by Olivia Miles
“I could put a call into a shop I know,” Cole offered. “They’re pretty quick. What’s the name going to be?”
“Buttercream Bakery,” she said, wondering how he would react to that. She had filled two notebooks with ideas for the name before finally settling on her choice. She had considered asking Amelia her opinion, but she was almost afraid to hear her sister suggest something different, when nothing else seemed to stick.
“I like that,” Cole said with a grin, and for reasons that Maddie couldn’t explain, she felt her shoulders sag in relief.
Really, she told herself, as she picked up her pen and went back to her notes, determined to not forget anything today. What did it matter if her contractor thought she’d picked a nice name for the shop?
But from the smile that stretched over her face, she realized that it did matter. Because Cole was turning out to be more than a contractor.
He was starting to feel like a friend.
8
Maddie stood in her brand-new kitchen, running her hand over the smooth marble counters, and tracing her fingers over the shiny new appliances, thinking how different it looked, just days earlier. Now, complete as requested by Friday, it was exactly as she had envisioned it. It was light, airy, and above all things, functional. It was perfect.
And she almost couldn’t bear the thought of actually putting it to use.
Cole emerged behind her, making her jump, and she turned with a hand on her chest to see him standing in the doorway, giving her a funny look. “Are you just going to stand there gaping at it?”
“It’s amazing, Cole, really,” she breathed.
She thought she saw a little pink rise up in his cheeks, but he averted his gaze and firmed his mouth. “I’ll be starting the installation on the bakery counter today. Might be noisy.”
“I’ll be baking today, so I probably won’t leave the kitchen,” she told him. Tomorrow was the Harvest Fest, and she had pies and mini pies, and muffins and turnovers to crank out before she closed up shop for tonight. She was thankful for once that the Sunday market was cancelled in light of the busy weekend. Usually it was something she looked forward to each week. And despite all the extra work, she didn’t intend to give it up. That orchard was her family business, and she was still a part of that family, even if she had a bakery to run.
She’d find a way.
Somehow.
Cole nodded once before disappearing into the main room, letting the brand-new swing door to the kitchen fall closed behind him. Maddie felt giddy as it did so; she hadn’t even noticed that earlier, when it had been propped open upon her arrival.
Now Maddie stood in the middle of the room, alone, left to completely take it in. Her kitchen. Alls hers. Just the thought of it filled her with a nervous excitement. This was really happening.
Only none of it would really happen if she let the entire town down at the Harvest Fest tomorrow, would it?
Right. It was time to get to work. She had lugged flour and sugar and other dry ingredients over to the bakery throughout the week, carrying as much as her bicycle basket or hands would allow, and she transferred everything from the main room to the kitchen, her last bags being the two she’d carried over today: the butter and cream and other perishables that she now loaded into her beautiful new refrigerator. She took time to organize everything so it would be within easy reach, and she couldn’t wait for her new canisters to arrive so that she would have her main ingredients within easy reach. For now, though, she would have to deal with the large bags she had stacked in her new pantry. Cole had maximized the space by adding a rack on the inside panel of the door.
Another feature she hadn’t asked for, or thought of, but which would be extremely useful.
Should she be annoyed that he was taking liberties, or grateful that he’d been so thoughtful? She decided on the latter, and decided to thank him first chance she had. She knew better than to interrupt him when he was using a power tool.
She went to the storage room for the largest of the bags of flour and sugar—and hesitated when she saw her mother’s apron, folded in tissue paper on the top shelf, beside the stacks of plates. She hesitated, and then, before she could give it any more thought, she reached for her trusty blue and white striped apron, issued to her on her first day over at the café, and looped it over her neck.
Her mother’s apron was threadbare and soft, a hallmark of sweet moments spent in the kitchen of their big home, baking pies for the market with Maddie’s assistance. It hung on a hook for years after she was gone, and Britt had been understandably upset to see Candy wearing it one time. Maddie was just happy she had been spared the sight. But even though Britt wanted her to have it, Maddie wasn’t so sure she had earned the right.
Why not Amelia? Amelia with her successful café?
Maddie worked through her list, starting with the dough, which she let chill while she peeled apples. She had five hundred hand pies to get through, and thanks to the four ovens, she was able to get through nearly a hundred with each batch. But it didn’t stop there. There were the muffins, too. And the large sheets of apple crumb cake that she’d serve in slices.
She baked without stopping, until the counters were full of cooling hand pies that would then be transferred to the bakery boxes she’d ordered in bulk. She hadn’t even realized how much time had passed, until Cole appeared in the doorway, his tool case strapped over his shoulder.
“Breaking for lunch?” she asked, kicking herself for letting her eyes drop down over his hard, wide chest.
He gave her a slow grin. “Breaking for the day, actually. You haven’t stopped, and I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
“Wow.” Maddie set down the wooden spoon she was using to toss apple slices with brown sugar and cinnamon. “I guess I lost track of time.”
“You know,” said Cole as he looked at the white cardboard boxes she had stacked and assembled in the corner of the kitchen. “Now that you have your own bakery, you could put a label on these.”
Maddie considered this long enough to realize that he was completely right, and that yet again, she’d had an oversight.
“It’s too late now,” she said, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was past four. She still had to make pie dough, filling for another sixty hand pies, and never mind the muffins. She’d saved the easiest item on her list for last, but it didn’t mean that it wouldn’t take time. “I have too much to do.”
“I could help,” Cole offered.
She hesitated, and then shook her head. “What about the counter?”
“I’m waiting on the glass now for the display case. Won’t be in until Monday.”
She glanced at him. It was Friday, and it was nearly the end of the day. And she didn’t want to take advantage of his kindness. But she couldn’t swing the rest of her prep work for the festival and get the labels printed, too.
“If you’re sure. I’ll pay you for your time.”
He cut a hand through the air. “Nonsense. Happy to help. You have the logo?”
She did. She’d paid a freelancer to design it a few weeks back, locking in her decision for the bakery name. And yes, she did lose sleep that night, considering what a big step that had been.
“I have the file on my phone,” she said, pulling the device from her back pocket.
He handed her a business card with his contact information. She wasn’t sure why she was surprised to see that he had one. Maybe because this was Blue Harbor, where everyone knew everyone.
Or maybe because she hadn’t exactly considered getting any cards made for herself.
“Send me the file and I’ll get it over to the printers. You should probably get some business cards made up while you’re there. And maybe something for the window? Something to let people know exactly when you’ll open? Create a bit of a buzz?”
She marveled at him, wondering just who this man in front of her was. Not the one she’d known growing up, that was for sure.
“I can’t believe
I never thought of this,” she said, wincing.
“You’re busy with other things,” he said, gesturing to the rolling pin that was sitting in a pool of flour.
She shook her head, feeling her cheeks heat. “But it’s like you said the other day. I can’t just hide back here and bake all day. This is my business. I’m in charge of a lot more than pie crusts now.” She felt hot tears burn the backs of her eyes and she willed them not to fall.
It would be one thing to let Cole see her cry. It would be another to get the pie dough all salty.
She picked up the rolling pin and turned her back slightly to him, so he couldn’t see her struggling to compose herself.
“True,” Cole said lightheartedly, “but for now I think your main priority is pie crusts.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder, surprised to see the kindness in his eyes as he gave her a smile.
Just as quickly, it fell, and he nodded once. “I’ll head over to the print shop now. Send me the file while I’m on my way.”
She watched him go, back through the door, leaving her alone in the kitchen again. And despite the fact that she still had hours of baking ahead of her and hadn’t stopped for lunch, and her brand-new, beautiful pristine kitchen was now an absolute mess of flour and mixing bowls and berries and open canisters, the entire bakery smelled sweet and felt warm and inviting and…hopeful.
*
Cole took the liberty of filling in the information for the business card. Normally, he’d see this as overstepping, and if Maddie saw it that way, he’d offer to pay for the cards. They weren’t much, and the teenage boy behind the desk offered to put them together while he waited. Said it was the most business they’d had all day.
“It leaves plenty of time for homework,” he said with a shrug.
Cole figured the boy was roughly seventeen or eighteen. A junior or senior in high school, most likely. “Staying around here for college?” he asked while the kid uploaded the file and stood by the machine, waiting for it to process.
At this, the boy’s otherwise bored expression came to life. “Got a full ride to Northwestern.”
Cole nodded at this. “Impressive.”
“Yeah. I’ve never been to Chicago. Never really been anywhere.”
Cole gave him a little smile. “Me either,” he admitted.
“Really?” The kid didn’t look like he believed that. “But you’re…No offense, sir, but aren’t you like…thirty?”
In other words, an old man, at least according to this kid. Cole laughed, despite the inadvertent insult, realizing just how much life experience could be gleaned in twelve or thirteen years. How much someone could grow. Or change.
But he’d never been like this kid. Never had a scholarship to a high-profile college, or any college at all. Never even applied to college.
He’d lived in this town all his life, but like this kid, he wasn’t going to stay here forever.
And with his mother’s health declining by the day, it wouldn’t be long now before he was gone for good.
The kid collected the stack of business cards and held them out for approval. Cole studied the card, at the swirly logo that Maddie had created, and her name below it. She hadn’t specified what color she’d wanted, but he’d taken a gamble, and gone with a shade of purple that popped and complemented the buttery yellow that was now the hallmark color of her bakery.
“Looks great,” he said.
“Are these for like, your girlfriend or something?” the boy asked as he put the labels and printed information sheet in a bag, along with the box of business cards.
“A friend,” Cole said, shutting down anything more than that immediately.
But it wasn’t an excuse, he realized. Maddie had started to feel like a friend. The first he’d had in Blue Harbor in a long time. If ever.
*
Maddie was rolling out the last of the pie crusts when Cole returned, an hour later. She brushed a strand of hair from her forehead with the back of her hand and looked down at her apron, now coated in flour.
A good reason not to wear her mother’s apron, she told herself. But not the main reason. No, that cut much deeper.
Cole set the bag he was holding down on the only clear space of countertop to be found and walked over to the island where she stood. He leaned down, smelling the pies that were cooling on one end, and gave her a look that showed he was impressed. “These smell amazing.”
“Please, take one, for your troubles,” she said distractedly. Only she wasn’t distracted by the work she still had to do tonight, or the fact that she’d chastised herself for the better part of an hour over the labels. Really! What right did she have to be going into business when she was overlooking the most obvious facets of the business?
But no. Now she was distracted by the shadow of stubble that graced Cole’s jaw line, and by the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he grinned.
He shook his head. “Nah, you save these for tomorrow. I can tell you’ve been working hard.”
Not hard enough, Maddie thought. Baking was only part of the job, and she couldn’t let the management end of things slide away.
She glanced up to give him a little smile, but her heart skipped a beat when her eyes locked with his and didn’t shift away. He was staring at her, with that intense look she had come to accept, or even like, and he was leaning slowly across the counter, closing the distance between their bodies. Her breath locked in her chest when she considered what must be happening. That he might have been picking up on the same things she had.
Instead, his hand went up, and she felt the warmth of his skin brushing at her face.
“You had flour on your nose,” he said, showing her his thumb.
“Oh,” she breathed, smiling foolishly. “Oh.” Of course! Of course that was all it was! Honestly, what did she think the man was going to do? Try and kiss her?
And if he had?
She pursed her lips. No sense in even thinking about that.
“I brought you these,” he said, opening the bag on the counter to reveal sheets of labels that were so perfect, and so absolutely beautiful, she gasped out loud. “And I didn’t know exactly how you wanted the business cards, but I took the liberty. If you don’t like them, I can have them redo them. They weren’t very busy today.”
Maddie studied the card, her chest swelling with pride when she saw her name in clear font, the name “proprietor” underneath.
“It’s perfect,” she said.
“And I also brought you this,” he said, reaching into the bag and pulling out a premade salad she recognized from the grocery store. Clearly, the poor man wasn’t up for another ambush by Candy over at the café. “I took a wild guess that you probably won’t stop for dinner.”
“Is this all part of the job description?” she asked, giving him a grateful smile.
He shrugged that away, his eyes skirting around the room. “Happy to hear there aren’t any complaints about the kitchen.”
“Nope,” Maddie said. “I’ve certainly put it to use, too.” She laughed at the mess, knowing that she would have it all cleaned up before she left for the night. Whenever that was.
The thought of a long night and even longer day tomorrow made her weary. “Tomorrow will be a big day. I had thought I might have staff hired to help out, but it didn’t make sense to bring someone on the payroll until the bakery is days away from opening.” She’d train them, get them up to speed. Even if she just started with one person, working the counter and helping with prep, she could handle the baking on her own if need be while she assessed her daily demand.
That was the plan at least. But things didn’t always go to plan when it came to running a business, she’d realized.
“I could help out tomorrow,” Cole surprised her by saying.
She almost wasn’t sure she had heard him correctly, and she watched him, waiting for him to take it back, or clarify. Instead, he just gave a casual grin. “Not part of the service. Just…an offer.�
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Her heart was hammering in her chest and she knew she was grinning broadly. Too broadly. But she couldn’t help it.
“Only if you’re sure. I mean…yes, please! But…it’s a long day,” she warned.
“I’ve got time,” he said.
“Thank you,” Maddie said. “Thank you!”
Cole’s eyes hooded as he attempted to hide his smile, but she could tell he was pleased as he mumbled his parting words and headed out for the night.
Maddie turned back to the messy kitchen, from the bakery boxes to the cooling treats, to the salad that she would now eat for energy.
She’d come into this kitchen today feeling alone, and a bit overwhelmed. But now, she had backup. Even support. Someone who was as vested as she was in making this place a success.
Someone who cared.
Question was, did he just care about the bakery, or was there more to it than that?
9
Maddie didn’t know why she had bothered to put on lipstick. Or leave her hair down when a ponytail or braid would have been so much more practical. Or why she had worn her good knee-high chestnut brown leather boots that were typically reserved for nights out with the girls, rather than the work boots that would have been the obvious choice for standing outside on a farm on a chilly fall day.
But of course she knew, deep down, why she had done it. She just hoped that no one else picked up on it, too.
No such luck, she soon realized. She stifled a sigh as she stood behind the stand where she had just finished stacking her pie boxes, and saw Cora tilt her head from a few yards away, where she had been helping Britt set up the pony rides for the children. That was a new addition this year, and Maddie suspected it had a lot to do with Robbie’s daughter Keira.
“You’re all dressed up!” Cora said suggestively as she sauntered over to where Maddie stood.
Maddie darted her eyes around the Harvest Fest, wishing Cora would keep her voice down, and hoping that no one else had overheard. Cole hadn’t arrived yet, and she was still trying to push back the worry that he might not come at all.