Beautifully Broken Pieces Page 2
The smells of bacon frying and freshly baking biscuits tickled my nose as I took in Carter at the stove. “Can I do anything?” I asked.
Carter bit the corner of her lip. “Ummm, why don’t you help Liam set the table.”
“Sure thing.”
I headed into the dining room to find Liam with a stack of dishes and cutlery. “Here, let me help,” I said, reaching for the pile of forks and knives.
“She wouldn’t let you touch anything that was cooking, would she?” Liam said with a chuckle.
“Oh, shut up. So, cooking isn’t my strong suit.” That was the world’s biggest understatement. My mom used to swear I could burn water. No matter how often she tried to school me in her culinary ways, I was a hopeless student. A pang hit my sternum. She would never have the chance to remedy that, to see me finally master her famous mashed potatoes or decadent lemon meringue pie.
These types of twinges came often, brought on by something different each time and taking me by surprise more often than not. It always felt like my heart was being squeezed by an unrelenting fist. The constriction would tug on all the surrounding strands of connective tissue, sending zaps of pain throughout my body until I finally pushed the memory from my mind.
Liam threw an arm around my shoulders. “Good thing you can order takeout with the best of them.”
I shook off the phantom spasm and forced a smirk to my lips. “Like you’re any better? You eat half your dinners at Carter and Austin’s, and you have a personal chef. Spoiled rotten, I swear.”
“What are you two bickering about now?” Austin’s voice called from the other room.
I turned to see his large fighter’s frame filling the doorway. “I’m just trying to keep Liam honest.”
Austin let out a snort. “Good luck with that. At least you’ve got his over-indulged rock star-self setting the table.”
“Hey!” Liam said, his face the picture of affront. “I’ll have you know, I washed dishes last night.”
Placing a hand over my heart, I gasped. “No. Dishes? Did you break a nail?”
Liam set his stack of plates down with a rattle and darted for me. “These hands could be insured for millions.” It was probably true. Over the past few years, Liam had become a Billboard Top 100 sensation. He’d created some sort of hybrid between Southern rock and country, dominating both markets, and raking in the cash.
I laughed, spinning in place and extending a butter knife in Liam’s direction to stop his attempted assault. “Okay, okay, you are the most famous, talented, handsome boy in all the land. Happy now?”
“That’s a little bit better...” He sniffed.
I rolled my eyes at Austin, who only grinned.
We finished setting the table, and then it was time to inhale whatever Carter had cooked up in the kitchen. All talking ceased, and the only sounds were those of forks and knives against plates.
I took a sip of my OJ, steeling my nerves. I cleared my throat, and three sets of eyes turned my way. “So…I think I’m going to stay in Sutter Lake.”
Carter’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean? Like, extend your trip?”
I twirled the ring on my right ring finger. It had been my mother’s. I liked to think that it had the magical ability to give me strength. “I mean, I’m going to move here.” Carter’s jaw slackened. “Not necessarily forever. Just for a while,” I hurried to say. “I need some time away.”
Tears filled Carter’s eyes, and Austin immediately reached out to grab her hand. “I was hoping you’d move back to LA. I know you needed time to handle all your mother’s affairs, but now that you’ve done that, you need to be around people who love you. You don’t know anyone here.”
She was right. I didn’t know a single soul in Sutter Lake. That was a large part of its appeal. I sent Carter what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “I think I need some time on my own, to get my head straight. Then, I promise I’ll think about moving back to LA.”
Liam studied me intently, his face solemn. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
I gritted my teeth but forced a lightness into my voice when I said, “I am. I just need to find a place to live. And maybe a job so I don’t die of boredom.”
Technically, I didn’t need a job. My father—or sperm donor, as I liked to call him—had set up a trust fund for me that had more money in it than I knew what to do with. His attempt to assuage his absentee-father guilt. He’d also given my mother a large sum. His attempt to quell his guilt over being a cheating, abandoning asshole. My mother had never touched the money, other than to pay for my schooling. I had no qualms about using mine to buy myself a little break from reality, but I knew I would go stir-crazy if I wasn’t doing something productive.
A fresh start where no one knew me as the girl who had just lost her only family. Solitude away from well-meaning, prying eyes. Peace. It was all I wanted. And if I had to move to the middle of nowhere Oregon to get it, then that’s just what I’d do.
3
Taylor
I studied the different storefronts as my friends and I walked down the sidewalk of my new home. Moving here was impulsive, I knew it, but excitement fluttered in my belly at the prospect. No memories that held me hostage lurking around every corner like they did in Houston or even LA. I could be free here. Able to explore and discover what the next phase of my life might look like. Free to feel whatever emotions came on, without the need to hold it all in so I didn’t worry my friends. Able to simply be.
An older gentleman passed by with a tip of his hat and the greeting of, “Ma’am.” I smiled in return.
An imposing form appeared next to me. “You know,” Austin began, “people in small towns are nosy. As soon as they figure out you’re not a tourist passing through, they are going to want to know all about you. Where you’re from. Who your family is. What your story is.”
I gritted my teeth. Apparently, Austin had been nominated by the group to try and convince me that this was a horrible idea and that I needed to go back to LA where they could watch over me and scrutinize my every move. “Maybe so, but when they realize I’m boring, they’ll move on fast enough.” They would. And I didn’t have to tell anyone shit. I was just a girl from Texas, ready for a change of scenery.
Austin attempted a different tack. “It’s not safe.”
I snorted at that. “What? You think that kind, old man was getting ready to mug me? Or maybe the woman who rented us the house and told us not to worry about locking our doors because no one in town does, was thinking of robbing us blind? Give me a break, A. This is probably the safest place on the planet.”
Austin’s jaw worked. “There can be bad seeds anywhere. And you’ll be here all alone, without knowing anyone. That’s a recipe for disaster.”
I gentled my tone. I knew Austin only meddled because he cared. “I appreciate the big-brother, protective streak, but I’ll be fine. I promise. I’ll get a job and meet some people that way. Then you won’t have to worry.”
“Where? At the local hardware store because you have such a way with power tools?” he asked, gesturing towards an adorable mom-and-pop shop that advertised: “We have a little bit of everything. Come on in and have yourself a look.” Austin pressed on. “Or, maybe you’ll get a job as a line cook because you haven’t almost burned down your own kitchen more than once.”
Spikes of frustration and annoyance pricked at my skin. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“That may be true, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t let your friends step in when you’ve had a tough go of it. Carter and I were talking…there’s plenty of extra room at our place, why don’t you move in with us for a while.”
My muscles tensed. It was an incredibly kind offer. And it came from the most generous and caring of places. But it sounded absolutely miserable. Me, Carter, Austin, and their nine-month-old son. Controlled chaos is what that would be. Bedlam that would result in me biting my best friend’s head off and making her cry.
Austin raised a hand to cut me off. “Just think about it.”
“I’m sorry, Austin. No.”
His jaw got even tighter. “This is going to be a disaster.”
I’d had enough of this anti-pep-talk. “Your opinion is duly noted,” I snapped and picked up my pace. I passed a café, a Western art gallery, and an old-fashioned movie theater. I’d be visiting the theater for sure.
“Taylor, wait.” My shoulders stiffened at the sound of my best friend’s voice. “I’m sorry. He means well, he just doesn’t always have the most gentle way of communicating.”
My shoulders slumped. “I know y’all think this is a terrible idea, but maybe you could just keep that opinion to yourselves. I like it here. I think it’s the right place for me to be.” Just because it was a spur-of-the-moment decision didn’t make it wrong.
“I’m sorry. We’re just worried about you and want you close.”
I was going to scream. Yell so loudly, shop owners would probably call the cops because they thought someone was getting murdered. How did telling someone that you were worried about them ever help the situation?
Carter must have seen the exasperation in my expression because she hurried on. “But I support you. Whatever you need. I’m team Taylor. Even if that means being a long-distance team member.”
I let out a long breath. I couldn’t stay mad at this girl. She was too sweet. I bumped her shoulder with mine. Well, I bumped her arm, since she had a good six inches on me. “Thank you.”
Carter rolled her shoulders back. “All right. What’s the first order of business in making Sutter Lake your home?”
I grinned at my bestie. “House and job.”
Her eyes widened, but they were focused on something behind me. “I think we’ve got one of those taken care of.”
I turned to see what she was looking at. The store at the end of the block that we had stopped in front of was in its own free-standing building. It was set back from the street just a bit, giving it enough space for a wraparound porch filled with a scattering of rocking chairs and assorted tables. Huge windows boasting flower boxes looked out onto Main Street, making it the perfect place to people watch. A sign hanging from the porch’s awning read The Tea Kettle.
Warmth filled my chest. A tea shop. My mom and I had shared tea from the time I was four years old, and my mom had to fill my cup with half tea and half honey. That familiar pang hit again, but this time, it was mixed with hope. Hope that this was a sign that Sutter Lake was where I was supposed to be.
I glanced at Carter. “Do you think they’re hiring?”
Her smile answered my own as she pointed to the window. A sign in what looked like calligraphy read: Help Wanted – Waitress/Cashier. “Want to go in?” I nodded as Carter motioned to the boys to let them know where we were headed.
Liam grimaced. “I think I’ll pass on the tea shop. Why don’t you meet us back at the brewpub when you’re done.”
I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped me. Men…no appreciation for the finer things in life. “All right, we’ll see you in a bit.”
Carter and I headed down the brick pathway and up the porch steps. As we opened the door, the familiar scent of tea leaves drifted over me, along with something that meant there were also baked goods on the premises. I hoped cooking wasn’t a job requirement.
“Welcome to The Tea Kettle. What can I get for you today?” a woman greeted from behind the counter. She was breathtakingly beautiful with a flawless olive complexion and dark brown hair. She looked vaguely familiar somehow, but I knew I’d never met her before.
I shook the random thought from my mind and walked the handful of steps to the counter. “Hi. I’m Taylor. I’m new to town and looking for a job. I saw the sign in your window, and thought I’d come pick up an application.”
The woman’s brows rose slightly. “Well, welcome to Sutter Lake. I’m Jensen, and this is my place. We’re not really the application type, but if you have a few minutes, we can chat and see if you’re a good fit.”
I liked the woman’s comfortable ease. It was as if she were completely secure in who she was. “That would be great.” I gestured behind me. “This is my friend, Carter.”
“Nice to meet you both. Why don’t I grab us some tea, and we can sip and chat.”
“That would be great.”
Within a few minutes, we were settled at a back table with delicious cold-brew teas and a plate of cookies. “These are delicious,” I said after swallowing a mouthful of cookie.
“Family recipe. I’d share it with you, but state secrets…” Jensen said with a wink.
I twisted the straw in my cup. “It wouldn’t do me any good even if you did share it.” Jensen’s forehead wrinkled. “I’m a horrible cook. I’m more likely to burn my kitchen down than successfully make cookies. So, I’m really hoping that’s not part of the job.” Carter attempted to cover her giggle with a cough.
Jensen did nothing to disguise her laugh. “It’s not. I’ve got a gal. Tessa,”—she gestured to someone I could just make out through the open kitchen door—“who’s a gem with all the baked goods and drinks. I’m just looking for someone to man the front of the shop a few days a week. I can only offer you part-time right now.”
“Part-time is perfect. Exactly what I’m looking for.”
Jensen eyed me carefully. “Do you have any waitressing experience? Know how to run a cash register and credit card machine?”
“I do. I waitressed for two years of high school and all through college. It’s been a minute since I’ve run a register, but I’m sure it’ll come back.”
“That’s great.” Her eyes seemed to search deeper, and I wondered what she was looking for. “So, what brought you to Oregon?”
I did my best to keep my face a neutral mask. “I was just ready for a change of scenery. I was sick of all the pollution and traffic in Houston.”
Jensen seemed to take that in, but I wasn’t quite sure she bought it. “Is that where you lived before?”
“Yup. Houston and Los Angeles.”
“This is a big change of pace. Small town. Not a lot going on.”
“That’s exactly what I’m looking for, a little peace and quiet.”
A grin pulled at Jensen’s mouth. “Well, you’ll definitely get that here. Where are you staying?”
I hoped Jensen’s expression meant that this weirdly informal interview was going well. “We’re at one of the rental houses out on Spruce Valley Road, but I’m looking for a place to rent longer-term.”
Jensen rubbed a thumb across her lower lip, seeming to consider something. “My parents have a place they might be willing to rent to you. We have a ranch about ten miles outside of town, and there’s a little guest cabin that barely gets used. It’s not close to the main house, so it’s pretty isolated. You’d obviously need a car.”
I straightened in my chair. Isolated was just what I was looking for. I could practically feel my body relax at the idea of some true alone time for the first time in forever. “That sounds perfect.”
Jensen’s grin widened. “I’ll give my mom a call right now and get you a new employee form to fill out.”
“I’m hired?”
“You’re hired.”
This time, I was the one grinning. “Thank you so much!”
“You’re welcome. I’ll be right back after I talk to my mom.”
As Jensen walked away from the table, I turned to face Carter. “That was amazing, right? Like this is all meant to be.”
Carter had a very forced smile on her face. “It’s great, Tay.”
“See, everything’s going to be just fine.” I just hoped I wouldn’t be made a liar.
4
Walker
The sun shone down on the rolling fields around me, a truly perfect spring morning. My boots kicked up just a bit of dust as I walked up to my parents’ ranch house. My stomach growled. While I had my own pla
ce on our ten-thousand-acre spread and could technically feed myself, I never passed up the chance to sit down at one of my mother’s epic breakfast spreads.
I pushed open the front door without knocking. The sounds of dishes clattering and voices chattering came from the kitchen, so I headed in that direction. My nephew, Noah, raced around the island with his toy airplane, making what sounded like a cross between a “vrooooooom” and a “whooooooosh.”
“Hi, Uncle Walker,” he called as he whizzed past me.
I bent, kissing my mom’s cheek as she stood at the stove. “Morning, Ma.”
“Good morning, my handsome baby,” she answered, just as she flipped a pancake on the griddle. The perfect shade of golden brown.
“You’re the reason the boy has such an ego, Sarah. It’s no wonder he hasn’t settled down,” my grandmother said with a good-natured harrumph.
My mother giggled. She was in her late sixties, and she still laughed like a schoolgirl. I think a large part of that was due to the fact that my father still made her feel as if she were in high school with her first real crush. “How’s my girl?” my dad asked, dipping to brush his lips against my mom’s.
“Get a room, you two,” my sister, Jensen, called from the dining table.
My mom shuffled the last of the pancakes onto a platter. “Everyone grab a seat.”
We all hurried to our chairs, my dad plucking the platter from my mom’s hands. He never let her do any heavy-lifting if he was around. “Thank you, Andrew,” my mom said as she kissed his cheek.
Conversation flowed, each of us discussing our plans for the day and the latest town news. As we finished up, my mom inclined her head towards me. “Walker, would you mind running something out to the Harris’s rental place on Spruce Valley?”
“Sure. What is it you’re wanting me to take?”
“Well, there’s a young woman staying there who’s going to be renting our little guest cabin for a year. So, I need you to run a lease over to her, along with a clicker for the garage.”