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  “And getting married,” Suzanne added.

  Sadie turned to her. “Well, yes, and getting married.” She felt that now-familiar flutter when she thought of herself as married.

  “Shouldn’t we mention it to Tripp?”

  Sadie considered for a moment before answering.

  “I don’t think so. Not yet. Everything went well tonight and I don’t want him to get even more nervous. What do you think?”

  “Hmm,” Suzanne said as she stared at the door to the kitchen. “Look at it this way. Would it help him to know? If he did know, what could he do? Maybe we should just wait a week or so and see what happens?”

  “I don’t have any other brilliant ideas at the moment. Let’s just keep it under our hats for now, shall we? We’ll probably know more after we’ve been in business for a little while.”

  “I don’t have a better idea, either,” Suzanne said as she bent over, pulling at the toes of her boots. “My feet are killing me and I’m exhausted. I vote for not borrowing trouble and waiting.”

  Sadie lingered for a moment as Suzanne headed into the kitchen to help with the dishes. The restaurant really was beautiful, and it had glowed with the copper ceiling and the candles lit, just as she’d envisioned. She couldn’t imagine what they would do if the restaurant wasn’t a success. She knew Tripp would be heartbroken—and she knew she would be, too.

  She blew out the last of the candles, watching the moon glow outside the windows as the room grew darker, bit by bit. She gathered the napkins in the linen sack, picking up the remaining lantern and, taking one last look behind her as she headed into the kitchen, said a silent prayer that everything would turn out all right.

  Chapter 18

  Tripp had been in his own world since the restaurant opening the night before. They’d talked on the way home, Sadie smiling and nodding as he explained in detail every dish he’d made, what had worked out well and what he’d had to fiddle with. By the time they walked in the front door, she was just about done in for the night.

  “I feel as if I say this a lot, but I wanted to thank you again, Sadie. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

  Tripp closed the door behind him and took Sadie’s coat off for her.

  Sadie sighed, exhausted from her long day and the excitement of opening night. “This is what I agreed to, Tripp. No need to thank me…but it’s nice of you to do it.”

  “Would you like something to drink? To eat?” he said, pausing as they walked toward the stairs…to their separate bedrooms.

  “No, Tripp, I just want to go to sleep. I’m planning to go in early again tomorrow.”

  Tripp stopped and rested his hand on the newel post at the bottom of the stairs and taking her hand in his.

  “Sadie, I appreciate you going in early to make biscuits and bread, but is it really necessary? You must be exhausted.”

  “Yes, I think it is. I’m fine. I just need some sleep. And the bread helps give them something to eat in case they need to wait a bit. It’s just a good idea,” she said, as she started up the stairs. “This will be a big week, and we’ll know what works and what doesn’t. For now, I think I need to keep making the biscuits and bread.”

  Tripp rubbed the back of his neck as he looked at the floor. “I sure do appreciate it, Sadie. When I asked you to come out, I had no idea that I was getting such a hard worker.” He smiled at her as she turned to head up to bed.

  She was glad he couldn’t see the consternation on her face. “Yes. That is one thing I am. A hard worker,” she said as she opened the door to her room.

  It’s just that it’s not all I want to be, Tripp Morgan, she thought as she stepped inside.

  “Good night, Sadie,” he said as he smiled and walked past her to his room. She stood for a moment, until he closed his bedroom door behind him.

  Her bones felt heavy as she took off her lucky apron and splashed water on her face from the basin on her vanity. She looked up to the mirror in front of her and her head cocked to the side as she studied herself closely. She stood, shaking her head, and went to get her night dress.

  As she laid her work dress over the chair in her room, she wandered back to the mirror, blinking hard as she remembered what Suzanne had said about her hair. Tripp had mentioned it, too.

  Slowly, she reached up and took the pins out of her chignon, watching as her hair cascade past her shoulders. She shook her head, feeling the freedom her unfurled locks brought. Opening her eyes, she looked in the mirror once again, a wry smile spreading across her face.

  This isn’t appropriate in the restaurant. And I have a job to do, she thought as she brushed her hair and readied herself for sleep.

  Shaking the thoughts from her head, she remembered what Tripp had said, that she was a ‘hard worker’ and that this was a ‘business arrangement’ as she hastily braided her long, blonde hair and pulled back her blanket, preparing to get some rest before her long day again tomorrow.

  She rubbed the bridge of her nose as she willed the worry and frustration to leave her…leave her alone for a peaceful night’s sleep. She needed to be ready for whatever was in store for them.

  As Sadie arrived at the restaurant the next morning, just as the sun peeked over the mountains to the east, she was startled to see Mr. Lewis sitting on the steps waiting for her. As he saw her approach, he stood and took off his hat, holding out a small, velvet bag toward her.

  “Good morning, Mr. Lewis. I trust that you enjoyed the meat pies,” she said, surprised at his broad smile.

  “Oh, ma’am, they were very popular. Here, take this,” he said, the velvet bag jingling as he shook it.

  She laughed, wondering what he could possibly be talking about. She reached for the bag and her arm dropped as she took it, its heaviness a surprise.

  “Mr. Lewis, what is this?” she said, looking up at his grinning face.

  “I told you the men wanted to pay. They insisted. A dime a meat pie, Mrs. Morgan. Couldn’t say no, and here it is,” he said, his grin even broader as he held his hat over his heart. “They sure are popular, and so easy to take for lunch when we’re workin’ in the mine. Easy is good.”

  She stood, her mouth open, staring at the velvet bag. “You know, Mr. Lewis, it was not my intention to be paid for the privilege of making people happy with my cooking.”

  She shook her head as he walked down the steps and stopped in front of her.

  “I know, Mrs. Morgan. That’s what made them taste all the better. If I might suggest, could I pick up some more a little later? As many as you’d like to make. I’d have no problem selling ‘em.”

  “Er…okay…give me a couple of hours. I’ll have some ready for you,” she said as he nodded, smiled and walked away.

  “Thank you, ma’am. You’re making a lot of men very happy. No wives here, you know. Not much to eat,” he said over his shoulder as he walked away.

  She stood for a moment, the heavy weight of the velvet bag in her hand as she watched him head toward the mine.

  Can this be? she thought as she turned the key on the lock of the restaurant, stepping inside and setting the bag on a stool.

  She wondered if this was a sideways turn or something she needed to do. As she’d told Suzanne earlier, she made a decision again that this was a good idea, and that no matter what happened to the restaurant, feeding hungry folks and sharing what they had, since they could spare it, was the right thing to do.

  Chapter 19

  “Oh, waitress,” a customer seated in a corner called out to Sadie as she passed by on the one-week anniversary of the restaurant’s opening.

  After she and Suzanne had giggled in the beginning at being mistaken for one another, they’d decided to wear markedly different dresses because it was harder for them than the customers. They’d laughed, but never knew what the customer was asking for if it hadn’t been the table they’d taken the orders at.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Sadie said to the woman seated with a man who she took to be her husband.

>   They were dressed quite finely, the lady actually wearing a fur and hat. Sadie would have been surprised if Suzanne hadn’t told them that their town was very close to Tombstone, which had recently struck the biggest silver vein in Arizona Territory and people of all kinds—merchants, bankers, entertainers, doctors—were streaming in along with the money.

  “My dear, I saw on the menu that this was supposed to be Chicken Fricassee. In my experience in France, it tasted quite different,” she said, her nose crinkling as she sniffed at her fork.

  “Our chef was trained in New York, madam, so that may speak to the difference in creativity,” Sadie said, trying desperately not to wring her hands. This was the third person this evening to have questions about Tripp’s special of the day.

  “Well, it certainly isn’t that it’s not good. It’s just—different,” she said, actually taking a bite.

  “I think it’s delicious, Marjorie. Just eat your dinner,” her husband said as he sopped up the last of the gravy Tripp had slaved over with one of her biscuits. “And please give my compliments to the chef on his biscuits. They are lighter than air and absolutely delicious,” he said as he popped the last bite into his mouth.

  “Oh, I definitely agree there. The biscuits are delightful. As was the bread served beforehand,” the lady said, and Sadie followed her eyes as they darted to her bag—and covered her smile with her hand as she saw a napkin full of bread sitting on top.

  “I’m so glad you like them,” she said as she turned back toward the kitchen. “I will let the chef know.”

  “What is that you’re taking to that table?” the customer said, her eyebrows raised as she tried to see the plate Sadie was carrying over to Beau and Hank.

  “Oh, this? This is one of the chef’s special dishes from long ago. It’s beef stew and he makes it special for his friends over there,” she said, nodding her head in the direction of Hank and Beau’s table.

  They’d been coming in several nights a week for the past six weeks and Tripp always accommodated their requests for his trail cooking. Tonight it was beef stew.

  Her husband sat up a little in his seat and said, “My, that does smell good. I think I’ll have that next time I come.”

  He smoothed his napkin back over his lap and reached for another biscuit.

  “Oh, this isn’t on the menu. It’s just something he does for…”

  He sat back in his seat and folded his arms over his chest.

  “Well, that’s a shame. I believe we might come more often if that kind of thing was on the menu. The regular items are delicious, but not something that we would seek out every day. Beef stew, on the other hand, I love and could eat until the cows come home.”

  “Oh, yes,” said his wife. “If I knew how to make it, I would, and I’ve never smelled one quite like that before. Truly, a shame.”

  She turned back to her dinner and grabbed another biscuit as well.

  The rest of the night went by as most did. All the tables were full and Tripp was busy in the kitchen, and it seemed like the restaurant was packed. People tended to linger—in addition to the extra length of time it took Tripp to make their complicated dinners, no matter how fast he went—and Sadie, who had been in charge of the cash bag every night, was worried. They’d been able to pay the first month’s installment of the loan, but now, as the second one drew near, she wasn’t sure they were going to make it.

  As she set another plate by the sink in the kitchen, her shoulders sagged and she rubbed the back of her neck. She watched Tripp happily stirring his sauces and grabbing new sauté pans with every order.

  A little knot of anxiety niggled at her as she remembered what the customers had said, and the other conversations she’d heard that were similar in the weeks they’d been open.

  Suzanne walked in the kitchen, and nudged her head toward the door back into the dining room.

  “Sadie,” she whispered just inside the dining room but back away from the customers so they were out of earshot. “We need to talk about this.”

  Sadie shook her head, looking out over the sparsely filled dining room as the last customers got ready to leave.

  “I know. I get the same thing. How many times a night do you get requests for things Tripp makes for Beau? When they come out of the kitchen, it’s as if it’s a magnet for their noses.”

  Suzanne laughed, her eyes dancing. “It really is amazing. He really was a legend as a trail cook, and word seems to have spread like wildfire. People are asking for those dishes who’ve never been here before. And besides, it takes Tripp so long to make the other dishes that we really only have one group of people. It’s not as if they can eat quickly and leave.”

  “I’m not sure what to do, Suzanne. It would break his heart if he knew it wasn’t going over so well. He’s put his heart and soul into this.”

  “Sadie, the bigger problem is that I don’t imagine you’re making much money at this point. Have you checked? I think the loan payment is due in a few days, isn’t it? Do you have it?”

  Sadie clasped her hand to her mouth. “I…I haven’t even looked, really. We had enough supplies for quite a while and so I’ve counted it but we haven’t balanced the books.”

  “You’d better do that and see if you can cover the loan payment.”

  Tripped poked his head out of the kitchen door, his eyebrows furrowed. “Ladies? Everything all right?”

  “Oh, yes,” Sadie said as she exchanged a quick glance with Suzanne. “Fine. Everything’s fine. We’ll be right there.”

  She felt Suzanne’s elbow in her ribs as soon as Tripp was out of sight.

  “Ouch. What was that for?” Sadie asked as she rubbed her side.

  “You know that’s not true. And you’d better count that money and talk to him,” she said as she turned to clear the dishes from customers who were finishing. “And soon,” she said over her shoulder as she turned toward the kitchen.

  Chapter 20

  “Oomph,” Sadie said as she collapsed into a chair in the dining room after the restaurant had closed and the dishes were washed, dried and put away. This was how it had been every night since the restaurant had opened and she’d collapsed into bed at the end of each day.

  Tripp looked up from the ledger he was scribbling in and smiled. “You look exhausted,” he said, reaching for her hand.

  “So do you.”

  As tired as she was, she still enjoyed seeing Tripp’s face light up as he got to make the dishes he’d put on the menu. She was glad that after this loan payment, they’d be able to hire some help, as Suzanne had to get back to the twins and Sadie could use some rest herself.

  The one thing she was worried about was Tripp, but he’d agreed that when they had some help and things were settled down, they could close two nights a week and try to recover. But for now, they were still getting started and things were critical.

  She’d asked him earlier in the evening if they could go over the finances, as Suzanne had insisted. The bank manager would be coming in a few days, and she’d decided that it was better to know than not know—especially if they were in a pickle—and Tripp had agreed.

  She poured another cup of coffee and watched him, his hair falling over his forehead as he studied the books, so concentrated that he seemed to have forgotten she was sitting next to him. She sat quietly as he looked at the figures, re-totaled the columns and went back to check once more.

  He set his pencil down and sat back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose and pushing his hair back out of his eyes.

  “Tripp, what is it?”

  She leaned forward, her elbows on the table, hoping for the best.

  He slid the ledger over to Sadie and leaned back again.

  “Sadie, you ran your own business. Did you do the books?”

  “Yes,” she said, picking up the pencil. “Would you like me to go over this?”

  “Would you mind? I need to make sure that I’m right about this. Even though I hope I’m not. I’ll get some more coff
ee while you’re taking a look.”

  As the kitchen door swung behind him, Sadie turned slowly to the ledger he’d prepared. Her heart sank and the butterflies in her stomach took flight. It didn’t take long to see that they were almost in the red for this month, far from making enough to pay the loan installment.

  She sighed as Tripp returned and sat back down, his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands.

  “Is it as bad as I think it is?” he said, shaking his head slowly. “I thought that people were enjoying the food, loving the restaurant. And we seem to be full all the time.”

  She set the pencil down slowly in the center of the binder and looked up at him, his green eyes narrowed with concern. She didn’t want to break his heart, but she knew that something had to change and decided it was best just to say it. Again. She wouldn’t be a good partner if she didn’t.

  Her heart skipped a beat. Was that what he thought? That his food wasn’t good? “No, no, Tripp. It’s not that. Not at all.”

  She took his hand as he turned his face toward hers. “It’s a wonderful menu. People really enjoy it. But I think there are a couple of things happening.”

  “What do you mean?” He plopped his chin into his hand again as his elbow rested on the table.

  “Yes, we are full. But you know as well as I do that the dishes on the menu take quite a while to prepare. And customers have been content waiting with the bread we serve, but they wait a bit for their order, and they linger as the restaurant is so lovely.” Her heart calmed a bit as she saw a smile spread.

  “I’m glad they linger, and I’m glad they like what we serve them.” He shook his head once more, tapping the ledger. “But we won’t be able to serve them anything if this continues.”

  Sadie thought back to the comments of the customers about Tripp’s trail food—how many times they’d requested it. She’d shared it with Tripp, but at the time he’d dismissed it. Now that they were in dire straits, she hoped he’d be a little more open to the idea.