what worked...and what didnât.â Sylvie smiled wryly, recalling those early disasters. âAfter high school, I received a scholarship to a culinary institute in New York City.â
A look of awe blanketed the girlâs face. âYou must be really smart.â
âI simply loved baking.â Sylvie shrugged off the praise. âCreating feeds my soul.â
The girl nodded, then shifted her gaze to a spot behind Sylvie. âMay I help you, sir?â
A prickle tickled Sylvieâs spine. She didnât need to turn her head to know it was Andrew. If she hadnât been so focused on the conversation, on the girlâs enthusiasm, sheâd have felt his presence sooner.
How long had he been standing there? she wondered. Then again, what did that matter?
âIâm with her.â He gestured with his head toward Sylvie.
She saw Coleâs gaze sharpen and his expression turn speculative. Keeping her own expression bland, Sylvie shifted and smiled at Andrew.
When he placed a hand on her shoulder, she felt the heat of his touch all the way through the thin cotton to the skin beneath. âI got caught up on a call.â
Andrew switched his focus to Cole and Amber. âAny chance we can get a couple of cappuccinos to go?â
âI believe we can manage that order.â Cole smiled at his new employee. âWould you like to make them?â
The girl hesitated momentarily, then nodded.
âJust remember.â Sensing Amberâs uncertainty, Sylvie spoke in an encouraging tone. âPractice really does make perfect.â
Amber stepped to the cappuccino machine, squared her shoulders and began to work the controls. She glanced back for a second and Sylvie shot her a wink.
When Sylvie refocused on the men, she found Cole and Andrew talking sports with an ease that surprised her. âDo you know each other?â
âI wandered in here a couple of days ago.â Andrew glanced around the shop, his gaze lingering on the yellow stars plastered on the shopâs windows. âI asked Cole about the interesting decor.â
Sylvie had noticed the bright yellow cutouts but hadnât really paid attention to them. She stepped close for a better look. Each star contained the name of a person and âPeopleâs Health Center.â
Obviously sensing her puzzlement, Cole moved to the window and plucked one of the stars. âThis name represents an individual who contributed to the clinic that will serve the medically indigent in the area,â he explained.
âIs that the building out on the highway?â Sylvie drove by the square, one-story building with the stone facade often. The place had been under construction since sheâd arrived in Jackson Hole. âI noticed it now has a big Grand Opening sign out front.â
âThe grand opening is this Saturday. There will be tours and Hill of Beans will have a beverage cart in the parking lot offering free lattes and cappuccinos.â A satisfied smile lifted Coleâs lips. âA lot of people in Jackson Hole have worked long and hard to make this clinic a reality.â
âYou said something the other day about a Dr. McGregor being instrumental,â Andrew prompted.
âMitzi McGregor is an orthopedic surgeon here in Jackson. She and her husband have been pushing for this for a while now.â Cole glanced at Sylvie. âWhen you grow up in poverty, you understand the challenges kids and adults face in obtaining even the most basic health care.â
Before more could be said, Amber returned with two âgoâ cups. âI hope you like them.â
âIâm sure we will.â Impulsively Sylvie placed a hand on the girlâs shoulder. âIâm going to have you make all my drinks in the future.â
Amber flushed, but Sylvie saw the words had pleased the girl.
She picked up her drink.
âIf you end up running short of doctors to staff the clinic, I