Chapter 10 - Let It Simmer

Gustave was just finishing up his preparations for the inevitable - and always exciting - lunch rush the following day when he saw a very familiar face take a seat at the bar. It wasn't one of the workers from the oil operation, nor was it one of the many ladies who stopped by for a chamomile bubbly and the latest bit of gossip.

No. This patron was a lady of the much younger variety, and her usually cheerful disposition was replaced with a cloud of contemplation.

"Why, Mademoiselle Allie," Gustave said as he wiped his hands on a white bar towel. "You are the last person I would have expected to find at my bar. What brings you in today, hmm? Do not tell me that you are looking for something to drink that will, what is the phrase? Wash away your sorrows?"

Allie's brow furrowed, though it was accompanied by the glimmer of that wry grin as she answered him.

"What makes you think I'm sad?" she asked.

He rested his elbows on the shimmering bar and fixed a no-nonsense look at her.

"Mademoiselle, there are two things that I can spot in an instant in this world. One of those things is true love. The other one is a troubled heart. Now, if I were to harken a guess, I'd say that you, my little spitfire, are dealing with both at the same time."

Allie responded exactly as Gustave expected. She sighed and rested her cheek in one hand while the other one plopped across the counter in front of her.

"I guess you could read it all over my face," she muttered, looking off to the side. "I was hoping I could fake it until I made it, but if you can tell I'm lost in my own head, then everyone must know."

He smiled, patting her hand gently.

"There is no shame in being lost in one's own head, Allie," he reassured her. "It is what the English call 'mulling things over'. The good thing about it is that you can take as long or as short a time to do this mulling as you please, and it is nobody's business but your own. Now, my business," he continued, taking a glass from the row of them to his right, "is to help ease these sorts of afflictions with food and drink so that they work themselves out with as little fuss as possible. I suppose you can say that food and drink are sometimes the best medicine, and I have the great fortune of being the one who prescribes them. So, what will it be for you this afternoon, Mademoiselle? I happen to remember that you loved a particular blackberry fizz of mine a few days ago. Perchance you would like to enjoy one of those while we mull things over together?"

Allie's smile brightened.

"I'd like that very much, Gustave."

He winked at her and set to work preparing her drink. Within moments the tall glass was filled with a multi-layered mixture of juice, sparkling soda water, and topped with three ripe blackberries. Allie took the glass eagerly, her spirits lifting.

"Thank-you," she said before taking a sip.

"You are welcome any time," Gustave said. "Now, since you are all settled in, why don't you tell me why you've come to my bar today."

"Does there have to be a reason?" Allie replied, her trademark mischievous expression appearing. "What if I just came in to get one of these drinks?"

Gustave's brows lowered so much that they almost became a solid line above his eyes.

"Did I not just go on talking about how I can read a person just like that?" He snapped his fingers. "People do not simply sit at the bar to have a drink. They do so because they have something they need to say, and they are hoping that someone will be able to listen. So, out with it. What has been brewing in that head of yours?"

It was just enough to get Allie to open up. She rolled her eyes partially, setting down her drink.

"I have a problem," she started. "Only…it's not a bad problem. It's a problem I love, more than anything else in the world."

"Let me guess. This 'problem' has something to do with your dear Uncle Nathan?"

"Exactly."

He couldn't help but smile at this. The young lady certainly had a fiery personality. She never minced words or shied away from speaking the truth. Allie wore her heart on her sleeve, and that was one of the things that Gustave appreciated from the moment she walked into the Queen of Hearts dining room. Hers was a genuine spirit, and no matter how she tried, it was impossible to put on a fake face and pretend that everything was alright when clearly it was not.

If it were any of the other children, Gustave was sure that they would have pretended to be fine, burying their feelings until they blended back into the bunch. But, not so with Allie. When she needed to talk, she talked. And when she needed advice, she sought it out.

"What has your stoic Uncle done this time?" Gustave asked. "Has he told you that you cannot do something that you desperately want to do?"

"No," said Allie, her shoulders slumping. "It's the opposite. He told me I could do something, which is just as bad. I asked him if I could have Robert over for dinner."

"Ah, a date!" Gustave clapped his hands. "You have been hoping for this for a while now! Why then are you so glum? Should you not be excited?"

"Oh, I am," she said. "Really. I'm more than excited to have Robert over for dinner. It's just…I'm not excited trying to figure out what we're actually going to eat. Uncle Nathan is not a good cook, and if I'm being honest with you, neither am I."

Gustave put on an exaggerated expression of shock.

"You mean to tell me that you and your Uncle patronize my restaurant and Abigail's Cafe out of helplessness? And here I was thinking that all this time you were simply supporting local establishments! No, this will not do at all."

"No," Allie agreed. "So, if you're still wondering why I'm lost in my own head, it's because I'm terrified that we're going to be serving Robert burnt chicken for dinner. It's Uncle Nathan's specialty."

This got a laugh out of Gustave. More of that fiery wit.

He brought a finger to his lips.

"When is this dinner for you and your sweetheart?"

"Tonight," she sighed. "I already tried looking at the mercantile for things I could cook, but there isn't much. I don't want it to be simple. The only thing I can think of to make is sandwiches, but we have those all the time. It took me so long to get Uncle Nathan to say yes to me seeing Robert that I want to make a great impression. I mean…you never get another 'first dinner' together."

"Truer words have never been spoken," said Gustave. "And I can see from your expression that you are filled with passion! That is something that you must never lose. I am sure that Robert will see that passion, no matter what you serve him for dinner. It must also be said that this little…conundrum…is not the end of the world."

Allie lifted her head up higher, looking at him expectantly. "It's not?"

"No! It is a grand challenge in the game of love, Mademoiselle! Did your Uncle not tell you that love is never easy? You need to fight for it! Tame it! Show it that you are the master, and that you will settle for nothing less! Embrace this challenge, Allie, and don't be discouraged. You are never alone in this fight. After all, you have me, and many other people in this town who care about you - and most importantly today, they care about what you are going to serve for your love at dinner tonight. We will work this out together."

Her smile returned.

"Thank-you, Gustave," she said.

"My question for you is, why have you come to me when there is a veritable flock of capable young ladies next door who could have taught you how to do a pot pie or bake bread?"

Allie took another sip of her drink before answering.

"No offense to Clara and Minnie, but their food isn't going to cut it. If I'm being honest, I want something magical. Something like you made for Lucas when he had dinner with Miss Thornton."

It was Gustave's turn to grin.

"How did you know about that private affair?" he asked.

Her expression said it all, but still she told him. "Come on, Gustave. Word travels fast in Hope Valley."

"Yes," he muttered. "Almost as fast as the industry… Something like I made for Mademoiselle Thornton? Hmm. That was a very grand gesture, you know. I had to work all day for such a meal - and the clean up?" He threw his hands in the air. "It is a good thing that Monsieur Bouchard pays me well! Allie, are you sure that you want something so grand? Forgive me for questioning your desires, but I will not steer you wrong. Not even for appearances. Let me tell you my reasoning for asking. If you start off so elaborately, and you cannot keep up the same standard moving forward…well. Then you risk being disappointed later on! Are you prepared for that?"

"That's the thing!" Allie said. "I'm not prepared for anything. I feel like I'm doomed to settle for burned chicken and wilted salad. Can't you just make me something?"
Gustave brought a finger to his lips, tapping it a few times.

"I could make you something," he mused. "Or…I could give you something that I know you are more than capable of making on your own."

Allie rolled her eyes.

"If it requires a stove, then I don't think that I can handle it," she said. "Everything I try to cook ends up being in the pan too long, so it gets burned. I kinda take after Uncle Nathan when it comes to that." She gave a halfhearted smile.

"Then how about something that doesn't burn when it stays on the stove too long?" suggested Gustave. Allie's eyes flicked up to watch him. "What about something that can only get better and better the longer it stays over the heat?"

Allie folded her hands on the counter, leaning forward like someone listening intently to a grand speech.

"What kind of thing gets better and better the longer it cooks?" she asked.

Gustave whipped out his clipboard and slid it in front of her. He pointed to one menu item, written in his flowing script.

"Beef stew," he said, watching the way that the young girl's eyes widened at the suggestion. "It is very simple, really," he went on. "You can chop vegetables, no?"

"I can."

"You can season tiny cubes of beef?"

"Yes."

"Then you can make beef stew! It is one of my specialties. A hearty stew is savory, yet filling. Comfortable. It makes you feel like you are home, which is exactly how you want Robert to feel on the first time he eats a meal with you and your Uncle. I think it is a grand idea - and it gives me a reason to start early preparations for my own batch of stew."

The idea seemed to be catching on with Allie. She got that far-off look, contemplating. Her head nodded a few times.

"Beef stew…" she said, her lips curling as the words left them. With that indomitable smile. Gustave knew he had found a winner. "I like that idea, Gustave! It's perfect! And all I have to do is put the ingredients in a pot and let it go."

"Exactly right," said Gustave, jabbing a finger at her. "Simple! Effective. The trick is to let it simmer. It is much like love, no? The longer it simmers, the stronger and more flavourful it becomes. And most importantly, a good stew is the way to a man's heart. I have seen Monsieur Robert come in quite a few times, and, let me just say, the boy can eat a meal like it's nobody's business. With my famous beef stew recipe, Robert is sure to have not just one helping, but three. Mark my words! Let me round up the ingredients for you."

Allie was practically beaming.

"Thank-you, Gustave!" she said.

"Any time, Mademoiselle," he replied. He was just about to begin setting some potatoes and carrots into a covered basket for Allie when a commotion sounded right outside the saloon. It was faint at first, but within moments Gustave could make out the unmistakable sound of an argument. He glanced at Allie, one eyebrow raised. "Could this be another display of passion?" he asked.

"I don't know," said Allie, finishing off her drink before getting to her feet. "But, I never miss out on a good fight."

"Me neither," said Gustave. "Let's have a look."

When they were out on the boardwalk, the two of them saw that a small crowd had formed next to what appeared to be a very expensive, and very flashy, photography setup. There was the camera, of course, set atop a tripod. There was a heavy-set photographer, complete with a bald head and a fancy tweet suit, standing beside the camera. Then there was the display in front of the camera.

A nice, dark sheet of felt was strung up between two posts. Beneath the backdrop was a wooden stand for the subject of the photo to pose on. It did not take long for Gustave to note that it was the subject - or in this case, subjects - of the photograph who were causing all the commotion.

"Monsieur Colter!" said Gustave, spotting the well-dressed man in an instant. "What, may I ask, is all the shouting about?"

Lee Coulter looked exhausted as he turned to Gustave and Allie. He ran a hand against his hair to push some stray locks back into place. Standing beside him was his wife, Rosemary, who looked just as frazzled. Clearly she was trying to calm him down, yet Lee's face was still red.

"I'm sorry -" said Lee, catching his breath after his previous outburst. "I'm sorry, Gustave. I didn't mean to shout. It's just that -"

"Just that what?" Gustave interrupted. "I did not think that having a photograph taken required such volume. You are going to scare away all of my customers! Is there some problem with the equipment?"

"No," said Lee, shaking his head. "There's no problem with the equipment."

Gustave raised his eyebrows.

"Then what is the problem that has you sputtering like a flooded engine?"

Lee went to open his mouth, but no words came out. He gave a resigned sigh. Since her husband was speechless, Rosemary stepped up to the plate.

"Forgive the outburst, Gustave," she said. "But, we're dealing…not so much with a problem as we are a 'fashion faux pas'." Her lips pressed together into a thin line as she motioned to her left. "It appears that Bill Avery is wearing the same exact jacket that Lee is wearing!"

People in the crowd gasped and a few of them even chuckled as Bill Avery stepped out from behind some well-meaning supporters. Rosemary spoke the truth. Bill was indeed wearing the same exact jacket that Lee had on, and, if Gustave had to admit, it was difficult to decide who was wearing it better.

Lee jabbed a finger at Bill, stuttering.

"Where in the world did you get that jacket?" he demanded. "Do you have someone spying on my mayoral campaign?"

Bill couldn't hide the amusement from his face. He spread his arms out, welcoming everyone's gaze.

"Spies?" he said, chuckling. "Hardly. I've been planning on wearing this jacket for my photograph for weeks. I'm the Sheriff! Do you think that I would stoop so low as to hire spies to figure out what my competition is wearing? No." He gripped both edges of his jacket collar and straightened them out. "I simply put on the nicest thing I owned."

"Which just happens to be the very same jacket that I decided to wear?"

Bill shrugged.

"I've had this jacket in my closet for years now," he said. "All I had to do was dust it off a bit. A classic never goes out of style."

"True," said Allie, causing Lee to groan once more. Rosemary tried to console him.

"Lee, what does it matter if you two are wearing the same jacket for your campaign photos?" she said. "The people of Hope Valley aren't voting for a jacket. They're voting for a leader!" This got a few cheers from their neighbors in the group. Rosemary added quickly in a hushed voice, "Though, that being said, I can always run back and grab the alternate color if you want."

"No," said Lee, simmering down. "This is fine. It's going to be fine! I was talked into this jacket, and you worked all morning on it with Clara, so this is what I will wear. I'm not going to settle for less."

Rosemary rubbed his arm lightly, giving him a sympathetic look. Gustave stepped up to the plate, deciding to add his own two cents to the dilemma.

"You're absolutely right," he said, catching everyone's attention. "You should never settle for less, when greatness is within reach! Clothes make the man, is that not what they say? And if I may say something, I'll say that you two are an even match. I can hardly tell who is wearing that jacket better. This bodes well for a great election season."

The encouragement seemed to embolden both candidates. Lee's look of frustration was replaced with his usual friendliness, and Bill returned the smile, walking towards Lee with his hand outstretched.

"To a good campaign," he said.

Lee looked at the hand, sighing. Then he returned the shake.

"Exactly," he said.

A flash went off. Turning, the crowd saw that the photographer had taken a picture in the heat of the moment. He came up from beneath his fabric covering with a shake of his fist.

"Wonderful!" he said. "That was pure gold! I love a good candid photo. I can tell that this is going to be an exciting election! Bravo!"

The crowd began to cheer and surround the two candidates, who were now focused on basking in the attention rather than arguing over their matching jackets.

Allie glanced up at Gustave, shrugging.

"I guess the solution was that simple," she said.

"Simple is always best," Gustave agreed. "Now, what do you say we work on the simple solution to your dinner with Robert, yes? Come with me!"