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Ruth grimaced as she sliced a baguette in half. “Barbara Jean didn’t bake, and I doubt that I’ll have time since I’ll have to do lunch plus make cheese. We’ve been buying stuff from a commercial bakery in Durango ever since Barbara Jean took over. But when we had Honoria in the kitchen, yes, we definitely did our own pastries. She did a carrot muffin that was one of the best things I ever tasted.”
Peaches raised an eyebrow. “What will you do now? Advertise for a new cook?”
“I’ll try that. We do lunch plus coffee breaks in the morning and afternoon. It’s a lot, but really ambitious chefs aren’t interested.”
Liam was careful not to look at Peaches. He had a feeling the next few moments would be crucial for his plans.
“But you’re looking for someone to do a full lunch plus baking pastries for the morning and afternoon?” she asked.
Ruth nodded again. “Ideally, yes. Honoria would come in around seven and get the muffins and scones going for the bed and breakfasts, along with whatever else she wanted to put in the pastry case for the morning. Then she’d do lunch. Then she’d put together the pastries for the next day along with the special desserts we had for sale in the deli case. We get a lot of traffic in the late afternoon with people grabbing things to take home for dinner. We may only do one meal a day, but running the kitchen is still a full-time job.”
“A cook and a pastry chef.” Peaches’s voice sounded faintly dreamy.
“Yep. Not an easy combination to find, unfortunately. Or at least it wasn’t the last time I looked for someone.”
Peaches gave her a considering look. “Could you wait a couple of weeks?”
Ruth frowned. “I don’t know. That depends on what happens at the end of the couple of weeks.”
“At the end of the couple of weeks, I’ll walk out of Black Mountain Tavern with a clear conscience. I can cook. You saw that today. But I’m also one hell of a baker. I mean, I could make you a peach pie or something if you’d like to see what I can do. Or brownies. I can do a great cream cheese brownie, only maybe with goat cheese if I did it here. I don’t know—I’ve never baked with goat cheese, but I’d be willing to give it a try.” Peaches’s smile was so bright that they could probably see it in Crested Butte.
Ruth looked slightly shell-shocked. “You want this job?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am. I would love this job. I haven’t baked a lick since I came here—we’ve got no decent oven at the tavern. And I was a baker when I worked in Memphis and Breckenridge. I did a little bit in Jackson Hole, too, mostly muffins and coffee cake. Oh, and I can give you my references. All except Mr. Stanton at Black Mountain. I’m guessing he won’t feel much like giving me a good reference after I quit on him. But you might want to talk to him anyway.”
“You can talk to me,” Liam cut in. “I’ve been eating Peaches’s cooking for the past six months. It’s beyond good, believe me.”
“I…okay.” Ruth leaned back against the refrigerator. Shell-shocked had given way to dazed. “There are, you know, benefits. We’re part of a restaurant medical plan—it’s small, but we have it. And you can pay into a pension plan. My business manager takes care of that. And the salary is good, or at least I think it is.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful.” Peaches was still beaming. “That’s just wonderful.”
Ruth gave her another slightly dazed look. “I mean, I can give you a formal offer in writing.”
“Oh, no, ma’am. Where I come from, handshakes count as much as writing.” Peaches extended her hand to Ruth, who took it a little tentatively, as if she were afraid Peaches might snatch it back.
“Well, that’s all right, then. I’ll tell Mr. Stanton tomorrow. I’m willing to give him the full two weeks, but I don’t know if he’ll want it. He’s got a bit of a temper.”
Stanton had more than a bit of a temper, as Liam knew only too well. If he had to guess, he’d figure on Peaches being in the kitchen at the Salty Goat within the week, which was best for everyone involved. Except possibly for Stanton.
