Page 21 of Burke (The Haven #2)

“And yet I can envision that you would be plagued with doubts, worried that everybody didn’t like it, and that you should have cooked something else.”

She frowned, then burst out laughing. “Unfortunately that is very true.”

“And that’s because you care.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean that Dwight doesn’t care,” she clarified, as she stepped into the main house. At that, several of the men turned and looked at her, and she flushed. “I was just…”

Dwight looked at her and interjected, “I do care, though I’m not sure what that conversation was about. Sometimes I think I care too much.”

She gave him a big smile, then walked over and, on impulse, hugged the older man.

“I was talking about the problems that come with being a project manager, and the stress that was involved in trying to push people to do things they either weren’t capable of doing because the deadlines were impossibly tight, or when they had no intention of listening to me because of personality conflicts or God-only-knows what,” she explained, raising her hands.

“So, I used you as an example, saying that your work here in this kitchen is nice in a way because you put a meal on the table and people either eat it or they don’t. ”

Burke continued that recap. “And that’s when I stepped in to say that it wouldn’t be like that for her because she would still be worried that she’d cooked the wrong thing or that she should have done better.”

Toby smiled. “And you’re both right,” he noted.

“It is nice to have a job where you can just do something and step back with the attitude that, if somebody doesn’t like it, it’s too damn bad.

However, like Shirley, if people didn’t like it, I would feel the need to change the menu so people would want to eat more. ”

“And then I would step in and tell him not to because the last freaking thing we need around here is people eating more,” Timber declared with a huge grin, obviously joking.

The men started laughing, razzing him about worrying about his bottom line.

Timber nodded. “And, of course, I’m kidding because I really want everybody here to eat well so you can keep working.” That set off a new round of laughter, the camaraderie here evident.

Impulsively Shirley looked over at him and asked, “Do you keep any schedules or timelines? Do you have any idea of what all needs to be done and in what order?” When he tapped his noggin, she shook her head. “And that’s a good way to get messed up.”

“Oh, no doubt. It is a good way to get messed up,” he agreed, “and I’ve already done it many times, but I don’t really know how to keep it organized.” Then he frowned at her. “Unless you want to take that on.”

She frowned right back at him and said, “You might not like what I tell you.”

He laughed. “In that case, I won’t have any trouble telling you to butt out and to stay in your lane.”

She winced. “And I might take that in the wrong way, and you’ll send me to my vehicle in tears.”

“So, we would have to find a way to get along and to communicate better,” Timber suggested.

“I wasn’t planning on telling you how to do anything,” she clarified, with a chuckle. “It’s more a case of trying to keep you organized as to what you need to do, and making sure you know the potential impacts of decisions to do things differently than planned.”

“Keeping me organized would save us from having to go back and fix things that were backassward.”

“Especially seeing how we forgot a bunch of things that needed to happen on the bunkhouse,” one of the men pointed out.

“Even to just have a single written list of everything that needs to be done, where we could see it, would be helpful. Some of us are better equipped to work on some projects than others, so that would be helpful in terms of deciding who should be working on what.”

Timber nodded at him. “That is something we’ve talked about, isn’t it?”

“It sure is, and, if you had somebody who could help get you organized and could put in a system you would maintain going forward, it could really be a good thing.”

“A system I can maintain? You guys seem to think I can’t maintain anything,” he noted suspiciously, glaring at them. But his lips were twitching. He looked over at her and asked, “How did you do at the barn?”

“It was great. I absolutely loved it.”

He nodded. “There is something gloriously good for all of us about reaching out and helping animals, isn’t there?”

“Reaching out and helping animals, plus doing some physical work for the first time in a while, was helpful. Just being able to do something constructive with a tangible result is good, uplifting even.”

“Which is why we need you to help organize it,” the same burly man added, with a laugh.

Timber sighed. “I think what they’re trying to say is, it might help us all be more effective if you could get me organized.

Initially I didn’t think I wasn’t organized,” he shared, glaring at the men.

“But there has been a couple times lately where we’ve got the cart before the horse and missed some of the things that needed to be done. ”

Shirley nodded. “Even a project board with a long to-do list would be a better system than having it all in your head.”

“I have a massive to-do list,” he agreed, “but, yeah, it would be helpful if others could see it.”

“Do you have any whiteboards? Or a chalkboard? Anything like that?” she asked.

He looked at her with one eyebrow raised and asked, “Do I look like I have anything like that?”

She laughed. “No, not really,” she replied, with a smile.

“But I can do it with big sheets of paper for now, like brown paper used for padding shipping boxes. For so many people we don’t really want it to be down on something small, like printer paper,” she explained.

“You can certainly do that if you have finite schedules, but, if you’re talking about some big overarching project, it would really help to have big paper to work from. ”

He just frowned at her.

“And I suspect there’s really no money for that either, is there?” She looked around, trying to think of what she could use to set up master schedules. “I can use printer paper and just tape them all together,” she offered.

“That would probably take a lot more work than just getting a couple whiteboards,” Timber replied, as he brought up his phone and started checking something out. “Is that what you’re looking for?” He brought his phone to her.

She looked down at it and smiled. “Two of those would be really helpful.”

“They’re pretty big,” he told her.

She looked around, pointed up to the one big wall in the dining area. “While you’re doing so much charting and building, that would be the place for it. Everybody could come in and could see the work that needs to be done, what’s on top, what needs to be started next, then go from there.”

When he remained a little doubtful, she smiled and added, “And we don’t have to do any of it.”

He looked over at her. “You say that now, but they won’t say that.”

“Maybe not,” she noted, with a shrug. “But it’s your place and your system, so whatever works best for you is what we’ll do.”

“And yet,” he added, “it needs to be what works best for everyone here. We have a lot of small jobs that we’re all individually trying to keep track of as well, but we don’t have one central place for noting all of them.”

“Good,” she stated, as she looked down at the cost of the whiteboards and shrugged. “Order them, and I’ll pay for them. I’m not doing anything, and I’m hardly contributing.”

He snorted at that. “You’re not paying for some whiteboards to help get me organized,” he muttered, and he quickly sent through the order. “Next person who goes to town can pick them up.”

“Good enough,” she said, with a smile. “And what would that look like?”

He turned to her and frowned. “Will you be this pushy when you want to get that list going?”

She gave him a broad grin. “I will be a lot pushier when I want to get that list going because somehow I’ll have to get it out of your brain, so other people can work on it.”

He sighed, looked over at Toby and Dwight, caught them both grinning from ear to ear. “What are you smirking about? Wait until she wants to revamp your kitchen and the menu.”

The smile immediately fell off Dwight’s face as he stood up and declared, “She can stay out of my damn kitchen.”

Shirley grinned. “Gee, and here I thought maybe cinnamon buns or something like that would be a good thing for today.”

Toby was about to repeat Dwight’s warning, but he stopped. “Wait. What?… You bake?”

She nodded. “I can bake. I’m not good at putting together anything more than basic meals for myself, and I’m not good at having things all cooked and ready to eat at the same time like you are,” she admitted, with a shrug, “but I can bake.”

“Cinnamon buns?” one of the men repeated.

She nodded. “Cinnamon buns. Great big pans full of them.”

The man looked over at Timber. “If she can bake cinnamon buns too, the cost of those whiteboards is nothing.” And with, that he turned and walked away.

She looked over at Burke, who was grinning madly. “Does that mean cinnamon buns are a yes or a no?” she asked cautiously.

“It means yes,” Burke replied, “particularly if the rest of us have any say in the matter.”

“I figured that was a given,” she replied, with a laugh. “I’ve never known men to not want their sweets.”

“It’s one thing to have the sweets,” he clarified, with a chuckle, “but cinnamon buns are always a fan favorite.”

She smiled. “Good to know.” And, with that, she looked over at Timber. “Are you okay if I step into the kitchen and make some stuff?”

He stared at her in surprise. “I don’t mind at all, and Dwight and Toby have already given you the okay,” he noted. “So I’m just clarifying that fact that you said cinnamon buns , so an awful lot of men will be looking for those today.”

She laughed. “That’s fine. I have no whiteboard to work on, so I can bake.” And she walked toward the kitchen.

Burke asked, “Do you need a recipe?”

She looked back at him, shook her head, and said, “Nope, I sure don’t. This is my grandmother’s recipe, and I’ve been making it for years.”

And, with a bright smile on her face, she stepped into the kitchen and joined Toby and Dwight.