Taste of Tara Page 9

  Wade gave her a pointed look. “I trust you, Tara. Get that hand taken care of first, then, if you wouldn’t mind, please oversee the dinner tonight.”

  “I’ll take care of it, Wade,” Tara said, although she had no idea what she was going to do. Stuart had carefully created such a lovely menu. They’d all worked so hard the past few days to implement his plans. Now, the beautifully crafted food they’d prepared looked like a toxic dump site in the middle of the kitchen floor.

  With no time to worry about trivialities like the pastry chef taking over the kitchen, Tara sucked in a deep gulp then raised her voice enough to carry throughout the large room. “Someone please grab the first aid kit. If there is someone who isn’t afraid of a little blood, please come with me. The rest of you, start cleaning up this mess so we can get to work. We’ve got a lot of food to prepare and not much time to do it.”

  Everyone burst into action. Tara marched in the direction of the little alcove where Stuart had a desk, computer, and small table where he sat and wrote menus.

  Tara stopped at a wash station and scrubbed her hand, pleased to see the cut was just a surface wound. Although it bled profusely, she didn’t think it would hamper her ability to work.

  “Here, let me see.” A deep voice from her side sent a little thrill coursing through her. She looked up into Brett’s concerned face as he took her hand in his and gently probed the wound. “Looks like he sliced the skin, but it isn’t deep. It’ll bleed, but it should heal quickly if you keep it clean.”

  “What are you doing in here?” Tara asked. Unsettled by the tingles racing up her arm at Brett’s touch, the possessive way he looked at her made her languid. She read the emotions of fear, anger, and relief mingling across his handsome features.

  “I heard the sirens. I was down at the barn getting the horses ready to take some of the guests for a carriage ride. Joe told me what happened.” Brett led her over to the table and gently pushed her into a chair. He took the first aid kit from one of the men who worked in the dish pit and opened it. After applying ointment to Tara’s hand and bandaging it, he pulled a latex glove from a box on the table and slipped it over her hand. “You make sure you keep that covered all evening. I don’t want it getting infected.”

  He straightened and studied her, staring intently into her face. “Do you want to rest awhile? No one would blame you if you did. Joe and Boyd can handle things.”

  Tara shook her head. “I don’t think either of them is eager to be in charge and frankly, they don’t have the experience. Not that I do, either, but someone has to figure out what we are going to feed the guests besides roasted pork and dessert.”

  Brett chuckled and slipped his hands around Tara’s upper arms, drawing her to her feet. “Now, that would be one Southern dinner they’d never forget. I have complete faith in you to pull off a grand meal.” He kissed her cheek then stepped back. “If you need my help, call my cell. I’ll be here for the party anyway, so I can be in the kitchen in five minutes flat from anywhere in the house.”

  Tara wondered how fast he’d run if she sent him a plea for help, but she wouldn’t find out. She had to do this on her own.

  “Thank you for your care and encouragement, Brett. I’ve got a lot of work to do and not much time to accomplish it.” Tara patted his chest with her uninjured hand and stepped around him.

  The next two hours passed in a blur as she, Joe, and Boyd ravaged the pantry and coolers for every bit of usable food they could find. Wade sent in a few extra people to help cut up vegetables while Tara rallied the kitchen staff and they returned to meal preparations.

  “Add more bacon to the hominy, Joe. No one ever complained about having too much bacon.” Tara tipped her head toward a large pot the young man stirred.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, giving her a rascally smile then stepped back and yelled. “More bacon, boys. Miss Scarlett wants more bacon.”

  The entire kitchen staff had resorted to calling her Miss Scarlett when she morphed into a take-charge woman with an attitude that left no doubt she would pull off this meal.

  Although the dinner wasn’t exactly what Stuart had planned, they managed to serve plenty of delicious southern food.

  Tara gave most of the credit for their success to the hardworking staff and a small portion to her mother. For Tara’s sixteenth birthday, Melanie had presented her with a copy of a Gone With the Wind cookbook. After spending hours making each dish in her youth, Tara could cook any recipe in the book from memory. With no time to consider if it was a good decision, she whipped out a menu using several recipes from that little cookbook.

  Throughout the hectic evening, she worked at a feverish pace. A few times, she’d glanced up and found Brett standing in the doorway, watching her. Each time, she smiled and he either winked or nodded, and then returned to the party.

  Up to her neck in dinner preparations, she wouldn’t allow herself to think about how handsome he looked in his fawn-colored breeches and dark blue coat and top hat. His blond hair gleamed in the bright kitchen lights and his shoulders appeared broad enough to carry the weight of the world. If one of the dashing heroes in the romance novels Ellen loved to read came to life, Brett would have been the perfect choice to play the character.

  By the time the servers carried out dessert, Tara was ready to crawl into her bed and sleep for a week. Two hours later, after the last of the dishes were in the dish pit and the leftover food stored, she slumped down at a table and rested her head on her crossed arms.

  “Tara? Do you need anything?” Joe asked as he stood on the other side of the table, glancing at her in concern.

  “Thank you, Joe, but I’m fine. I just need a minute before I drag myself off to bed. Thank you for all you did today. I’ll make sure Stuart knows how helpful you and Boyd both were.”

  The young man smiled. “If you hadn’t stepped in, the dinner wouldn’t have happened. Make sure you tell Stuart that.”

  Tara smiled and wished him a good night. She removed her filthy chef’s coat and tossed it in the nearby hamper. She peeled off the glove covering her injured hand. Glad it had been her left hand, she’d still been able to work unimpeded by the wound since she did most everything with her right hand. Other than being unable to lift some heavy pots, she hadn’t given the wound much thought.

  Blood had soaked into the bandage and dried, so she decided she better change it before she went to bed. She started to unwind the gauze Brett had wrapped around it when a pair of big, tanned hands pushed away her fingers. She gazed up at Brett’s face, wondering why he’d come back to the kitchen.

  He smiled. “Hey, there, Tara. Or shall I say Miss Scarlett? I heard Joe and Boyd, and the others, teasing you earlier.”

  “They needed something to laugh about. It’s been a stressful day,” she said in a quiet tone, too tired to pull her hand away from his. Honestly, she liked the feel of his warm hand cradling hers while his strong fingers gently pulled away the bandage.

  After looking at the cut, he applied more ointment then wrapped her hand in a clean piece of gauze. “It looks good. You shouldn’t have any problem with it.”

  “I didn’t realize you had medical training,” she teased.

  “I’ve been around enough to pick up a few things,” he said, straightening and studying her. He looked anxious as he drew her up beside him, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her steady. “You’re dead on your feet, honey. What can I do to help?”

  “Nothing,” Tara muttered, burying her face against his solid chest. He smelled so good, like leather, sunshine, and rugged male. She knew she smelled like bacon grease, spices, and something deep-fried. It wasn’t an altogether pleasant scent, and certainly not one to make her feel the least bit feminine or pretty.

  At the moment, though, she was too weary to care. Instead, she relaxed against Brett and closed her eyes, wishing she could stay right where she was for the rest of her life.

  “Tara?” Brett asked, kissing the top of her head.

&
nbsp; “Mmm?” she tried to open her eyes, but found her lids refused to obey her commands.

  “You really are incredible,” Brett whispered, then swept her into his arms.

  Tara knew she should protest or at least suggest he set her down before he gave himself a hernia. Before she mustered the ability to pry one eye open, he carried her up the back stairs and looked at the nameplates by the doors until he found the one named Tara.

  “Do you have your room key?” he asked quietly.

  “Yep,” she said, feeling drunk for the first time in her life. She didn’t know if it was from the fatigue that had overtaken her body or the hot swirl of sensations caused by Brett carrying her up the stairs in his powerful arms. Whatever the reason, she’d lost the ability to think straight or speak with any degree of intelligence. “It’s in my pocket. Wanna get it?”

  Brett chuckled. “I think you better fish it out, Tara.”

  “Okey-dokey.” She unfastened a cargo pocket on the leg of her chef pants and pulled out a key, dangling it from her fingers. “I’ll undoor the lock.”

  “You do that.” Brett bent his knees until she could reach the lock on the door. She inserted the key and then turned the knob, opening the door. He stepped inside her room and started to set her down, but she wrapped both arms around his neck and gave him a tight hug.

  “You’re the nicest, nicest man I ever met, Brett.” She giggled. “I made a rhyme.”

  “Yes, you did,” he agreed, carrying her over to the bed and gently setting her down on top of the coverlet. He loosened her hold and clasped her hands between his. “You’ve had a very long, very trying day, Tara. Get some sleep, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow. Okay?”

  “Okay, Brett.” She closed her eyes and started to flop back on the pillows, then sat upright, grabbing Brett’s hand before he turned to leave. “You really are the best guy in the world. I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too, Tara.” He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead and squeezed her hand. “Now get some sleep. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow,” she repeated, rolling onto her side and falling asleep.

  Brett pulled a quilt from a rack in the corner and covered her with it. Bending down, he brushed the dark hair away from her face and kissed her temple. “Sleep well, Tara.”

  He backed out of the room, turning off the light and shutting the door behind him.

  Although Tara’s declaration of love was made when she was obviously incoherent, he couldn’t help but hope she really did love him. If so, perhaps he still had a chance of getting her to stay.

  Chapter Ten

  “Have you seen Tara?” Brett asked Ashley and Wade as they sat on the back porch, sipping coffee and eating leftover lemon tarts for breakfast. Most of the guests had already packed and left, driven to the airport by a service Ashley hired. A few stragglers would go that afternoon. When they left, the house would return to its quiet, restful state, at least until the next event in December.

  Ashley smiled and patted the seat next to hers. “I checked on her about an hour ago because it’s unlike her not to be up early. She was still sleeping.”

  He removed his hat and set down a small gift bag he carried in one hand before taking the seat she indicated. Ashley poured a cup of coffee and handed it to him then passed him a tray full of pastries and desserts. He selected a piece of peach pie, taking a bite.

  Wade wiped his mouth on his napkin and looked at Brett. “As always, we appreciate you supplying your beautiful horses and overseeing anything to do with them during the event, Brett. And the million other little things you do to help out. I heard you even bandaged Tara’s hand last night. Thank you for that.”

  Brett shrugged. “It’s my pleasure, although I am a little worried about Tara. I found her practically collapsed in the kitchen last night after everyone had gone.”

  “Oh, goodness!” Ashley said, her hand fluttering to her throat. “I knew I should have gone down to make sure everything was fine before we went to bed, Wade.”

  “We both should have. Tara did such an amazing job yesterday, far above and beyond what she signed on to do here.” Wade scowled. “If I’d known Jonas would have a mental breakdown on the day of our ball, I most certainly would not have agreed to have him work here. Stuart wanted to make sure he could handle all types of events before he turned him loose to oversee one on his own.”

  “I guess we all got the answer to that question.” Brett set down the fork in his hand and looked to Ashley. “Have you heard from Stuart? How is his wife doing?”

  “She had a very long, difficult labor, but they welcomed a beautiful baby girl into the world late last night. They named her Catherine.” Ashley smiled and nodded to Wade. “When we spoke with Stuart, we filled him in on what transpired yesterday in the kitchen. He didn’t seem as shocked as he might have about Jonas, but he was extraordinarily pleased to know Tara stepped up and took charge.”

  “I don’t know how she did it, but that was one of the finest meals we’ve ever served at the ball. The guests just raved about it.” Wade took a sip of his coffee then tossed Brett a thoughtful look. “Any chance you can convince her to stay in the area? We’d love to hire her for all of our events.”

  Ashley hastened to agree. “She truly is wonderful, Brett. All the staff seems to like and respect her, she cooks like a dream, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think she was a real southern girl at heart. She truly did make a fabulous Scarlett. With that black hair and those snapping green eyes, she had all of us convinced Scarlett really had come to visit the afternoon she entertained our guests.”

  Brett smirked. “I think she is a southern girl at heart, even if she was born in Oregon. As for getting her to stay here, I’m not sure she’s interested in being convinced. I’ve tried, but she’s assured me she has to return to Portland and her life there. I’ll give it another shot, but I’m not making any promises.”

  Wade chuckled. “I think the promises you need to make are to her, not us, but we wish you luck in your endeavors.”

  They spoke for a few minutes more while Brett ate pie and drank coffee then he stood and settled his hat back on his head. “I’m going to take a load of horses home then come back for the rest. If you see Tara, will you let her know I’m looking for her and give her this?” He handed Ashley the gift bag.

  “We certainly will, Brett. As soon as she is up, I’ll be sure to have her give you a call.” Ashley gave him a knowing smile. “Between your good looks and charm, you can figure out a way to win her heart.”

  “I do believe you’ve turned into a hopeless romantic, Ashley.” Brett waved then jogged off in the direction of the stables where he’d left his pickup and horse trailer. He’d already hauled two loads of horses home and had checked at the house with each trip to see if Tara was up and about.

  Two hours later, he took the last load home and sent Tara a text message. Ashley said she was still sleeping and had no plans to wake her because the woman had been clearly exhausted.

  Brett wouldn’t argue about Tara needing to rest, but the longer he had to wait to see her the antsier he became.

  Randa Cutler stepped next to him as he stood with one foot propped on a fence rail, watching the horses he’d just turned into the pasture. “Come inside and have some lunch, baby. You can fret and fuss after you have a good meal.”

  He scowled at his mother. “How do you know I’m fretting or fussing?”

  She laughed and looped her arm around his, pulling him along with her. “Because your jaw is set like it always is when something is bothering you and you’ve got that brooding look on your face that is going to give you wrinkles across that handsome forehead if you aren’t careful.”

  “I don’t care about wrinkles, Mom, but I…” A long, frustrated sigh rolled out of him.

  “Yes? You what, Brett?” Randa stopped on the back step and stared up at him.

  “I just don’t want Tara to leave and I don’t think she wants to stay.”
<
br />   Randa smiled and patted his cheek. “Then give her a very compelling reason to change her mind.”

  After lunch with his parents, Brett tried to keep his thoughts and hands busy by doing some work in the old barn. By two o’clock, he still hadn’t heard from Tara. He sent her another text message and received no reply, so he drove over to Magnolia Rose, intent on seeing her. He didn’t care if she was still sleeping, he just had to make sure for himself that she was okay.

  As he turned down the lane, the town car Ashley and Wade provided to transport guests barely slowed to make the turn onto the road and zoomed off in the direction of the city. Brett assumed one of the guests was probably late to catch a flight. He didn’t give it another thought as he drove to the house and parked.

  He hadn’t even stepped out of the pickup when Ashley ran down the steps toward him at the same moment his phone chimed with a text.

  “Brett! I just sent you a message, but Tara woke up and realized she was about to miss her flight.” Ashley appeared quite distraught. “She hardly gave us a chance to say goodbye before she raced out of here. I did give her your gift bag and she said she’d call you from the airport. If you hurry, you can catch her. Oh, if you do talk to her, tell her Stuart wants to speak with her. I think she’ll want to hear what he was to say.”

  Brett climbed back into his truck and sped to the road. Like Tara’s driver, he barely slowed as he made the turn and headed in the direction of Atlanta. He floored the accelerator but was already in heavy traffic before he caught sight of the town car weaving in and out of cars, making its way to the airport.

  He followed it as it took the airport exit. When it stopped to let Tara out at the curb with her luggage, Brett pulled up behind it and jumped out, racing over to the woman he loved.