Page 26 of Tattered and Torn

“What?”

“My granny’s famous apple crisp, served warm with vanilla ice cream and a browned butter caramel sauce drizzled over top.”

“Oh, wow,” she says. “Can you do that? Is there time?”

“Yeah, there’s still time. The problem is I don’t have all the ingredients I’d need, namely Granny Smith apples, brown sugar, and oats. We still have plenty of vanilla ice cream, so we’re good there. Everything else—like sugar and butter—I have.”

“I’ll drive you to Maggie’s if you want,” Hannah says. She gives me a hopeful look. “Just say the word.”

“Okay, I’ll grab my purse.”

It’s a quick drive to town. We park outside the grocery store and walk inside. Maggie’s standing behind the counter, and across from her is a man holding a tiny baby. A little baby girl, from the looks of it. She’s wrapped securely in a pale pink blanket.

“Hey, Maggie!” Hannah says. “Owen!”

I presume that’s Maggie’s husband. Wow. If he is, Maggie is one lucky lady. This guy is all kinds of hot, from the way his jeans hug his ass to his broad shoulders nicely filling out a red-and-black plaid flannel shirt. Do all the guys wear flannel shirts around here? It’s a good look. His brown hair is long and tied up in a man-bun.

Hannah makes a beeline for the baby and peers down at her. “Oh, my God, you guys. She’s so precious.”

“Honey, this is Gabrielle,” Maggie says to the man, who’s cuddling the baby against his broad chest.

He turns to me. “Hey, nice to meet you. Welcome to Bryce.”

“What brings you two in?” Maggie asks us.

“Granny Smith apples,” I say. “Plus brown sugar and old-fashioned rolled oats.”

Nodding, Maggie comes around the counter, holding up her index finger. “Sounds like someone’s making apple crisp. I’ve got everything you need. Just give me a second.”

“Gabrielle is making apple crisp and serving it a la mode with vanilla ice cream and a caramel sauce drizzled over top. And that’s just the dessert. She’s also making pot roast for supper tonight.”

Owen gazes across the store at Maggie, who’s currently in the produce department bagging up some apples. “Hey, honey, do we have plans for dinner?”

Maggie laughs. “Do you suddenly have a hankering for pot roast?”

“You bet I do,” Owen says.

“Yeah, you guys should come tonight,” Hannah says. “Bring the kids.”

“Looks like we’ll be there,” Maggie says as she brings the items I need to the counter.

Hannah pulls out a credit card and hands it to Maggie. “Remind me to get you your own company credit card,” she tells me.

After checking out, Hannah and I return to the lodge. I get started right away on tonight’s dessert. I have enough apples to make three crisps. I just hope that’ll be enough. Somehow I’m afraid it won’t be.

While the roast and veggies are cooking slowly to perfection, I take some measurements in the kitchen and sketch my ideas for the upgrades that need to be made.

We open our doors for dinner at five. There’s already a line. I man the host podium and seat guests while Tammy takes orders. We have a steady stream of diners coming in. And then, around six, we get an unexpected rush. Apparently, word got out about the pot roast. Not only do we have lodge guests dining with us tonight, but some folks from town show up as well, including the sheriff.

“I came for the pot roast,” Chris says when he finally reaches the podium. “Please tell me there’s some left.”

“You’re in luck. There’s plenty more,” I say.

“I couldn’t pass up pot roast.” He takes off his sheriff’s hat. “Have you eaten supper?”

“No, not yet. I’ve been running nonstop since we opened. I haven’t had a chance.”

“Can you take a break and join me for dinner?”

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