Lakeside Hero (Men Of Millbrook Lake Book 1) (5 page)

Chapter Five

M
arla brushed at her hairnet and checked the fifty cupcakes she had baking for a birthday party out on the lake: twenty-five yellow-cake-flavored and twenty-five chocolate-flavored that she would turn into Suzie Sunflower Lemon and Cocoa Marshmallow Crème for a ten-year-old named Susan, who just happened to love sunflowers, chocolate and marshmallows.

“How we doing?” her assistant, Brandy, asked, her short hair spiked underneath her hairnet and her dangling gold earrings sparkling. “I have the yellow icing ready and I’m working on the chocolate.” She glanced down at the pattern they’d created on the iPad. “Love the flower-shaped icing.”

“About five more minutes,” Marla said in answer to her question. She glanced at the clock. Almost eleven. “Mrs. Fontaine wants these by three since the party starts at five.”

“Piece of cake,” Brandy replied with a red-lipped grin.

That term was a joke around here. Marla laughed and hurried back to the sheet cake she planned to put in the oven next, for an anniversary party Sunday night at the church. White cake with cream-cheese icing and some colorful sparkles. The couple had been married forty-two years and they had five grown children and twelve grandchildren. They wanted the sparkles since they maintained they still had some spark in their marriage.

Marla smiled at that. She loved her job because, for the most part, she was involved in a lot of happy events—weddings, parties, showers and celebrations. Once, she’d even made cupcakes for a funeral—per a woman’s three grown children.

“She loved cupcakes,” one of the sons had explained. “She’d want us to have some at her memorial dinner.”

Happy or sad, family was important. Marla was blessed to have her family nearby, but she did dream of having a special someone. Someone to hold and love, someone to make her laugh. Someone who knew she loved cookies and cupcakes.

When she thought of how those things had been sorely lacking in her own volatile marriage, she pushed away the guilt of not being a better wife and mother and went back to creating marzipan icing for the cupcakes. The mixture of sugar, almond paste and egg whites could be molded and formed into just about any shape or design. When the bell on the front door jingled, she glanced into the pass-through, expecting to see her mother with Gabby. Gabby had spent the night with her parents but was due here any minute to spend the day “helping Mommy.”

But instead of her mother and Gabby, Hattie Marshall breezed in, her short salt-and-pepper curls framing her still-smooth porcelain face. “Hello, Marla,” the older woman called with a chuckle. “It sure smells good in here.”

Marla dropped the bag of powdered sugar she’d been measuring and headed out to greet one of her best customers. Miss Hattie loved to cook but when it came to desserts for big groups, she always ordered from the bakery. Usually over the phone and usually she’d send someone to pick up her orders. Marla only knew her from seeing her at the big farmer’s market outside of town. Marla’s parents used to run a booth out there during peak vegetable season.

“What a nice surprise,” Marla said, glad for this short break. “What can I help you with today?”

Miss Hattie smiled and held a hand to her pearls. “I’m hosting the garden club this month and, since the gardens at Caldwell House are in full bloom, I thought I’d have an afternoon tea in the backyard.”

Caldwell House?

Marla tried to hide her surprise. “Uh...okay. That’s a nice idea but...” Then it hit her. “Oh, I’d completely forgotten that you and Vivian Caldwell are...were...sisters. I was sorry to hear of her passing.”

Hattie nodded, a touch of sadness in her smile. “I know, honey. You’ve been away for a few years now so you wouldn’t know the details. After my sister passed, my nephew Alec invited me to come and live with him at Caldwell House. He claimed he didn’t want me living alone anymore, but just between you and me, I think he was the one who was lonely. Since I’m a master gardener and since I love to cook, I think he also wanted a feminine touch for the gardens and that massive kitchen.” She shrugged. “You know that’s a big old house and, well, he’d just returned from serving our country.” She put a hand over her mouth. “And recovery from his injuries, at that.”

Marla absorbed all of the intimate details as she suddenly understood why Alec needed a friend closer to his age. A doting aunt would be good company some days, but not so much at other times. But she did think it was incredibly sweet of him to ask his aunt to live at Caldwell House. “Yes, I guess I can see the logic of you moving in there with him.”

Marla could also see the rather obvious reason Miss Hattie had come by to place her order in person. Nothing went unnoticed in a small town. Lately, Marla had ignored the local grapevine and focused on her work, but she needed to start paying more attention to the things happening around her.

Especially when this one particular thing seemed to involve her. In an unspoken way, of course.

Hattie Marshall took her time glancing into the glass display case. “I heard you and Alec met at that scandalous Alvanetti wedding.”

“Yes,” Marla said, checking behind her to make sure her small staff wouldn’t hear. She didn’t like gossiping about her clients. “I talked to him briefly after the wedding—”

“And gave him a piece of wedding cake,” Miss Hattie interrupted. “He sure did brag about how good that cake was.”

“Yes, well, I had plenty left over.” Marla wanted to slink underneath the counter but at least Alec had mentioned her gesture. “I’m glad he liked the cake.”

“And the cupcakes you served at that church function last week.” Miss Hattie glanced around. “Marla, this place is adorable.”

Glad that Alec’s ditzy but sweet aunt had moved on, Marla took in the white wrought-iron bistro tables, the matching chairs and the soft blue walls lined with counters that held tempting desserts, breads and cookies. She’d found some inexpensive art pieces to grace the walls—a picnic scene on the beach and a Victorian-styled downtown scene that reminded her of Millbrook Lake. “I had a lot of help remodeling this place.”

Hattie nodded and smiled. “I’m glad you’ve been so successful. But I’ve kept you long enough, so I’ll get right to business.”

And so they did.

Hattie Marshall ordered an array of tea sandwiches and iced sugar cookies, along with three dozen dark-chocolate and coconut truffles.

“I’ll make the chicken salad since I’m famous for my chicken salad,” she explained. “Oh, and I’ll need you to deliver this the day of the party.”

“Me, deliver to the house?” Marla asked before she could catch herself. Of course she delivered her own products. Sometimes because she didn’t trust anyone else for the job.

“You do deliver, right?” Hattie’s green eyes sparkled.

“Yes, ma’am.” Marla would just send someone else this time. But with an order this big, she’d want to make sure everything was perfect—so she’d probably have to take someone with her and do it herself. How could she avoid that?

She hoped Alec wouldn’t be around. Why would any man stay there with thirty women taking over the place? Besides, it was a big rambling house. She might not even see him at all. But what did it matter if she did run into him? They were...tentative friends.

Nothing more.

But Hattie Marshall’s parting words spoke of something more. “I’m glad you and Alec have become acquainted. He could use a few more friends here in town since he’s been away and well...he’s a bit stubborn about getting out more.” Then she held on to her designer purse and gave Marla a direct stare. “He needs to develop a new confidence and realize that people won’t notice anything but his big heart.”

Marla’s heart opened at that comment. “I couldn’t agree more, Miss Hattie. I do believe Alec has a good heart.”

“I thought you might say that,” Hattie replied. “I’ll see you in two weeks...at Caldwell House.”

Marla jotted notes and waved goodbye. “Thank you, Miss Hattie.”

After Hattie had left, Brandy marched up to Marla. “Your cupcakes are cooling. Tell me, what’s up with you and the Dream Marine?”

Marla couldn’t hide her surprise. “Excuse me?”

“That’s what all the girls around here call him,” Brandy explained. “A dream of a marine—maybe McMarine. Yeah, I like that. A real hero with a mysterious scar. Like a pirate, but in a good way. Sigh.”

Marla slapped lightly at her young, impressionable assistant. “He is a hero—he got that scar serving our country—but I don’t have time to dwell on his other attributes. We’ve got to get these cupcakes iced and out the door.”

Brandy grinned and started a singsong teasing. “You like him. You really, really like him.”

“Hush,” Marla retorted, a heated blush moving up her neck. “I don’t even know the man. Back to work.”

But she had to smile because she did like Alec Caldwell, the Dream Marine.

Really, really.

* * *

He now noticed her delivery van all over town.

He’d never made the connection before, but now it was kind of hard to miss the white van with the colorful confections glazed across the sides. Marla’s Marvelous Desserts were beginning to haunt his dreams.

Alec didn’t know why he couldn’t seem to shake her but Marla’s cute face was messing with his head. He had too much to do, so he needed to get his head out of the clouds and back in the here and now.

Today, he was on the outskirts of town standing on a now-vacant car dealership waiting to talk with a real estate agent. The real estate agent had been helping Alec scout possible locations for the Caldwell Canines training school and boarding kennel. This place just might do the trick.

Located in front of a big field, the massive building had been vacant for three years and the land behind it was also up for sale. It was away from any subdivisions and it was zoned commercial, so it was a perfect place to train animals. Plus, the main building would make a great training area, especially since they could build mock kitchens and other rooms to help with training any veterans who were in wheelchairs. Alec also hoped to build some dorm rooms and a large activity room, so veterans and others who needed service dogs could stay on-site while they trained.

All of this would take a lot of money and a lot of man power, of course. But the first step was securing the place.

Alec walked around the building, doing a preliminary check. When a sleek white sports car pulled up, he held back a groan. His Realtor had sent one of his newest recruits. Alec watched as Annabelle Banks took her time climbing out of her tiny car, all legs and blond hair as she curled and lifted her tall frame and then reached back inside for her huge designer purse.

Annabelle had grown up in Miami and she’d followed a military man to Northwest Florida. They’d parted ways after a few months. After being around her a few times, Alec could understand why. Some people just never adjusted to small-town life.

Annabelle was one of those people.

“Hello there, handsome,” she called as she waved her red-tipped nails in the air. “I haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays, you sly dog.”

Alec motioned, pointing to his chest. “Who, me? I’ve been around.”

“You’ve been hiding out in that gorgeous old house, is what I hear,” she retorted as her high heels clinked against the hot asphalt. “I have my sources.”

“I’m out in the daylight now,” Alec replied. “And since it’s hot out here, let’s get inside.” He glanced at his watch and refrained from telling her she was ten minutes late.

She knew that already. Just as she knew the asphalt wasn’t the only hot thing out here—in her mind, anyway.

“Oh, stop frowning. You won’t melt.”

“I might,” he replied with a smile.

Once they were inside, Annabelle went into professional mode. “It’s a good space, Alec. Reggie thinks you’d be crazy not to make an offer. You can probably name your price. You know the dealership went bust and the owner had to take an early retirement. It’s just sitting here empty.”

“So I’ve heard.” Alec wanted to make this place new again, to bring it back to life. He hated seeing vacant, run-down buildings all around town. But with the bad economy, there wasn’t much anyone could do. Or maybe he had that wrong. Maybe he could at least try to bring life back to the outskirts of the town proper. If Lake Street could revive itself into a quaint little village on the square, surely he could do something about the strip malls and other commercial buildings.

“Whataya thinking?” Annabelle asked, her baby blues moving over his face with way too much interest.

“Let’s take a look around and then I’ll let you know,” Alec replied, ready to get on with his busy day.

Annabelle giggled and walked him through the rest of the vast property. Alec had a few questions so she tapped notes in her mini-electronic tablet. About thirty minutes later, they were back outside and Alec hurried to open her car door. Annabelle dropped her bag in the seat, then turned and leaned on the door, her face inches from his.

Tossing her long locks, she gave him a brilliant smile. “When am I gonna see you at the country club again?”

“I’m not a golfer.”

She leaned even closer. “I wasn’t necessarily talking about golf.”

Alec grinned and tried to back up.

And that was when he glanced up and saw the white van that chased him in his dreams. Marla’s marvelous van made its way along the nearly deserted road. And Marla herself gave him a long, surprised glance before the van sped away.

Chapter Six

“Y
ou’ll stay and have tea and sandwiches with us, of course.”

The command was steeped in such a sweet smile, Marla wondered how she’d be able to decline Hattie Marshall’s request. She’d planned for this delivery to be an in-and-out kind of thing. Just place the requested food in the huge kitchen and let the hired staff do the rest. Not that Marla minded helping out, since her name was on all the delivery boxes, but she didn’t want to linger too long at Caldwell House.

“Marla, I insist,” Miss Hattie said with that smile made of steel and sugar.

Marla didn’t intend to cave, so she gave Miss Hattie her best shot. “I can’t stay. I mean, I’m the caterer and I’m not dressed—”

Hattie took her by the arm and tugged her toward the big double doors to the back veranda of Caldwell House. “We’re having this shindig out in the garden. You have on that cute sundress and you’re wearing that glorious smile. You’ll fit right in.” Hattie leaned close and giggled. “I invited your mother, too.”

Marla drew back. “You what?”

“I like your mother. Haven’t seen her since they retired and moved to that quaint village out on the other end of the lake. Do you know, I used to buy fresh produce from your parents at the Millbrook Market just about every Saturday during the summer? Their booth always had the freshest vegetables. Delton always speaks of them kindly and he sure misses doing business with them.”

Marla didn’t want to spoil Miss Hattie’s memories by telling her that her parents had worked so hard in those days that they’d come home, collapse in their recliners, go to bed and then get up at dawn and start all over again. Or that she’d been in the back of the farmer’s market, washing and sorting those vegetables on most summer days.

From picking the vegetables and carting them to the market to making sure they had help both in the fields and at their produce booth, her parents had loved their chaotic life. But it was a hardworking, common-people kind of life. Not a let’s-have-tea-in-the-garden kind of life.

But Hattie Marshall meant well and she had always been sincere and straightforward. Plus, she was a loyal customer to Marla now. “Thank you, Miss Hattie. My mom doesn’t get to enjoy such fancy occasions, but they have fun with their friends at the retirement village. I’m so glad you invited her today. She’s always wanted to see Caldwell House up close.”

“I’ll give you both the tour once our other guests leave.”

They were at the back of the house now. Marla had tried not to drool over the big, sunny kitchen with the industrial-size appliances, or the breakfast room with white wicker tables and chairs and a bay window overlooking the huge colorful garden.

She and her helpers had gone about their business, setting out the finger sandwiches, tea cakes and round creamy truffles on tables on the deep porch that wrapped around the back of the house.

Miss Hattie had covered two long tables with lacy white tableclothes and her kitchen staff had set out fine china—delicate teacups etched with yellow roses, matching luncheon plates and yellow-tinted goblets for the sweet mint-and-lemon iced tea. There was an urn for coffee and hot water for hot tea. Huge glass containers of water with lemon slices and strawberries floating in ice also graced one of the tables.

“Not too shabby,” Brandy had whispered earlier while they were setting up. “We’re uptown now for sure.”

“Beautiful,” Marla had replied. Then she’d shooed Brandy back into the kitchen to bring out the food while she directed the hired staff on how she wanted things to look for the best presentation.

Miss Hattie had thought of everything. She had several mesh oval and round food covers decorated with tiny flowers on their rims to cover the food. This was standard in the South, where bugs loved outdoor events as much as humans did and where no polite hostess would dare leave food out uncovered.

“Everything is ready,” Marla said, her back to the open doors. “It’s a great day for this. Sunny but not too hot.”

“Perfect,” Miss Hattie said, her eyes brightening at someone behind Marla.

Marla turned and stood face-to-face with Alec Caldwell.

Not sure what to say, she smiled and tugged at her ponytail. “Uh...hi.” She’d managed to avoid him up until now but she’d heard some of the ladies commenting on how he’d escorted them to their tables. The man was certainly full of surprises—at first, a tough, buff soldier but then seeming to morph into a gentlemanly usher and escort.

“Hello,” he said, his hand automatically raking across his scar. “That dainty food out there looks so good. I think we owe that to you, Marla.”

His eyes moved over her face with each word, causing Marla to overheat in spite of the gentle breezes playing across the porch. “You aunt had a lot to do with that. I just followed her instructions.”

“And she cooked up a wonderful luncheon for us,” Miss Hattie replied.

“Speaking of that, I’d better check on the food one more time,” Marla said as she brushed past Alec.

“And find your seat,” Miss Hattie called. “I put you with your mother and two of her church friends.”

“Thank you,” Marla said, her heart pounding. What was wrong with her? Was she having some sort of panic attack? She needed to remember the last time she’d seen Alec. He’s been standing in an empty parking lot talking cozily to a gorgeous blonde. Hard to get that image out of her mind, but at least it had brought her back to reality. He was off-limits to Marla.

“Are you all right?”

She whirled to find Alec behind her on the porch. Brandy pranced by with a smug smile, and two of the extra staff members Miss Hattie had hired gave Marla and Alec questioning stares.

Alec seemed to pick up on that, his hand touching on the scar. “Let me take you to your mother’s table.”

Regaining some of her equilibrium, Marla shook her head. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. “You don’t have to do that. I shouldn’t even sit down and eat. I’m here to make sure the food is served—”

“No, my aunt has people to handle that. You
supplied
the food, and while you’re out there with the other ladies, you can enjoy it. That way, you’ll never know I’ll be in the kitchen snitching a couple of those little women sandwiches and maybe some of Aunt Hattie’s chicken salad. And a truffle or two, of course.”

Marla couldn’t stop her giggle. “I’ll alert the proper authorities.”

“No, no. My aunt is
the
authority around here. She somehow convinced me that I needed to be polite and escort the ladies, so if I have to suffer through this, then so do you. Besides, she’d be appalled if she found me sulking in the kitchen. Probably send me to my room without lunch or dinner.”

Aunt Hattie strolled by. “I heard that, Alec Caldwell. And I’m glad you recognize my status. Now, go along and steal some food. We have things to do here that don’t involve handsome, brooding men.” Then she winked. “Of course, we might actually talk about handsome, brooding men, right, Marla?”

Marla shrugged and hoped she wasn’t blushing. “Now you know what women really do at these functions. We try to figure out the male species.”

“Well, all the best with that,” Alec said. “But I will take you to your table as planned.” He glanced back at his aunt. “Even though I’m a brooding, devastatingly handsome, wonderful example of the male species.”

Marla didn’t miss the sarcasm in his words. She could only imagine how uncomfortable he must have been earlier, being coerced to make small talk with a crowd of curious women. He was being overly considerate to insist on escorting her or anyone else to a table. And that was just it. Alec Caldwell had been raised to respect women and to be a gentleman. That was rare, and while she liked being independent, it was nice to be treated like a lady every now and then. She thanked God for that at least and lifted up a short prayer for Alec.
Let him see his worth, Lord
.

* * *

Alec had only agreed to help escort all the ladies to their seats because several of them were getting on in age and, as his aunt had pointed out in her charming way, “We don’t need them falling and their orthopedic shoes going up in the air with them.”

Of course not. He only hoped
he
didn’t fall. His leg didn’t hurt too much today, so maybe he wouldn’t embarrass himself too much. But Alec had an ulterior motive for deciding to stay and risk people staring at his scar or giving him pitying glances. He’d wanted to see Marla Hamilton again.

Now he held her elbow in the way his mother and aunt had taught him from the time he could walk and guided her to one of the round tables decorated with fat white magnolias and deep pink azalea blossoms.

“I’d like to meet your mother,” he said. “My aunt knows everyone in town, but she speaks highly of your parents.”

Marla smiled at that. “Joyce and Walt Reynolds. They know just about everyone in town, too.”

“Except me, apparently.”

“I’m sure they’ve heard of you.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond to that comment. Had her parents heard the gossip about him? About his injuries? Probably.

As if sensing his insecurities and doubts, Marla glanced up at him. “You’re a returning hero, Alec. This whole town knows what you sacrificed.”

He wanted to snap at her and tell her this whole town felt sorry for him, but that wasn’t true. He just felt sorry for himself at times. But when he thought of how some of his buddies had come home in body bags, he straightened and thanked God he had an opportunity to start all over again. He would honor them by trying to be a better man.

“Thank you,” he said, the burst of anger and regret lifting out in the wind that played through the old oaks.

They’d reached her table and so far, he hadn’t said or done anything stupid.

“Hey, Mom.” Marla leaned down to hug a plump older version of herself. Marla’s mother had short blondish-brown hair with a few streaks of silver mixed in. But her eyes were the same spring green as her daughter’s. “Have you met Alec?”

Her mother smiled and shook her head, her gaze moving over Alec with interest. “No, not officially, but he’s been helping all of us to our tables, so we appreciate you, Alec.”

Alec reached out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Reynolds.”

“Call me Joyce,” she said. Then she introduced him to all the curious women at her table. After the small talk had died down, she continued, “We love this garden. It was so thoughtful of your aunt to include me and insist that Marla takes a break and sits with her old mama. That’s a rare treat for us.”

He glanced over at Marla and pulled out the heavy white plastic chair for her. “Then I’ll let you enjoy your luncheon. I know the food will be delicious.”

Marla sat down and let him help her with the chair. “Thanks,” she said again, her smile hesitant. “And get yourself a plate of food.”

“I will,” he replied. With a wave to all the women, Alec turned and hurried back to the house. His limp only reminded him that he couldn’t move as fast as he used to, but in a pinch he could make a gallant escape. Escorting the women to their tables required going slowly, so that hadn’t been so difficult after all. Getting away from his newfound feelings regarding Marla—well, that proved to be more of a problem than he’d considered.

Once he was inside, he leaned against the hallway wall and took a deep breath. Every now and then, he had sudden panic attacks that came out of nowhere. But with therapy, he’d learned to control them. So he took another deep, calming breath, and closed his eyes and focused on the image of Marla sitting in the garden with her mother.

A sweet image that did bring him a small joy. He often wondered what his life might have been like if his father had lived and if his mother had taken time to enjoy her life and her only son.

“Alec?”

He opened his eyes and stood up straight. His aunt touched a hand to his face, over his scar. “Thank you, darlin’,” she said. Then she kissed his cheek the way she’d done so many times when he was a boy. “Your mother would be so proud of you.”

And with that, she breezed away, her floral dress swishing, her pearls glistening and her spine straight.

But Alec had to wonder.
Would
his mother have been proud of him?