Miracle Pie (18 page)

“I thought your Beagle couldn’t hear,” Taz
said.

“Exactly.” She headed to the blue chair and
sat. She wore a skirt that came just above her knees, but as she
sat on the blue chair and crossed her legs, it rose up her thigh.
Gabe and Taz’s gazes went straight to her legs.

Feeling warm again, she uncrossed them and
set her feet in her bargain store black shoes firmly on the wooden
floor.

Gabe grinned at her. So did Taz. Katie
wished Rosa was in the room to stare sternly at them.

“Say something,” Taz said.

“Okay.” She remembered his sound tests.
“Should I talk about Trish and Gunner?”

“Tell us about your skirt,” Gabe said.

“My skirt?” She laughed. “It’s my church
skirt.”

“You go to church often?”

She shook her head. “Only with friends on
special occasions. My dad only goes to church on weddings or
funerals. My grandmother was pretty much the same way.”

“Your family doesn’t believe in God?”

“Sure. Well, Gram did. My dad believes
there’s something out there. Some higher power that has the secret
to everything and leaks it out a little at a time. On a
need-to-know basis.”

Taz laughed, and she relaxed. It was like
being back in her kitchen with her pies and the awareness of Gabe
thrumming through her. “He likes to say you don’t even have to be
good to catch the secrets. You just have to be paying
attention.”

“Did you ever catch it?”

“Maybe. My dad said he tastes the higher
power in my pies.”

“Amen,” Taz said.

“You have a great dad,” Gabe said.

“Sometimes I think how lucky I am, and it
fills me up.” She pressed her hand over her breastbone. “I have a
great dad, a great dog, great friends. And I make pies for a
living. I’m blessed. That’s why I want to do this for Trish and
Gunner. I think if you are as blessed as I am, you need to share it
or it will go away.”

“I know a lot of nasty rich people,” Taz
said, “and their money just seems to multiply.”

“In this life it multiplies.” She scrunched
her face. “You don’t want to know what’s going to happen to them in
the next go-round.”

Both men laughed, and she grinned. “When are
we going to start?” she asked.

“You just did,” Gabe said, then he and Taz
laughed again at her dropped jaw.

She clamped her mouth shut. “That’s not
funny. You can start asking me questions now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Gabe nodded at her. “Tell us
who you are and what you do.”

“I’m Katie Guthrie,” she said, glad that he
wasn’t using what she said already, “and I make pies for a
living.”

“I understand this was your idea.”

She was shaking her head before he finished.
“Rosa is the evil genius behind this. It was my idea to raffle off
pies, and I thought other villagers might join me to help Trish and
Gunner. I went to Rosa first. She thought of doing the videos, then
she ran with it.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“Yes. The whole village is excited and happy
to help our friends. This is a big thing.”

“A miracle was prophesied last spring. Do
you think this fundraiser is the miracle?”

“I think this is something people should be
willing to do for each other.”

“Do you believe in miracles?”

She looked him in his eyes, and for a
second, it felt as if it were just him and her. No Taz, no camera,
no boom. Just him, just her. Rays of light circling them, so bright
they blocked off anyone else.

“Yes. And I believe in angels, too.”

He stared at her for a long moment, dead
silence in the room. “That’s it,” he said finally.

Taz pulled the boom away from above her. She
got up silently then ran her hands down her hips and upper thighs,
smoothing wrinkles from her skirt. Then she nodded and walked out,
feeling their gazes on her, the air charged with electricity.

Chapter Thirty-one

Katie left but the current stayed, humming
through Gabe for the rest of the day. He and Taz shortened the
process but only finished twenty interviews before they stopped at
four o’clock. The last subject was an attractive college student
who’d come home for the day to do this because Trish had been her
babysitter when she was young. She said she loved Trish and wanted
the best for her. When Gabe asked her what else she loved, she
said, “Coldplay.”

Immediately Taz said, “Me, too!”

Apparently the appreciation for the same
band had formed an instant bond, as she and Taz left with their
arms wrapped around each other’s waists.

Taking longer to pack up, Gabe wondered what
band Katie liked. What music she listened to in the early morning
as she made her pies. Did she hum along? Her hips swaying? Or—

Footsteps on the wooden floor brought his
eyes to Rosa. She wore a red top and black slacks, and probably
every man who came into Mo’s to eat tonight, from thirteen to
ninety, would check her out before the menu. She had the old-time
stripper figure that even gay men appreciated.

Katie didn’t have that. She had something
else that Gabe couldn’t define. Something that pulled him to her as
if she were a giant magnet and he a small nail.

“Everyone came out of your interview
smiling.” Rosa bestowed upon him an approving nod. “You’re
good.”

“I try.”

“You don’t try, you
do
. I know you
said the first fifty, but I’d like to—”

“No.”

She put her hands on her hips. “You’re not
listening to what I have to say.”

“If you want me to do more than fifty,
you’ll have to pay me more.”

“This is for charity.”

“I’m charging half my usual rate.”

“Someone else might have done it for
free.”

“Then you should’ve asked someone else.”

“Trish and Gunner need help
now
. I
don’t have time to vet filmmakers.”

He shrugged. “I’m here. I’m good. You’re
lucky to have me.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What if Katie
agreed to go out with you? Would that change your mind?”

He stilled. “Exactly what are you
suggesting?”

“I said
out
with you. Nothing more.”
She put a hand to the side of her head, pushing up her dark hair.
“Why does everyone think I’m pimping out Katie?”

“Listen to what you say.” He packed up the
rest of his equipment. “You have thirty more appointments. If
someone is important, you can stick them in there.”

“You were much nicer the last time you were
here.”

Looking at the frustration on her face, he
shook his head. “You’re a crazy woman.”

“I don’t think I’m asking too much.”

“Five extra interviews. That’s it.”

“Ten.”

He picked up his lighting and camera
equipment. “Five or none.”

Her nostrils pinched and her jaw set. “Okay,
five.” She turned to leave.

“Don’t forget to say thank you.”

With a laugh, she glanced back at him. “Have
dinner here. It’s on me. Be here in an hour.”

He watched her leave and wondered what she
was planning.

***

“Come to Mo’s for dinner tonight at six,”
Rosa said.

“I have leftovers.” Katie looked at the
pecan-apple pie on the counter. Her Happy Pie. There had been
moments of happiness during the day. A breathless delight when she
was interviewed by Gabe. The sense of being 100% alive, with all
her cells sparking, her emotions dancing.

But now she was home and that flush of
emotion had washed away, leaving her feeling like a kid after a
ride on the giant roller coaster, sad because none of the other
rides would be half as thrilling.

“I talked Mo into putting my lasagna on his
menu,” Rosa said. “All those years we had to eat Mike’s
old-fashioned lasagna. Mine is healthier and better. It has squash
and spinach, and you will die for it.”

“I don’t want to die.”

“Then you’ll live for it. You’ll want to eat
it every day for a week. After that, you’ll just want to eat it one
day a week.”

“Another time I’d love to come, but I’ve
been up since three this morning. I have a good book to read, and
I’ll probably go to bed early.”

“I need you. Not enough people are ordering
my lasagna. They read
squash
and
spinach
and think
it’s health food. No one in Miracle wants to eat health food. You
can eat my lasagna and tell everyone how good it is.”

“Why not have your boys do it?”

“They’re my sons. People won’t believe them.
I have a surprise guest coming, too. You won’t want to miss this
guest.”

“You’re not going to tell me who it is, are
you?”

“Nope.”

“It’s not Gabe, is it?”

“I’m not a matchmaker, if that’s what you’re
thinking. You should know that right now I’m not a fan of any
matches.”

“Okay, I’m sorry for my suspicions.” And a
little sorry it wasn’t Gabe, she admitted to herself. “I’ll come.
I’ll eat. I’ll enjoy. I’ll rave. I’ll talk to your surprise guest.”
Trish, Katie thought. It would feel like old times sitting across a
table from Trish and talking about anything and everything. “Will
that make you happy?”

“Be there at six. I’ll reserve a table in
your name.” Rosa hung up.

Katie stood, still holding the phone. When
the phone rang, she’d half expected to hear Gabe on the other end.
After all, he was the reason she’d baked her Happy Pie.

She could call him. He would come. She knew
it.

But in the end it would be a booty call.

She set down the phone. It wasn’t sex she
wanted from Gabe. It was to gaze into his blue eyes and see them
sparkle at her.

It was to admire his smile with the dimple
lines.

It was to just breathe the same air as him.
To talk to him with that electricity zigzagging between them, as if
Thor was in heaven, looking down at them and throwing
thunderbolts.

With a shiver she crossed her arms. Her
kitchen had always been her calm center. Her safe place. But lately
she never knew what might happen anywhere. Even here.

It could be something wonderful...or
something terrible.

Right now, both choices scared her.

Needing to move, to do
something
, she
turned to her pantry and pulled out the flour, sugar, vanilla,
cinnamon. Then she crossed to the refrigerator and pulled out
butter and cream. She slid open the overlarge fruit drawer. And
just stared into it. For the first time in her life, not knowing
what pie to make.

Chapter Thirty-two

Gabe had expected Mo’s Place to be nearly
empty, people relieved to be back in their comfortable and quiet
homes. Instead it was crowded, the noise level high with
punctuations of laughter. The air shimmered with expectation.

Gabe suspected they were waiting for their
miracle.

Good luck to them. He’d had his miracle at a
young age and wasn’t expecting to get struck with a miracle twice.
For tonight, he only expected a good meal.

He swept his gaze around the room, searching
for Rosa. Past the bar area with the booths on the sides and in
front of the long window then into the dining area—

His gaze stopped.

His heart stopped.

One beat. The next beat his heart thumped to
life. Stronger than before. Energy pumped into it. Pumped into
every cell of his body.

In the far corner Katie sat at a table for
two. He strode toward her. Someone called his name. He nodded,
waved and kept walking.

As if she felt his intensity, she looked up
and her mouth opened in an O. And her face...it softened the way a
mother’s did when her child walked in. The way a child’s did,
spotting a puppy.

He sat across from her. He wasn’t her puppy,
but he wouldn’t mind being her man.

While he was here.

The thought saddened him, and her eyebrows
indented in a slight frown. “Rosa said she had a surprise guest
coming and our dinner was on her. She told me it wasn’t you. I
thought it was going to be Trish.”

“Disappointed?”

Her forehead smoothed and she shook her
head. “I don’t disappoint easy.”

He nodded. It made sense. When someone lived
the first five years of their life with an addict who liked you
best when you hardly spoke, it didn’t give you high expectations of
life.

No wonder she lived in her dead
grandmother’s house and was content to make pies. No wonder she was
content with her dog, her father and her friends. Miracle was her
safe place. A place that allowed her to thrive.

“What about you?” she asked.

It took him a second to remember he’d asked
if she was disappointed. Her hand was on the table, and he covered
it with his.

She glanced up, her eyes startled. “By the
end of the night, nearly everyone in Miracle will be talking about
this.”

“Everyone?”

“Pretty much.”

“Including your dad?”

Her lips twisted in a smile. “Oh, he’ll
know.”

He smiled back. As if this were a game. And
it was. A very old game. “Does he have a shotgun?”

“This is hunting country. In Miracle,
shotguns and rifles are part of the male rite of passage. Though
quite a few women hunt, too.” She leaned toward him, and he leaned
toward her. “But he won’t use it on you.”

“Good to know.”

“I hoped it would be.”

Her smile widened, and it was like the sun
shining from her to him. Tension slowly eased out of his tightened
muscles like toxins leaking out of a room.

Rosa stopped in front of them. He hadn’t
noticed her coming. “Dinner’s on me,” she said.

“Lobster?” Sitting back, he lifted an
eyebrow.

“Go out and catch one. I’ll throw it in a
pot for you myself.”

“Are you matchmaking?” he asked.

Katie pulled her hand from beneath his. He
slid his back to his end of the table. Not out of the game yet.

“I’m not a big believer in making matches.”
Rosa shrugged, her breasts following the movements of her
shoulders.