Special Delivery. Judi Lynn
The rich aroma of beef stock and simmering soup wafted through the house when he knocked and Karli called for him to come in. He handed her the long loaf of French bread and a bottle of red wine when he found her in the kitchen. He sniffed and was sure he caught the scent of apples, too.
She smiled and said, “The apple dumplings will be finished soon. Why don’t you clean Axel first, wash up, and then we’ll have supper?”
That worked for him. He’d get the crappy job out of the way, and then he could enjoy the rest of the night. He helped Axel into his wheelchair and then pushed him into the bathroom. He rolled up his sleeves and supported him under his arms to scoot him from the wheelchair to the bath chair made for invalids. It sat in and out of the tub, so he helped Axel strip down, and then lifted his legs to scoot him across the seat to the side behind the shower curtain. He tinkered with the water until it was the right temperature, then hit the button for the shower and closed the curtain most of the way.
When Axel’s hair was soaked, he squirted shampoo on it and scrubbed, then rinsed. Next, he soaped up the wash cloth and scrubbed Axel’s back and bottom. He shook his head. Yup, he’d seen more of Axel than he ever wanted to see, but the old man couldn’t reach behind himself. He soaped the cloth again and handed it to him. “Go to it. Don’t miss any spots.”
He waited until Axel gave him a call, then gave him a quick once-over, turned off the water, and dried him with a thick towel. He dried his hair, too, and ran a comb through it. “You’re nothing to brag about, but you’re clean.”
The old man snorted. “Don’t forget the beard.”
Keagan draped the towel over him and trimmed the wiry whiskers as well as he could.
He grabbed a clean, disposable diaper and slid it on him, followed by the clean sweatpants and shirt. He pulled slippers on Axel’s feet and started to roll him back to his room.
“I want to eat in the dining room.”
Keagan stared.
“Karli said I could if I cleaned up.”
Was that what this was all about? “We’re eating out there,” Keagan told him.
“I know.”
Keagan scowled. “One nasty comment, and I . . .”
“I know. You’ll hike me back to bed.”
He would, too, damn it. He and the old man had an understanding.
Karli carried a giant tureen to the cherry table, along with a platter that held the sliced bread. She put a trivet on the table and carried out a nine-by-thirteen dish filled with apple dumplings.
Axel’s jaw dropped. So did Keagan’s. His mom made wonderful meals on Sundays, but he loved this combination. While she dished up food for Axel, Keagan opened the bottle of red wine he’d brought. When he paused over Axel’s glass, the old man nodded.
“You sure?” He turned to Karli. “Do we have to worry about any of the medicine he takes?”
“Let him have a glass. Tonight’s special,” she told him.
Keagan didn’t think it was possible, but Axel was on his best behavior while they ate. Well, he didn’t say much, mostly shoveled food into his face, but he seemed to enjoy listening to their conversation. Karli asked about the different farms in the area, and Keagan happily told her about the families and the specialties they raised.
“Mill Pond’s changed a lot in the last five to ten years,” he said. “People got together and decided to up their game. We wanted to bring more tourists and money into town, and it’s worked out better than we thought.”
“Do you sell a lot of your dinnerware?” Karli asked.
“Almost more than I can keep up with. I’ve never wanted to own a shop of my own. I’m happy displaying my work at Ian’s inn and in Art’s grocery, but I’d like a bigger studio someday, so that I can make more inventory and products.”
Axel paid attention to that and pointed a finger in his direction. “You’ve got to be close to having enough money by now.”
Keagan nodded. “I live on my mailman wages, but I’ve socked every penny I make from the dinnerware in the bank.”
“For how long?” Axel asked.
“Eight years now. It wasn’t anything to brag about when I started out, but I could almost live off it now. If I find the right property, I can afford it.”
“Good. You’ve earned it.”
Karli glanced at Axel, surprised, but didn’t comment. When they finished the soup, she went to the kitchen and brought back a gallon of vanilla ice cream. Keagan loved apple dumplings, especially a la mode, and had to stop himself from asking for seconds. By the time they ate the last bite, Axel sagged back in his chair, tired.
Keagan laid a hand on his shoulder. “The food and the wine’s done you in. Ready for bed?”
“I changed your sheets while you were in the shower,” Karli said. “You should sleep well tonight.”
Axel grunted and Keagan rolled him to his room and got him into bed. A few minutes later, they heard the TV turn on. Keagan shook his head. “Always with the TV.”
“He needs something to distract him,” Karli said. “But he won’t last long tonight.”
“Neither will I. After we clean up, I’d better go home. We plan to be here early tomorrow to work on the porch.”
When the last dish was dried, Karli yawned. “I’m going to call it an early night, too.”
On his drive home, Keagan had to admit he’d enjoyed himself at Axel’s. Karli was good company and one hell of a cook. Too bad she was only going to be here for a short time. He felt comfortable with her. He liked most people, but he wasn’t very social. He spent most of his free time in his studio. His mom bugged him about being too private. Maybe he was, but the idea of growing old alone didn’t bother him. Not after Cecily. He chuckled. Maybe he’d turn grumpy and stubborn like Axel in his old age.
Chapter 10
Karli set her alarm and got up early on Saturday morning. She pulled on an old pair of jeans and a lightweight sweater but took care with her hair and makeup. Keagan would be here, after all. In a hurry, she’d fixed overnight oatmeal for Axel and was surprised when he asked for seconds.
“That’s what my mom made for us kids when I was little,” he told her. For being such a curmudgeon, the old man sure put his mom on a pedestal. She liked that.
“Want me to help you clean up before everyone gets here?” She thought he’d turn her down, but he nodded. She supported him so that he could slide into his wheelchair and then he waved her away.
“I can do the rest.”
“Okay, go for it.” The more he did for himself, the better. After she cleaned up their breakfast things, she got out the ingredients for the chicken-fried steak and had to laugh at herself. Good God, she was turning into Suzie Homemaker! She rarely cooked three days in a row, but she wanted to impress Keagan and his friends. And if food really was a way to a man’s heart, she’d cook up a storm.
The men pulled into the driveway as soon as there was sunlight. Keagan came with Brad and introduced her to Tyne and Harley when they arrived. Be still her heart. But they both wore wedding rings. Someone had already scooped them up.
What the hell was in the water in Mill Pond? Harley had a rocker look with his dark, shaggy hair and long, lean build. He made her think of an Italian on steroids. Yum! He also had a thick, gold band on his ring finger. Hands off! Brad dazzled with his golden curls, and Tyne . . . Tyne looked like a walking sex commercial with his dirty blonde hair, stubble, and awesome body. His ring was silver, but married was married. To her, not one of them was as appealing as Keagan.
She did her best smile-and-greet routine.