Page 30 of Second Start: Family
“You don’t need many — I can lend you what you need.” She was already pulling things out of cabinets. “How about two cake pans? And a cooling rack?”
She looked up and frowned. Probably at his expression.
He wiped it clean of any frustration that a damned cake was so complicated. “I’ll find them,” he said. “Or figure something out.”
“No need. I have them right here. What sort of frosting are you going to make?”
“Frosting.” It wasn’t like he didn’t know what the stuff was, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be much of a birthday cake without frosting, but damn —frosting!
Her mouth pursed again.
“I could make the cake and bring it—”
“I’m making this cake.”
His voice was louder than it needed to be in the small trailer. Her frown shifted into concentration as she studied him, then changed again, like she understood why he’d insisted — which was a hell of a lot more than he did.
He cleared his throat. “And I’ve gotta get back to the house. So I’d be real grateful if I could borrow whatever things you think I’ll be needing, and give me this mix — I’ll get you one to replace it next time I’m at the store — and I’ll be on my way.”
“Of course.” She dipped down to a lower cabinet, he heard rattling, then two round, shallow pans appeared on the counter, followed by a couple squares of woven wire that set up off the surface on little legs.
She pulled out other items and had it all packed in a shopping bag in short order. It was a neat packing job, with nothing showing over the top of the bag. Looking down he could see a shaped rubber rectangle on a handle of wood. What the hell was that? And why did she think he would need it?
“Here you are, Mr. Quick.”
“Thank you, Ms. Smith.”
“You’re welcome.”
She walked him the four feet to the door and held it open. He tipped his hat and had one foot out the door when she spoke again.
“Mr. Quick?”
“Don’t you think Hall makes more sense when I’m carting off half your kitchen?”
The words must have been lurking below the surface of his mind to have come out so fast, but he hadn’t been aware of thinking them. And now he regretted them a little. Not enough to take back.
Just enough to feel a twinge of something he didn’t recognize when she said, “Okay. Hall. I was wondering…”
She stalled there, looking at her own hand holding the door open. He waited for her to restart.
“I…” She glanced toward his face, missing it by a good foot, seemed to realize he wasn’t going to guess at or prompt her next words, lifted her chin, and said evenly, “I could come with and help you bake the cake and frost it.”
“You’d do that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” Now, why did he say that? He hadn’t felt this relieved since he’d missed the signs of a breach calf until almost too late to save the calf and mother. When they both survived, a bubble lifted up in him of something coming right despite the odds. And here he was interrogating the gift horse? Was he nuts?
She said, “Because I know how and you don’t … yet.”
CHAPTER NINE
They hadn’t needed half the items she’d brought with her. The ingredients, yes, they’d needed those, except for the eggs, like he’d said. But the Quick kitchen was well-stocked with utensils, cake pans, and even a power mixer that wasn’t needed for the mix but came in handy for the frosting.
When she handed him the spatula to scrape the bowl’s sides while pouring the batter in the pan, he’d said with bemusement, “So, that’s what this is for.”
The oven dinged and Hall pulled out the second layer of cake. The oven temperature had proved decidedly uneven, with the right side not cooking nearly as fast as the left. So they’d slid the right-hand pan to the left side for more baking.
