and ran his bike over every piece of cooking equipment I owned.”

  “So you ‘borrowed’ some more.”

  “That’s right. That’s what I did.”

  “But you got caught?”

  “He was stalking me,” she said.

  “The boyfriend or the mean chef boss?”

  “Boyfriend. He followed me, saw what I was doing, and called the cops. The mean chef pressed charges. The judge thought it was all ridiculous, so he sent me to help at a homeless shelter.”

  “And that’s where the Edilean pastor met you.”

  “Yes, he did, and he called me for this job, even bought my bus ticket.”

  “You’re a pastry chef but you came all the way from Chicago to take a job in a sandwich shop?”

  When Kelli didn’t answer, he stopped and stared at her. “If you want me to help you, you need to tell me the whole story.”

  “What else is there to tell?” They were in the spice aisle and she was buying the biggest, cheapest containers she could find.

  Carter didn’t reply but picked up a ten-pound bag of King Arthur flour. “When I started working for Treeborne Foods three years ago I suggested that we branch out into baked goods. Give Sara Lee a run for her money. In front of everyone my father told me to sit down and shut up.”

  Kelli seemed to be deciding whether to tell the real reason why she’d come to Edilean. “Russell said that the sandwich shop used to sell pastries and that there’s an empty building next door.”

  Carter instantly saw what she was getting at. “You want to tear through the wall to make a work area.”

  Kelli nodded.

  Carter’s eyes lit up. “I can get all the baking equipment you need, including hundreds of tart pans, from a rock bottom wholesaler.”

  “Just mention the Treeborne name?”

  Carter grinned. “Just mention the Treeborne name.”

  Understanding passed between them. Maybe, just possibly, Carter was seeing a way around his father’s rule. If he could come up with a line of pastries, things that could be frozen . . . He’d do something labeled as healthy, as that’s what sold. Healthy, high fiber, low carb. All the catch words of the industry.

  He held the bag of flour aloft. “How many do you want to start out with?”

  “Five ten-pounds bags should hold me over for a day or two.”

  When Sophie got back to the restaurant, she was shocked to see Carter and a girl she’d never met up to their elbows in flour. There was a wooden box of apples on the floor, and every burner on the stove was covered with big pots. The shop smelled wonderful.

  She and Henry had walked to the church and she’d heard his ideas of building a studio on his property.

  “My wife and I own five acres outside Williams-burg. Right now I’m working in a three-car garage, but Sophie, I could build us a studio. It would be two stories high, open to the roof, with windows on the north. It could have triple doors so any big bronzes you—or maybe we—made could be moved in and out.”

  What he was saying was like a dream come true. All through school it was what she’d imagined having someday. She and Kim and Jecca had spent long evenings talking of their possible futures.

  For Kim, everything she’d wanted had come true. She had her own shop and it was possible that she was going to go national. Jecca hadn’t become a painter as she’d wanted to be, but she did have an art career before her.

  As for Sophie, she felt that even though she was twenty-six years old she was just starting life. Her own life, that is.

  “Are you Sophie?” the young woman behind the counter asked as she wiped her hands. “I’m Kelli Parker.”

  The name meant nothing to Sophie.

  “Didn’t Russell tell you about me?”

  “Yes, he did.” She was looking at the kitchen. If she’d been in the restaurant longer, if she’d begun to feel that the place was hers, she would have been resentful of this stranger taking over. But this morning the deluge of customers had shown her how her lack of experience had come close to being a disaster.

  She saw that this pretty young woman was looking at her anxiously, waiting to see what Sophie was going to say. “What are you doing?”

  “She’s a pastry chef,” Carter said over the tall glass counter. “She’s going to fill this cabinet with . . . I don’t know . . . pastries, I guess.”

  “Could you just get back to work and let me tell her?” Kelli said, then looked back at Sophie. “Oh, sorry, you’re the boss so you should tell him what to do.”

  Sophie didn’t smile. “If I told Carter what to do it would involve boiling oil and foul language.”

  Carter’s groan echoed around the room, but he didn’t stop working.

  Sophie looked back at Kelli. “I think pastries would be a great idea. What can I do to help?”

  Twenty

  It was almost Christmas, Reede thought, and he had no idea what he was going to get Sophie. If he had his way it would be an engagement ring, but he didn’t dare do that. He didn’t think he could live with her telling him no.

  In the months since she’d arrived it seemed that his life fluctuated between perfect and horrible. He was glad that she was settling into the community of Edi-lean, but at the same time he knew he wanted to leave the little town—and he wanted Sophie to go with him.

  He’d loved seeing her excitement of the last few weeks. It was as though everything she’d ever wanted was at last coming to her.

  Reede hadn’t been too happy about Carter coming to town, although he admitted that he shouldn’t have hit the man. Afterward, the manager of Kim’s jewelry store, Carla, had called Reede at his office, saying that it was very important that she speak to him immediately.

  “I just heard what you did,” Carla said. “You know, when you hit that guy.”

  “Yes, I do know,” Reede said with a sigh. “I shouldn’t have—”

  “But you should have,” Carla said. “The whole town knows you and Sophie are meant for each other. On Halloween half the town was peeping through the curtains to watch you two riding through the night. It was the most romantic thing this town has ever seen. At least it was the best thing to happen since Dr. Tris went after Jecca, and of course there was the way Luke nearly killed Rams over—”

  “Carla!” Reede said. “Is there a point to this call? I have patients.”

  “Oh yeah, sure. I thought you might like to know that I sold that big pink diamond ring Kim made. It was by far the most expensive piece in the store.”

  Reede knew there’d been some trouble between his sister and Carla, something to do with the sale of a sapphire ring, but he thought it had been settled. “Do you want me to take charge of the money?” Reede asked with as much concern in his voice as he could manage. “The new me” he thought of himself since Sophie had arrived. Patient, understanding, sweet tempered.

  “Are you saying I can’t be trusted with money?” Carla asked loudly. “Because if you are, then—”

  “Cut it out!” Reede snapped. “Just say what you’re avoiding telling me.”

  “The man you hit bought the ring. He said it was for his engagement.”

  “Treeborne?”


  “Is that his name?” Carla asked. “He isn’t part of those frozen foods, is he?”

  “I’m sure you know more about him than I do,” Reede said. “Carla, unless you have anything else to tell me, I have to go.”

  “Don’t let him take her away from you,” Carla said, her voice frantic. “Just because he’s rich and gorgeous shouldn’t scare you away. Sophie is Kim’s friend and you two are beautiful together. Forget that you nearly ran her over with your fancy car, and don’t think about how she poured beer all over you, and definitely don’t think about how you and everyone else in this town lied to her about who you are. I still think you two should be together. Don’t let a flawless pink diamond scare you away. Sophie can—”

  “Good-bye, Carla,” Reede said and hung up.

  For all that he’d told himself that Sophie would never go back to Texas with a guy like Carter Tree-borne, Reede had difficulty concentrating that day.

  As soon as he saw his nurse, Heather, he knew that Carla had told her about the ring. Heather’s eyes were so full of rah-rah encouragement that he half expected her to tell him to keep his chin up. “You can do it” might have come out of her mouth if his glare hadn’t prevented her from speaking.

  But for the whole afternoon Heather had hovered over Reede, watching him with every patient. Twice she suggested tests that Reede forgot to order for people.

  Old Mr. Felderman put his hand on Reede’s shoulder and squeezed. “I proposed to my wife eight times before she said yes. Hang in there.”

  Reede had to clamp his teeth together to keep from making a sarcastic remark.

  When he stepped out of an exam room at four, the three women who worked for him put on a show for his benefit. They pretended they were just casually chatting but they were so loud he could have heard them in Virginia Beach. Underwater.

  “And Sophie has been sitting on a bench with this man for hours?” Heather half shouted.

  “For a long time, anyway,” Betsy answered at the same ear-blasting level.

  “And he’s old enough to be her father?” Alice shouted.

  Reede had been about to step forward and tell them to be quiet. The last thing he wanted to hear was how Sophie had spent hours with Carter. But who was the man “old enough to be her father”?

  Reede opened a file folder and pretended to be reading it.

  “So who is he?” Heather asked, her voice lowered somewhat, since there didn’t seem to be any danger of Reede not hearing.

  “The old man or the young one who bought Sophie an engagement ring?”

  Reede’s hands tightened on the folder. Right now he certainly wasn’t regretting hitting the guy.

  “Both!” Alice said, pretending she didn’t know that Dr. Reede was standing just a few feet away.

  “The new preacher has something to do with the older man,” Betsy said. “And the younger one must be an old boyfriend.”

  The women were silent for a moment, not sure what else to say to warn him about what was going on. Dr. Reede had been much nicer since Sophie had come to town, and the women had done everything they could think of to keep the two of them together.

  Just then the four-thirty appointment came in and she looked from the women to Dr. Reede standing in front of a door, his head bent over a folder. “Are you talking about the new sandwich shop?” she asked as she signed in.

  The women nodded.

  “I was at the grocery and that blond guy who helped Sophie out this morning was there with some dark-haired girl—never saw her before—and they filled four carts full of food. Not that I was looking, but it was a lot of flour and butter and cream. Then later I took my daughter to her dance class and I saw the two of them in the restaurant and it looked like they were making pies.”

  “Where was Sophie?” Betsy asked.

  “I saw her coming down the street. She doesn’t know me but I said hi anyway. She went inside and later when I picked up my daughter she had on an apron and was sitting at a table peeling apples. Not that I was spying or anything.”

  “No, of course not,” Alice said.

  “Where was the blond guy?”

  “Behind the counter and standing very close to the dark-haired girl.”

  “He wasn’t near Sophie?” Heather asked.

  “No. In fact it was like she was staying away from both of them. Do you think they’re going to start selling baked goods? I wish I could buy the cupcakes for my daughter’s school party here in town.”

  None of the women answered because they’d all turned to stare at Reede.

  He knew he shouldn’t let his pleasure, relief, and all-round happiness at hearing this show, but he did allow himself a small smile.

  In return the women grinned at him.

  Reede turned away but he was feeling much better. When a young mother brought in her toddler who had nothing at all wrong with him, Reede spent thirty minutes listening to her fears. His prescription had been to tell her about a playgroup his female relatives had formed. “Motherhood shouldn’t be a lonely business,” he’d told her.

  The patient must have said something because later, Heather smiled at him so warmly it was embarrassing.

  In the ensuing days it hadn’t been easy for Reede to deal with Carter. There was something primitive inside him that made him want to challenge the guy to a fight to the death.

  Mike Newland, Sara’s husband, had understood so well that he’d taken Reede on in the boxing ring. Mike’s new gym was being built out of town, but it wasn’t complete yet so he was still using the old clothing store. Sara’s former fiancé had once rented that place.

  “Think it’s a coincidence that I took this place over?” Mike asked in his raspy voice. He was letting Reede know that he understood about wanting to protect the woman in your life.

  But modern American society wouldn’t let Reede do what he wanted to. He couldn’t demand that Sophie throw Carter out, to never see him again.

  Besides, Carter and the girl Kelli had freed Sophie up enough that she could spend more time with Reede. When he’d told her he didn’t play fair he’d meant that he’d take up her time. But he didn’t have to “take” anything, for she seemed to want to be with him as much as he with her.

  They talked; they made love; they went places together. It hadn’t taken long to find out that they preferred each other’s company to anything else they did.

  By Thanksgiving they had a routine that Reede picked Sophie up by six and they made dinner together. She was very interested in the countries he’d visited and she liked to try to re-create the food. They scoured the Internet for recipes and ordered little out-of-print, local cookbooks on the regions Reede knew best. Several times Sophie served foreign soups in her shop. The yam and raisin had been a big hit, the lamb and garlic less so.

  “Well, I liked it,” Sophie said and he agreed with her.

  After they’d had dinner with Colin and his wife, Gemma—their infant son was being babysat by his brother, Shamus—Reede and Sophie took their advice about buying furniture. The next Saturday they went to a big warehouse and spent a day choosing everything from cookware to a sofa.

  But no matter how involved they became, Sophie didn’t move in with him. Every night she stayed in her apartment. He knew he’d made it clear that he wanted her to live with him, but she said she needed time to think about her life and what she wanted to do with it.

  They spent a lot of time talking, telling each other things they’d told no one else. It took some work on Reede’s part, but he got her to talk about her stepfather.

  “Sometimes I think he leered at Lisa just to make me stay there and take care of everything. I cooked, cleaned, and kept a job. And I think Lisa was grateful for someone to use as the bad guy. While I was in college she got mixed up with the wrong crowd and didn’t know how to get free. When I got there she told them I wouldn’t let her go out with them. One of the kids very angrily told me that I’d threatened to send Lisa to juvenile detention if she didn’t stop seeing t
hem.”

  “Did you?”

  Sophie smiled. “I said that’s where she was heading if she didn’t get away from that gang. The town gives me credit for straightening her out, but I had three jobs. I didn’t have time to do much in the way of discipline.”

  “Maybe your sister saw what you sacrificed for her.”

  Sophie was thoughtful for a moment. “You know something? I don’t feel that I did sacrifice, not as though I gave up everything anyway. I was never like Jecca and Kim, where my career was everything to me. I tried to be, but it wasn’t all that difficult for me to give up that first job offer and go home to my sister. I think that if Jecca couldn’t spend her life doing some form of art she would have jumped off a building.”

  “And I can assure that my sister is the same way,” Reede said. “As much as she loved Travis I think if he’d said that it was him or jewelry she would have chosen the diamonds.” Reede looked at her. “But you know, Sophie, you might feel differently once you get back into your sculpture. This man Belleck might open some doors for you.”

  “Ah yes, Henry,” she said.

  Two afternoons a week she worked with Henry in his garage. The man was a scholar of the American Revolution and he wanted to do figures of the most important people.

  Sophie made sure his armatures were correctly proportioned, then forced him to really look at the portraits of the men and women. She taught him to see tiny differences in facial features. He would form George Washington’s face in clay, then Sophie would show him why it didn’t look like the man. With a few pushes with her thumbs, a scrape of a knife, a bit of clay added, in seconds she changed it to look like the former president.

  Henry marveled at her talent. “I don’t understand why you didn’t pursue this.”

  “There are things more important,” she told him, and Henry had looked at her oddly.

  Later she’d told Reede about it. They were snuggled on his new couch together, a big bowl of popcorn between them, and watching a DVD.

  “What’s more important?” he’d asked while pretending that her answer wasn’t of utmost concern to him.

  But he didn’t fool her. “I haven’t figured it out yet,” she said and looked back at the movie.