Page 14 of Quinn

The way Eloise’s eyes had lit up at each discovery wouldn’t leave him. How naturally she’d rattled off details about antique kitchen tools that he’d assumed were just junk. Her excitement over the Monarch stove had been contagious—he’d already decided to talk to Connie, Neil’s decorator wife, about having it restored. Somewhere on one of their past jobs back in Oklahoma, he remembered her having a restoration specialist who could take the ugliest piece of garbage and make it look—and work—like showroom new.

“Earth to Quinn.” Morgan’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Do you care where they put these boards?”

Quinn blinked, forcing his mind back to the task at hand. “Stack them along the east wall. They need to acclimate to the space before installation.”

Morgan rolled his eyes at his brother and walked away muttering, “Tell us something we don’t already know.”

Addressing the delivery people, Quinn extended his arm. “Pile the planks along that far wall, out of the way of our current working area.” One eye on the men stacking the wood, the rest of his mind was already mentally sketching what he himself would do to bring that old Hoosier cabinet back to life. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this excited about a project. All he hoped was that Eloise liked surprises.

Chapter Seven

The ranch kitchen buzzed with activity as Eloise pulled another pan of rolls from the oven. Cars and trucks had been arriving ever since church ended, the sounds of greetings and laughter drifted throughout the large family home. Ever since she’d found out that she would be awarded the position of head chef at the new restaurant, she’d been playing around with ideas for the menu. In the few days she’d been here, the Sisters had let her try out a few ideas in the Parlor’s kitchen. Now, Aunt Eileen had agreed to let her use the family for guinea pigs this afternoon.

“Something smells amazing.” Hannah appeared in the doorway, her dark hair pulled back in a neat braid. “Aunt Eileen said you’re testing new dishes on us.”

“Your aunt insisted.” Eloise checked her tried and true specialty, beef bourguignon, simmering on the stove. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Are you kidding? We never turn down good food.” Hannah flashed a toothy grin. “Need any help?”

Before Eloise could answer, more family members crowded the kitchen doorway. Meg, Adam’s wife, carried a tray of Toni’s cake balls. She was probably more excited to taste the cake balls that the entire town raved about than the family was to taste her food.

Smiling brightly, a slim blonde carried a large platter in her hand with four small children running circles around her. “Hey, no one wants me to drop Aunt Eileen’s favorite platter. Either slow down or take it outside.”

Eloise had done her best to keep a run down on who was who, but there were just too many names for her to remember everyone.

“Hi there, I’m Becky, Declan’s wife.”

“Eloise.”

“Oh, my.” Becky set the platter down on the kitchen table. “This looks like quite the feast cooking. Not to mention the kitchen smells heavenly!”

“Thank you.”

The four kids that had been circling hurried around the table then ran past them and out the door just as Becky shouted, “Don’t slam”—bang—“the door behind you.”

Eloise chuckled at the I-give-up expression on the woman’s face. “Are they all yours?”

Becky’s eyes rounded like silver dollars. “Heaven’s no. Connor, Jamison, Adam, and us all had kids within months of each other. Only the blonde with the long ponytail is mine.”

Just as Connor’s wife Catherine crossed into the kitchen, Aunt Eileen hurried in behind her. “Out, all of you. Let the woman work. Shoo!”

Laughing and chatting, the women slowly retreated, each one pairing off with their spouses. Eloise took a moment to absorb it all. The whole big crazy family was something foster kids dreamed of, but even in her wildest of imaginations, she’d never come up with a family quite like the Farradays.

“Sorry about that.” Aunt Eileen winked. “They’re just excited. We haven’t had a professional chef cook Sunday dinner since… well, ever.”

Stirring her sauce, Eloise added a pinch more thyme. “I just hope it lives up to expectations.”

“Oh honey,” Aunt Eileen squeezed her shoulder and smiled, “you passed those the first morning you made breakfast. Now you’re just showing off.”

The sound of children’s laughter echoed from outside, followed by the deeper rumble of men’s voices. Her heart squeezed, imagining Danny here in little more than a week, part of this warm chaos. He’d always been the one taking care of her, even when his own world was falling apart. Now maybe she could finally give him something he desperately needed—a place to heal.

“You’ve outdone yourself.” Aunt Eileen surveyed the kitchen. The rolls filled three baskets, and a chocolate bourbon pecan pie—her grandmother’s recipe—cooled on the counter.

To go with the beef, Eloise had kept things simple with her signature dishes. “I wanted to try different things, something for everyone’s taste,” Eloise explained. “The beef with rosemary roasted potatoes, fresh green beans with toasted almonds, and honey-glazed carrots is my sure thing. We’ll also have Chicken Roulade—stuffed with spinach, sun-dried tomatoes and goat cheese, served with a white wine sauce, or blackened redfish with crawfish cream sauce. For the sides, there’s roasted corn soufflé and Gruyere and green chili scalloped potatoes.”

“Wow. You’re spoiling us.” Aunt Eileen nodded approvingly. “Though I suspect you could serve shoe leather and this bunch would eat it if you made the sauce.” She straightened her shoulders and reached for serving dishes. “Time to get this show on the road.”

Whenever she cooked, she was in her own little section of heaven. Nothing could faze her. Suddenly, she was racked with doubts. Maybe she should have chosen all comfort standards. Maybe this part of the country wouldn’t appreciate goat cheese and whole fat French Gruyere. And maybe she should stop second-guessing herself.

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