Calvin hardly ever makes desserts. Says fresh fruits are better for us. Wonât let us eat white bread, either.â
âHeâs right about that,â I said. âBut Iâm guessing he didnât have the time to do much baking if he had other work to do.â
âMaybe so,â Bull admitted. âI kept telling him he should just stay here and cook. He said it would be too boring.â
Calvin was probably right about that too. Still, a man who required three stents to unclog his coronary arteries probably hadnât had much energy of late. Of course, sitting around doing nothing might have made them clog up faster. I had a feeling that spending all day cooking and tasting would pack even more pounds on my hips. Ophelia and I were going to have to go for lots of walks.
Bull gazed longingly at the pie. âDonât suppose we could have some of that now, could we?â
âHelp yourself. Just make sure you leave some for the other guys.â
âIâll only eat a small piece,â Bull promised, crossing his heart.
I glanced at Wyatt. âWhat about you? Are you hungry? Or would you rather wait until dinner?â
As exhausted as both men were bound to be, my first choice wouldâve been a nap. Clearly these guys were made of sterner stuff.
âIâll save the pie for after dinner,â Wyatt said. âRight now, Iâd kill for a grilled cheese sandwich.â
Of all the things I wouldâve expected a man like Wyatt to ask for, grilled cheese wasnât among them. Then again, as a comfort food, grilled cheese was tough to beat. âNo problem. Have a seat. Want something to drink? I made some fresh tea.â
âSounds good.â He took off his hat and sat down. Rather than sagging with exhaustion, his shoulders seemed sort of stiff, like he needed a massage more than a sandwich.
Had he ever had someone to rub his back after a hard day? Would he even want that? God knew I would never askâor offer.
Just fix him a sandwich, Tina.
That much I could do. While the skillet was heating up, I poured them each a glass of tea. As I set the tea in front of them, I eyed the pie askance, noting that a full quarter of it was missing. âSmall piece, huh?â
âCouldnât help it,â Bull declared as he scooped up another forkful. âThis is the best thing I ever ate in my life.â
âI doubt that,â I said dryly. âYou know what they say about hunger being the best sauce.â
âHe couldnât be that hungry,â Wyatt said. âItâs not like we havenât eaten since we left here last night.â
âYeah, but we didnât stop for lunch,â Bull reminded him. âIâm not used to missing meals.â
âI take it youâd also like a sandwich?â
His fork clattered on the empty plate. âUmm⦠could you make that two?â
I glanced at Wyatt. âWhat about you. Is one enough?â
To my surprise, he winked. âYeah. But I think Iâd better have a piece of that pie before it disappears.â
âGuess I shouldâve made two pies. Iâll know better next time.â No wonder Calvin seldom bothered to make dessert. If he had, he wouldnât have had time to do anything else.
I, on the other hand, had time to spare. I even had time to make another pie before dinner.
I could get used to this.
I gave Wyatt a plate and fork before returning to the stove. As I buttered slices of bread and put them in the skillet, I realized I had time to make homemade bread, pots of soup that cooked all day, and any other time-consuming recipe that came to mind. Calvin probably felt rushed no matter what he fixed.
While the sandwiches were grilling, I took the opportunity to pick their brains a little. âI didnât get much of an orientation to this job. What do you guys like besides grilled cheese and apple pie?â
âAre you kidding?â Bull said.