LITMIR.BIZ

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nod over his shoulder and stalked out the door. Today had not gone at all like he’d wanted.

       Chapter 5

      Beth yanked at the ragweed. The blasted thing wouldn’t come out, but the fight of taking back her garden was just what she needed to stem the aggression coursing her ever since Mark left.

      Who did he think he was, showing up here, kissing her, holding her? She shook her head to clear the image and got back to work. It didn’t help that she could still feel his lips on hers, or his hands on her hips or taste his tongue in her mouth.

      She yanked harder at the weed. It gave way with an audible pop and Beth fell onto her backside in the dirt.

      She looked down the row of newly emerging corn that she’d already weeded. Satisfaction brought a smile to her lips. There was something about digging in the dirt that was good for the soul.

      Another hour and she should be done this half of the garden. She got back up and dusted off her ass and grabbed the push-hoe. The weeds didn’t stand a chance now.

      When she’d moved into the ‘Old House’, this garden had long ago grown in but she’d fixed the fence around it, turned it over and planted new vegetable seedlings. But the Old House hadn’t been used since her parents had first been married and the grass and wildflowers had a firm grip on the old garden. No matter how often she weeded out here, she always found long-forgotten weeds poking their heads through the newly turned dirt. Beth just hoped they wouldn’t choke her vegetables.

      The sun was past the zenith when she next looked up. She felt dizzy and her back hurt from bending over for so long. She stamped her feet to get some feeling back in her knees. They were absolutely covered in dirt from her morning’s toil. But she felt good. While she was pulling weeds she’d sorted a few things out.

      As much as it terrified her, she knew she needed to talk to Kelsey. She’d rehearsed her speech over and over in her mind until she was sure she’d got it just right. When she woke up this morning, she briefly thought about not telling Kelsey anything and just carrying on as though nothing had happened. But Beth knew herself; at some stage she would accidentally let it slip. Besides, she didn’t know what Mark might say to her either. It was better that she told Kelsey now.

      After she sorted out Kelsey, she thought about her own life. Six months ago she was excited about opening the bed and breakfast and she’d even convinced herself it was what she wanted out of life. But it wasn’t. Not really.

      Beth walked back to the house. It had been so exciting to spruce up the old place. Even though it hadn’t been used for decades, it had always been looked after and wasn’t too run down. Everyone had always assumed that Ben would end up living here one day, but after Rachel died he moved away and the ranch needed money so Beth convinced herself she wanted a bed and breakfast. So the Old House turned into Beth’s Country Home. And in the end it was because Beth had set up the website advertising the B&B that the ranch was able to climb out of debt.

      Thank goodness Brian Hargrave had happened upon her website. Without the filming contract, Mom and Dad would have had to sell the ranch and Beth couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

      At the same time she now knew she also couldn’t imagine running a B&B for the rest of her life either. Before Rachel got sick and money wasn’t so tight and Beth thought dreams came true because she wanted them to, she’d wanted to be a chef.

      Beth went straight to the bathroom when she got into the house and set to work trying to wash the dirt off her hands. It took a few scrubs of the brush and some elbow grease to get them clean. She then went to her favourite room in the whole house. Her kitchen. She absolutely loved being in here. The sun washed the wooden countertops in gold and the open white cupboards displayed all her crockery and glasses. The stainless steel of her gas hob and fridge sparkled in the sunlight. The butter-yellow walls and the bowl of fruit on the table welcomed guests to sit down and make their selves at home.

      Beth poured herself an iced tea and sat down at the table. She still needed a shower to wash off the dirt but first she needed to rehydrate.

      In Bassville there was a little café she’d fantasised owning ever since the cooking bug bit her. When she was a teenager she’d spent every available moment at the Cat’s Whiskers Café. She’d always wanted to work there but there was too much to do on the ranch after school and over summer holidays for her to have a part-time job. But that didn’t discourage her dream of owning it one day.

      Rachel’s death did that.

      After Rachel died, Beth felt guilty about the pleasure cooking gave her. She shouldn’t feel happy when her sister was dead. And yet, she couldn’t stop herself from cooking either. It was the only time during the long days after Rachel passed away that she was able to forget the pain. She felt guilty for that too.

      Her mom had suggested she open up the Old House to visitors. Beth admitted that it was the idea of having someone to cook for that persuaded her to open the guest house.

      And having Helga around and cooking for her every day was great. Never once since she arrived had Helga acted like an actress. Not that Beth knew any actresses and therefore didn’t know how they behaved. She supposed she was guilty of believing what the gossip magazines said. But Helga was lovely.

      Speaking of Helga, Beth glanced at the clock on the wall. She had just enough time to take a quick shower before she started to think about making dinner. It was her favourite time of day when she could take a moment and sit down and decide what she would cook.

      In the shower, inspiration struck. Back downstairs, freshly showered, Beth knelt down next to her sideboard, a gift from her grandmother, opened the door and reached all the way to the back of the bottom shelf. She smiled when her hands brushed the rough cover of her recipe folder. She pulled it out from behind the bottles of liquor and brushed the cobweb that clung to the corner. It was her secret stash of recipes she wanted to grace the menu of her own café one day.

      While she was there, she grabbed a bottle of red wine from bottom shelf for good measure and poured herself a glass, leaving the bottle open on the table for when Helga got back from today’s set.

      She sat at the table and, with reverence, opened the cover of the folder. The first page was filled with pictures she’d snipped out of magazines of the interiors of cafés and restaurants. She ran her fingers over the clippings. Some of them she no longer liked. She’d started the folder years ago and some of those places she’d so coveted were now really out of style. She grinned at the bright-orange walls of one of the cafes and she plucked at the corner of the picture but decided to keep it there as a reminder.

      She turned the page.

      Stuffed button mushrooms with blue cheese sauce was the first of the hors d’oeuvre. She slowly read the ingredients and in her mind’s eye prepared them for a restaurant full of customers. Her stomach growled. She shook her head and laughed. She didn’t need appetisers tonight.

      She flipped further into the folder, past the starters, salads and luncheon dishes. Rare roast beef with fresh horseradish cream, buttermilk garlic mashed potatoes and steamed seasonal vegetables was the perfect thing for a trial run. Roast beef was the very first thing she had ever cooked. She could still remember putting it into the oven for the first time. She could make this dinner blindfolded. She’d make Yorkshire puddings too. Ben loved those and she was sure he’d be joining her and Helga for dinner a lot more since this weekend when they’d disappeared together. Beth was happy for them. Ben hadn’t had a lot of joy in his life the last couple of years and, by the sound of it, Helga was in need of happiness too.

      She took a large drink from her glass, relishing the tartness of the wine as it bit into her palate. She had another sip, this time smaller and set to work getting all the ingredients together. She hated starting a recipe only to find that she didn’t have everything handy. It had the potential of ruining a dish if she had to stop to find something crucial to the outcome of the dish. After checking everything on her list, she was satisfied she had everything she needed.

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