Ursula peeked through the window to the side of the door. Her eyebrows shot up and she brushed at the T-shirt with a phone number from an old pop song emblazoned across its chest. She pulled open the door and offered a weak smile before signing, “Hello.”
Malachi extended the box of muffins and waited for her to take them. When his hands were free he signed without speaking. She could keep up. And if she couldn’t, well, she could ask a question. “I brought you these as an apology. I’m sorry I hurt you. I appreciate you continuing on with the website until we can find someone else.”
“You don’t have to find someone else. Unless you want to. But I hope you won’t. I—I was hasty. I’m sorry, too.” She glanced over her shoulder before opening the door wider. “Would you like to come in? Maybe we could talk?”
Malachi shook his head. “Thanks, but I can’t. I have another delivery to make.”
She was adorable when she was confused. Commenting on it probably wouldn’t do him any favors though. He gestured to the bakery bag sitting at his feet.
“Oh. Okay.” Ursula swallowed visibly. “Another time?”
He nodded. The right thing to do, probably, was to suggest a date that would work. But he’d gotten the inkling of a plan as he’d walked over, and, for now at least, maybe it was better to keep her guessing. “I should go. I really am sorry I hurt you.”
Malachi bent to pick up the bag. He waved it in a jaunty salute, ignoring the fact that her lips were moving. He trotted down the steps and crossed the street.
16
Ursula stood in the door and watched as Malachi crossed the street and climbed the stairs to Mr. Greenway’s house. The old man grinned more brightly than she’d ever seen him as Malachi dragged a second lawn chair over and sat, offering the man the bakery bag. And then he started to sign. And Mr. Greenway signed back. Heart heavy, Ursula retreated into her house and closed the door. She wasn’t going to eavesdrop. She’d never bothered to try and talk to the man, so of course she didn’t realize he was deaf—maybe he was just hard of hearing? Although, would you learn to sign if you didn’t need to? She had. For a friend. There was simply no way to know unless she took the time to meet her neighbors. Why hadn’t she?
She swung into the kitchen for a glass of water. The answer was simple enough: she’d been happy in her isolated, online life. Malachi had shattered that. And as much as that hurt, it was a good thing. It was time. She popped open the box and considered the muffins inside. Three looked almost like bread pudding with a crumbly topping of some sort and three had...were those raisins? Chocolate chips? She bet on chocolate and took one of those, flipping the lid down and tucking it in to keep Triton from poking his nose into all of them. Should she refrigerate them?
With the muffin and her drink, she went back to her office. The list of changes she’d gotten from the bakery was minor enough, but the database one was giving her a bit of a fit. Databases were someone’s little joke on the computer world. Oh, sure, they served a purpose. But that didn’t mean she had to enjoy working with them.
She took a bite of the muffin and sighed. So good. Like an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie but in muffin form. It was a sweet gesture. If only he’d stayed for a bit so they could talk. She had things she needed to say—a more complete apology to offer. Was he still across the street? Should she go over and ask...no...he probably had other deliveries beyond Mr. Greenway. Or work to do back at the bakery. And she had work to do, too. In spite of that, she found herself standing at the front window looking across the street. Mr. Greenway sat on his porch alone, munching on a muffin. Well, then. She’d get back to work, too. This was good. Better. Except she hadn’t missed that Malachi didn’t offer a suggestion for when to get together to talk.
The rest of the week passed in a blur of work and Orion’s Quest with her dad. Ursula had checked every night to see if Malachi would sign in. But he hadn’t. Would he really walk away from everything online, even after they’d—well, it wasn’t all completely resolved, but they’d started toward that goal, hadn’t they? Which left her pacing her living room on Sunday morning waiting for it to be time to leave for church.
She didn’t need to be the first person who showed up. That...was just a little too desperate. If she caught him as he arrived, or just afterward, would he sit with her? She groaned. She was thinking about this entirely too much. Church was for Jesus. And if she was this focused on Malachi, she was going to miss out. Jesus? Could you help me calm down, please? And...I know I’ve asked this a zillion times, but please fix things between Malachi and me. I don’t know if more than friendship is what You want for us. I hope so. But I don’t know. Even if it isn’t...I’d really like to be friends with him.
Ursula took a deep breath and grabbed her Bible and the notebook she used for sermon notes. Forget Malachi. She was going to go, get a seat, and focus on the service. And if she saw him...well, she’d cross that bridge when she got to it.
The morning showed the makings of another lovely day ahead. She slipped into her car and set her things on the passenger seat. She could walk...but having the car gave her the freedom to do whatever she wanted after church. Like maybe meet Malachi somewhere for lunch. Meet him instead of go with him. That kept it more casual. Friendly. No pressure. Her lips tingled as she remembered their kisses. Oh, please, don’t let those be out of the picture for good.
Mr. Greenway wasn’t out on his porch yet. Normally he was an early riser, out on the porch by the time Ursula shuffled into the kitchen for her first cup of coffee. Was he at church this morning? He didn’t usually go. Or so it seemed. She hadn’t always paid a ton of attention to what days were Sundays versus the rest of the week. Streaming the service from South Carolina meant she could do it live or wait and get to it on a completely different day if she needed to. Yet another thing she’d realized she needed to fix during her visit home. Her mom’s point about needing community—one made up of real, live people—was valid. Which was, of course, why she was pulling into a parking spot at Grace Fellowship this morning instead of snuggling in bed with Triton and her laptop.
Triton didn’t seem to care.
She took the bulletin from the usher standing by the door and scanned it as she scooted toward an empty seat in the middle of the sanctuary.
“Hey.”
Ursula set her things aside and looked up. “Hi, Ruth.”
“You want to come sit with us?” Ruth jerked her head toward the seats a few rows up where her brothers and fiancé were sitting. Jonah and Corban had turned and were looking their way. Micah and Malachi remained facing forward resolutely.
“Um.” She drew her lower lip between her teeth. She did want to. But did he want her to? Or was it going to bother him? This is exactly why Ursula had wanted them to talk on Wednesday when Mal had come by. “Are you sure it’d be okay?”
Ruth smiled. “You’re my friend. You’re allowed to sit with me even if my brother—one or more of them—is a bonehead.”
Ursula chuckled, but her heart sank. Was his apology simply that? A willingness to admit he’d hurt her but no interest in moving forward and seeing what kind of relationship they might have? She’d live with that, if she had to. She really didn’t want to. She grabbed her things and stood. “Okay.”
Ruth clapped her hands together and scooted out so Ursula had room to follow. “Yay. It’s good to have one more female to balance out all the men.”
“Happy to help.” Ursula sat on the other side of Ruth at the end of the row. Jonah looked over and smiled. She waved. Corban grinned and took Ruth’s hand. Micah and Malachi still didn’t look her way, but they signed to one another. The angle was odd and she couldn’t quite make it out, but she couldn’t stop the thought that they were talking about her.
The service was good. Would Micah translate the entirety of it to Malachi since it was about forgiving someone who wronged you? Because like it or not, she’d made assumptions and had been just as wrong as him. Maybe more, since she’d lashed out in anger.
She sighed. Her temper was the bane of her existence. No matter how hard she tried, it was there, lurking under the surface, waiting for an excuse to erupt. Dad said she got it from her mother. Maybe she did. But Mom’s was under control, most of the time. Maybe that was something that came with age and experience?
“You there?” Ruth waved a hand in front of Ursula’s face.
Heat flooded her cheeks. “Sorry. Thinking.”
“Lunch? I have a casserole in the oven—the timer should’ve kicked in about thirty minutes ago to get it cooking. Then just some simple sides. But there’s more than enough, even with these four.” Ruth pointed at the guys.
Ursula followed Ruth’s finger and her gaze locked with Malachi’s. He gave the tiniest shake of his head. She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat and widened her eyes to keep the burning tears from filling her eyes. “I—” She cleared her throat and tried again. “I should get home. Triton—my cat—is still punishing me for having left him last week. Thanks though.”
Shoulders back, head high, Ursula collected her things and strode out of the church, her pace quickening after she got through the doors into the foyer. By the time she hit the parking lot, it was the closest to running she’d come since high school gym class, and the tears she’d tried to control were spilling down her cheeks.
Triton curled against her legs as Ursula clicked the remote looking for something that wasn’t a wedding fiasco show to watch. Honestly. Couldn’t the programmers find something that wasn’t a constant reminder that she was single and likely to stay that way for the rest of her life? Oh goody. Zombies. She paused. It still beat weddings. She ran a hand down Triton’s back. He purred and butted her hand with his head. Ursula smiled. At least someone loved her.
Loved.
She wasn’t in love with Malachi. But she could see the potential for it. Especially once she added in what she knew of him from their time playing online. Say what you would about online friendships, in their case, they’d discussed real things. Important things. She’d shown him parts of herself that she hadn’t revealed to anyone else for a long time. Which was probably why she’d reacted so badly when she’d found out he’d known who she was all along. Okay, not all along. But for long enough without saying something.
She let out a breath. She’d forgiven him for that, though. She needed to stop dwelling on it. Except for the fact that she missed him. It was an ache in her heart that simply couldn’t be soothed.
“Should I tell him, T? Or would that make it worse?”
Triton looked up at her and offered a short set of meows. Approval? It wasn’t his chiding tone, though to be fair, he usually only used that when she gave him dry kibble when he’d clearly stated a preference for the wet.
Ursula leaned forward and grabbed her phone off the coffee table. She thumbed open a text message and typed his name in the “to” field. But what did she say? She couldn’t very well just say she missed him. That was...obnoxious. It put all the blame on him and didn’t accept any responsibility for the fact that this whole scuffle was, at least partially, her fault. Go for friendly? Breezy? Why not. She tapped out a text and studied it then hit send.
“There. It’s done. I just told him it was good to see him at church. That’s true and not scary, right, T?”
Triton gave a cat version of a shrug and twisted his head to get her fingers petting where he wanted them. Ursula smiled. Why couldn’t men be as easy as cats?
Her phone chimed. He’d replied. That was a good sign, right? She tapped open his message.
“Good to see you, too. Did you like the muffins?”
She smiled and scooted down a bit so she could prop her feet on the coffee table. If they were going to text, she wanted to be comfortable.
“I did. Was that French toast? Different. But good.” She waited after hitting send. Would he respond right away? She missed their talks...maybe he did, too?
“Needed syrup, I thought. Next week is banana nut. Jonah is going crazy about using bananas since they’re not local but the supermarket had a lot that had ripened past what they could sell and they let us buy them cheap. Since our leftovers go to Corinna’s Cupboard, everyone still wins and Ben doesn’t have to deal with gross bananas.”
Ursula smiled. She hadn’t realized they donated their day-olds. That should go on the website. “Can I put day olds to Corinna’s Cupboard on your About page? Think it’s a major feel-good selling point for people.”
Nearly five minutes elapsed between her text and Malachi’s reply.
“Jonah says no thank you. Better to keep on the DL. Matt 6:3 and all.”
She frowned and flipped to the Bible app, tapping in the verse. Huh. Good enough. “Well, I think it’s cool. But that makes sense too. How are the muffins selling?”
“Only 2 weeks in. Hard to say. But I lean toward saying they’re a good thing. They’re starting to generate some walk-in business. Now thinking about coffee.”
She laughed. If you give Arcadia Valley a muffin they are, most decidedly, going to want some coffee to go with it. “Talk to Grant Ward at the Beanery. He roasts here in town. Good stuff.”
“Nice. Thanks.”
Ursula waited. Finally, she changed the subject. “Couple of the guys on OQ asked about you coming back.”
“Not sure if I will. Who?”
She gave him the names and added, “Hope you do.”
When he didn’t text back after five minutes, she set her phone down and dragged the blanket from the back of the couch over her. Triton gave a feline harumph and stalked into the kitchen. Ursula stretched out and gave her attention to the zombies. They might be enough to keep her mind from wondering what Malachi was thinking.
17
Malachi packed up the last box of bread and tucked it into the trunk of his car. Pick up day in Twin Falls had gone smoothly. He was starting to recognize the regulars, and word was getting out that he was there, so folks were stopping by for a one-off purchase. He had high hopes that they’d convert to a subscription. Jonah’s baking had been good when they started the bakery in the spring and it was only getting better. The smaller items—muffins and cookies primarily—were good sellers down here. And at the register. Even Micah had to admit it.
Thursday night. Corban and Ruth would be having wedding planning discussions over their dinner tonight. Micah was probably reading some thick book published sometime around the invention of the printing press. And Jonah was more than likely ensconced at the computer flipping through recipes, looking for something to modify. As well as the muffins were selling, coming up with reasonable flavors seemed to stress Jonah out. Maybe once they got a decent number of good sellers figured out Jonah could just rotate through them. That might lift some of the pressure.
He got in the car and wound through the streets of the city—though calling it that still made him laugh. Twin Falls was nothing compared to Washington, D.C., or even the suburbs around it. Still, compared to Arcadia Valley it was bustling. He could go home and make a sandwich, close himself in his room and bounce around the Internet, or...he missed Ursula. Maybe he should do something about that. Their text conversation on Sunday had been pleasant, and the fact that she’d asked about OQ was encouraging. Not that he planned to play again anytime soon. There were questions he needed to answer first—because he still wasn’t convinced he’d done anything wrong not mentioning his hearing.
He pulled into the parking lot of El Corazon. They had a decent crowd for Thursday evening from the looks of things. Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long to get carry out. If Ursula had already eaten, well, he’d have leftovers for tomorrow night, too. Mexican was never a bad idea. He placed his order and sat in a chair by the door while he waited. Taking his phone out of his pocket, he texted his siblings to let them know his plan. Ruth had started a group text two or three years ago and it was still going strong, even now that they lived within five minutes of each other. Though it had transitioned to funny pictures half the time or snarky thoughts Mic
ah had while sitting out front in the bakery and bored between customers. Or, like now, a chance for his brothers to send stupid comments like “Hubba hubba.” Honestly, who said that anymore? He sent back an eye rolling emoji and tucked his phone back in his pocket.
Within fifteen minutes, Malachi had boxes of chicken and cheese enchiladas, along with beans and rice, and was back in the car. The rich scent of chicken and spicy sauce made his mouth water. He turned down the street and glanced at Amos’ house as he drove past. The old man had gone inside already—probably time for his own dinner. It was good to know that he didn’t sit out ‘til all hours. Arcadia Valley was safe enough, but the man was older and could still catch a chill as the evenings cooled. He made a U-turn and pulled alongside the curb in front of Ursula’s house. He grabbed the takeout and a box of muffins and took a deep breath.
Triton was missing from his usual perch in the window. Was it dinner time for cats, too? Malachi pushed the doorbell and fought the urge to shift from foot to foot. Ursula peeked through the sidelight window and grinned, pulling open the door. “Hi there.”
Malachi lifted the bag emblazoned with El Corazon’s logo and, as his hands were full, just spoke. “I was hoping you might be free for dinner.”
Her eyes lit up and she pushed the door wider. “You just caught me. I was eyeing the peanut butter. I have to say, what you brought smells a lot better. Come on in.”
Malachi followed her to the kitchen and smiled at Triton, who was hunched over his bowl chowing down on his kitty food. “I wondered why he wasn’t in his usual spot in the window.”
“Oh, no. He never misses a meal. Gets really cranky if I try to stretch him past five thirty.” She pointed to the table. “Have a seat. I’ll grab plates.”
He set the muffins on the counter by the stove before pulling out a chair. He reached into the bag to get the two boxes of food. They didn’t really need plates. But if she wanted to fuss, he wasn’t going to stop her.
Muffins & Moonbeams: An Arcadia Valley Romance (Baxter Family Bakery Book 2) Page 11