Following the aroma of bacon frying, Sean pushed through the café doors that led to a large country kitchen. The kitchen looked like a vintage painting from a farm house built hundreds of years ago. Everything from the wood-burning oven to the large butcher-block table seemed to belong to a time long past.
The only exceptions were a large stainless-steel side-by-side refrigerator/freezer unit, resting in one corner of the room, and a large capacity dishwasher next to the sink. The stainless-steel finishes were buffed to a brilliant shine, just like everything else in the kitchen. The old oak floors and the knotty-pine cabinetry were spotless and finished with a high-luster varnish.
There were two black cast-iron skillets sitting on the stove with bacon crisping nicely in one and over-easy eggs frying in the other. Since no one else was in the kitchen at that moment, and Sean was practically drooling over the wonderful smell of bacon cooking, he reached for one of the bacon strips.
“And didn’t I tell Da we might have a scallywag among us? Stealing the bacon, the moment a poor girl’s back is turned.”
Sean was startled by the voice from behind him and quickly pulled his hand back from the frying pan. He turned to see who’d entered the kitchen behind him and saw a lovely young woman walking toward him.
“Sorry,” he stammered. “It smelled so wonderful I couldn’t resist.”
She walked past him, frowning tolerantly, as she took up her position in front of the stove. She deftly grabbed a strip of bacon out of the pan with her tongs and set it on a napkin.
“If you’re that bad off, then you’d best have a strip before you faint away right before my eyes,” she said, letting a smile touch the corners of her mouth.
“Thanks,” he said, taking the bacon she offered to him. “I can’t remember the last time I was this hungry.”
“I suppose trying to run your car over a fallen tree gives a man a healthy appetite,” She said, turning back to the stove.
“So it seems,” he agreed, munching on his bacon strip.
He watched her for a moment, while she pulled the eggs out of the pan and onto a serving plate. By the look of her, Sean guessed she was in her mid-twenties. She had thick, shoulder-length, auburn hair and vivid, sparkling green eyes. Her complexion was peaches and cream, and her long, curvaceous figure was outstanding — curves in all the right places. This woman was a classic Irish beauty, except for her unusual height. She had to be nearly six-feet tall.
“Seen enough or would you like me to strike a couple of other poses as long as you’re ogling me,” she asked calmly.
Sean felt a blush burn up his neck and flush his cheeks as he quickly looked away. He seemed to be getting off to a very bad start with this woman.
“I didn’t mean to stare, ma’am. I just…I guess I’m just not myself this morning,” he stammered.
“Ma’am, is it? I don’t look a day older than you, and my name is Ashling, Ashling Cahir. And I know you’re Sean Quinn, a fine Irish name, or so says your driver’s license,” she said, stepping toward him and offering her hand.
“Yes, I’m Sean Quinn and it’s a pleasure to meet you, Ashling. So you are Irish. I thought you might be after listening to your lovely accent.”
She smiled as they shook hands. “Oh yes, we’re Irish through and through, although our accent has faded a bit since we’ve been gone from the homeland for so many years.”
“So you were born in Ireland. When did you immigrate to the United States?”
“It seems like two lifetimes ago,” she replied wistfully.
For a moment Sean saw what appeared to be sadness or longing in her eyes. It was there and then gone so quickly he couldn’t be sure he’d seen it at all.
“Do you still miss Ireland so much?”
“I do indeed. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve grown to love our little piece of heaven on earth here on the Oregon Coast. In many ways it reminds me of home.”
Sean wanted to ask more questions, but the café doors opened behind him and Eamon strolled into the kitchen.
“I see you’ve been given a taste of my dear daughter’s cooking,” Eamon said, as he stood next to Sean and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Believe me; you have no idea how fortunate you are. Ashling has been known to inflict serious bodily harm on those caught sneaking a wee taste from her kitchen.”
“Go on with you, Da. You’ll be having our injured guest believing I’m a dangerous woman to be around,” Ashling said.
“That you are but well worth the risk, since you’re also an extraordinarily lovely lass and the finest cook that ever graced a kitchen.”
“Enough of the blarney,” she said, smiling and kissing her father’s cheek. You two go sit at the table and I’ll bring your breakfast to you.”
When they were seated around the table, Sean went to work on the bacon, eggs and golden hash browns like a man who’d missed his last few meals. He couldn’t believe how hungry he was and how delicious the simple, well-prepared food was.
“Are you sure the man wasn’t lost alongside the road for days before he tried to run into your furniture store, Da? He’s eating like he hasn’t seen food for a week or more,” Ashling said.
“And what’s wrong with a young man with a hearty appetite, Ashling?” her father said. “I’m sure he’s a hard-working fella and needs to keep his strength up.”
“He’d better be hard working with an appetite like that or he’ll soon be as big as our house,” Ashling said.
Sean felt his cheeks redden for
