Page 42 of Finding Zara


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Chuckling, Matt stepped behind me, brought his arms around me and took most of the weight of the jackhammer, showing me how to use it. It was hard to concentrate with his hard body pressed against me from behind. “You got it?”

I cleared my suddenly inexplicably-dry throat. “Yeah, I think so.”

Once Matt left me to it and I wasn’t distracted by the various images flickering through my mind of me, Matt, and the hood of his car, I found I was a quick study, getting through a small section in no time, which surprised me. I couldn’t do much more than that, though, and was grateful when Gabe announced it was his turn. Looking around for my coffee, I heard Ally say to Matt admiringly, “She picked that up in no time.”

“She did. She’s got a good head for that sort of thing.”

“That’s because she threw herself into it. Nothing’s ever half-assed with that girl. It’s her whole ass or nothing at all.” She waited a beat; I knew the punchline was coming. “And such a fine ass it is.”

“Humph,” I heard Matt reply, and I grinned to myself.

Deciding to let him off the hook, I sang out, “I can hear you, Ally.” Retrieving the coffee I’d left on the wall, I joined them where they were standing, far enough away from the jackhammer not to be bothered by the noise.

“What? I’m just stating the obvious.” Her eyes were dancing mischievously.

“I have no comment,” Matt said, when Ally looked at him pointedly.

She laughed outright. “Wise decision.”

“Well, ladies, I think it’s time we hauled some concrete,” Gabe put in.

It was back-breaking work. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d pushed my body so hard, and I was more than a little relieved when Gabe said, “We’re about two thirds of the way through and it’s not quite noon. We’re making great time, gang.”

“Great, because I’ve got another job to do. Zara, you wanna lend me a hand? You too, Emma and Lucy, if you like? We can leave the guys to kill themselves.”

“Sure, okay.”

“What are we doing?” I asked.

“It’s a surprise.” Intrigued, we followed Ally into the guest house.

“Right, Zara, you’re on pastry duty, Emma and Lucy, you can cut the potatoes.” Ally handed Emma a chopping board, knife and a bag of potatoes. “At the table is probably best. There’s not much space in here.”

“Oooh, fun! Cooking with two professionals. How do you want them cut?”

Ally took an air fryer out of a bag on the floor next to the door, placed it on the counter and plugged it in. “In wedges, please, Emma. We’ll oil and season them, then they go in here.”

“Jesus, Al, did you bring half your kitchen?” I went to the bags, pulling out pie tins, bowls, a salad spinner, a jug, various assorted utensils and towels.

Ally grinned. “Pretty much, since we’d packed up all of Ruby’s stuff. I wasn’t sure how much you were planning on setting up in the main kitchen. Get cracking, Munro, we’re on a tight schedule. Flour’s there, butter’s in the cooler bag.”

I collected what I needed and moved to the counter. Watching Ally place two trays of ground meat, an onion, garlic and herbs on the chopping board, I said, “We’re making pot pies, then?” At Ally’s nod, I measured flour into the bowl, added some butter, and started rubbing it into the flour.

A companiable quiet fell over us as we settled in to work. Another first, I thought, shaking the bowl to check for lumps of butter. Girlfriends. Not that I knew Lucy or Emma that well, but I liked both of them a lot. Under different circumstances, where I could remain in Ruby’s house instead of selling it, I could easily see us all being friends. Catching up like this all the time over kitchen work. That would definitely be enough to make me fall in love with cooking again.

Biting back a sigh, I added water to the flour mixture and stirred it with a wooden spoon. The reality was I was selling Ruby’s house and leaving Esperance, because one thing was absolutely certain: I couldn’t live in Esperance after selling. It would hurt too much to see it all the time, knowing that someone else was living in it. Loving it. Pushing my sad thoughts aside, I sprinkled flour on the counter next to Ally, kneading the dough while Ally chopped the onion and garlic. When she slid it into the heated pan, it made a satisfying sizzle, the aroma instantly filling the small guest house.

“Wow, Ally, that smells amazing.” Emma said, coming to watch us both cook. I sprinkled more flour on the counter, rolled the dough out, turned it, rolled it again. “And that looks like pure alchemy. It makes you wonder who figured out that combining flour, butter and water would make something so delicious.”

I laughed. “It’s like that with most cooking for me. You wonder how any of it came about.” I wrapped the pastry in plastic wrap and put it in the freezer. “Just going to let this sit for a little while.”

“Good. Now you can cut up the vegetables for the salad,” Ally directed.

“Yes, chef!”

Ally’s eyes sparkled. “That’s what I like to hear! Emma, if the potatoes are ready, bring them here and we’ll season them.”

“Yes, chef!” Emma echoed, grinning as she brought the wedges to the counter. I smiled at Emma’s look of utter concentration as Ally showed her how to prepare the wedges and put them in the air fryer. She watched as I chopped the salad vegetables at lightning speed. “I could watch you do that all day. Does that sound weird?”

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