Muffins & Moonbeams: An Arcadia Valley Romance (Baxter Family Bakery Book 2)

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Muffins & Moonbeams: An Arcadia Valley Romance (Baxter Family Bakery Book 2) Page 12

by Elizabeth Maddrey


  She touched his arm. “I have water or iced tea.”

  “Tea is good. Thanks.” Malachi opened one container and breathed in the heady scent before tipping the contents onto a plate. He repeated the process with the other box, trying to keep everything from running together into a messy puddle.

  “Ohhh. Enchiladas.” Ursula leaned over her plate and sniffed before looking at him with a smile. “You remembered.”

  He nodded and reached for his tea. He’d tried to forget.

  “I should probably warn you...” Ursula trailed off as he took a sip and made a face. “It’s sweet tea. I went home after we fought. Mom reminded me how to make it the South Carolina way. I can get you some water.”

  “No. This is fine. I just wasn’t prepared.” He took another sip and set it down. For sweet tea it was delicious. And he didn’t mind sweet tea. He just needed to know what he was getting. ‘Cause when you were expecting unsweet, it was a bit of a shock. “There are a few places in D.C. that served it like this.”

  “Really? Seems like that’d be too far north.”

  He shrugged. It wasn’t every restaurant, but it was often enough that he’d learned to specify when he ordered. He reached a hand across the table. “Can we say grace?”

  She looked at his outstretched hand and her eyebrows lifted, but she laid her hand in his.

  Malachi smiled and bowed his head, focusing all his attention on the words he wanted to say rather than how very right it was to hold her hand. He said “amen” and squeezed her fingers before retrieving his hand. The warmth of her touch, however, stayed with him.

  “I think I finally conquered the database issue you were having.” Ursula shook her head as she cut into the enchilada. “Shouldn’t have taken me as long as it did. I’ve run into this before. This time, though, I made myself a note in the standard issues document I keep. Hopefully in the future I won’t need to beat my head against the wall for several days.”

  “Thanks. It’s a great site. You did a wonderful job.” He scooped a bite of beans. It was still a little awkward. Was it better to just dive in? Probably. “I’m sorry I didn’t stay the other day. And Sunday—the lunch thing—I had this plan but, I don’t know, I think maybe this is better.”

  “I don’t know. What was the plan?” She grinned and took another bite of her food.

  Malachi frowned. Was she teasing him? She was. Had to be. He shook his head. “Don’t remember. I really am sorry. I—the deaf thing—I’m not sure what happened there. I don’t try to hide it. Except moving here, I do more talking without signing because when I sign people stare. And it’s not like they sign. So. I wasn’t trying to hide anything.”

  “No. I know that.”

  “The game thing though? That...I guess I was hiding. I’m not sure why. It was fun, I guess, to know both facets of you. Like a secret. I should’ve asked when I figured it out. Except at first, I wasn’t sure. And if I was wrong, I didn’t want you to think I was a big nerd—or worse, some kind of socially inept, immature loser who spent all his time playing games online because he was incapable of living in the real world.” Malachi reached for his tea. He didn’t want her to think that of him, but sometimes it felt true. Walking away from the game was harder than he’d anticipated. And that was troubling.

  Her hand closed around his. “It’s all right. I overreacted. I mean, I still wish you’d said something. But some of that is because I didn’t want you to think those same things about me. And I was mortified thinking about the conversation we’d had about kissing. I wish I’d handled it differently. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

  Malachi flipped his hand over and wound his fingers through hers. “Forgive me?”

  “Absolutely. You’ll forgive me?”

  He nodded.

  Ursula picked up her fork and took another bite.

  Malachi sighed and tugged his hand free. “Sorry. I can’t eat left handed.”

  Jonah was running wheat berries through the mill when Malachi got to the bakery on Friday. Usually he did that while they were closed. He said the sound carried out into the customer area. Malachi lifted a hand in greeting and bypassed the office to see Micah.

  “Hey.”

  Micah set aside his book. “You’re so lucky you can’t hear.”

  Malachi grinned. “Why’s he doing flour now?”

  “Big special order just came in for an evening pickup. It won’t be a problem to make the extra, but we didn’t have enough flour for Jonah to be comfortable getting started.”

  Malachi reached for the scrap of paper that held the details. “This is all you wrote up?”

  Micah nodded. “I figured you had a special form or something on the computer and could make a more official invoice before they came.”

  “Did you get a deposit?”

  “Was I supposed to?”

  “With an order this big? Yes.” Malachi dropped the note on the counter in front of Micah. “Call him back and get fifty percent. ‘Cause if Jonah makes that much extra and he’s a no-show? It’s bad news.”

  Malachi went back into the kitchen and waved to catch Jonah’s eye before signing. “Don’t start on that special order just yet. Micah’s getting a deposit.”

  Jonah nodded and continued watching the wheat process into flour.

  In the office, Malachi booted the computer and clicked open the email. He scrolled down through the spam—aha—he clicked open the message from the same name as what Micah had written down. And he said he was happy to pay a deposit, so that was good. Micah calling back shouldn’t be too big a wrench in the works. If Malachi knew his brother, Micah would blame it all on him and spin some kind of woebegone tale of Malachi’s overly-organized ways that would have the customer laughing while he read off credit card details. Everyone would end up happy.

  Malachi transferred the information from the email into the accounting software and snapped a photo of it that he then texted to Micah. Hopefully he’d get it in time to tell the guy the right amount for the deposit. After a moment, his phone vibrated in his hand. Malachi looked down to see a photo of the cash register with the correct amount on the display. He shook his head. His brother was a moron.

  He marked the deposit on the invoice and printed two copies. He left one on the kitchen counter by the list of shares that were due to be picked up today and gave Jonah a thumbs-up. Then he carried the other copy out front and handed it to Micah.

  “Staple the receipt for the...” Malachi trailed off as Micah beat him to it.

  “Not completely useless here in the front, you know.” Micah grinned. “The guy was really nice, though he might think you’re a pain to work for.”

  Malachi scoffed. “Figured. That’s okay. Someone has to keep business in mind. Speaking of...I got a quote from the Beanery. For coffee? I think we should do it. He’s roasting fair trade beans here in town. I bought some, figured I’d brew a pot in the back for us to taste in a minute. When I’m back in the office, I’ll price out a few of the big dispensers, but we might need to have a counter and water hookup put in on the far wall to make it less of a hassle.”

  “That sounds potentially expensive.”

  The counter probably wouldn’t cost much. Corban was pretty handy. Between the three of them they could make it look good enough. And if they couldn’t, there were contractors in town. The water line was another story. “The alternative is making the coffee in the kitchen and lugging the full urns to the front every couple of hours.”

  “Price it out. It’s not that hard to move urns around, and it’ll give you and me something to do.” Micah grinned and reached for his book. “If Jonah needs help, let me know. I’m game to do more in the kitchen and have you take a turn up front if that’s what needs to happen.”

  Malachi nodded. He’d avoided taking shifts at the counter since Ursula had accused him of hiding his deafness. When he waited on customers, he had to speak. And read lips. Otherwise what was he supposed to do? He’d gotten along fine like that in D.C. He could do
it again here. He wasn’t hiding anything...and she’d apologized. He needed to let it go.

  It didn’t change the fact that up front was his least favorite place to be. Scratch that. Helping bake would be his least favorite. So...up front it was if they needed all hands on deck.

  Malachi sipped his coffee and watched the door. The special order was nearly ready, but the daily pickups had gotten behind schedule so Micah was in the back helping out. It had to be serious for Jonah to risk missing his three o’clock visitor. She ought to be along any second.

  Sunlight flashed off a car window as a police cruiser turned into one of the parking spaces. She really was just like clockwork. And she looked good in uniform. She wasn’t Ursula, by any stretch of the imagination, but she was definitely Jonah’s type.

  Gloria pulled open the door and stepped in. She took her customary sniff and smiled. “Hi there. Malachi, right?”

  He nodded and stood. “Good memory. What can I get you today?”

  Gloria scanned the offerings, her gaze drifting toward the door into the kitchen. Malachi fought a smile. Apparently the interest wasn’t one-sided. “Are those rolls the cheesy ones?”

  “They are—I think there’s more than just asiago this time. Cheddar, too, if I recall.” Malachi used tongs to grab one of the rolls and inspect it. “Yeah. That looks right.”

  “Mmm. That sounds perfect. I’ll take one of those. What’s the cookie today?”

  “Snickerdoodles.”

  “Really?” Her eyes lit up. “I haven’t had those in ages. I’ll take one of those as well.”

  “Sounds good. How’s your day been?” Malachi slipped the cookie and roll into a bag and rang her up. “Quiet, I hope.”

  She smiled. “It’s always quiet. That’s why I like working here. Everyone—thing—okay here?”

  “We got a big special order this morning. Ten extra loaves and three dozen muffins. It set Jonah back a little, so Micah’s gone back to help out.”

  Her face fell. “Oh. Well, a big order is good, right?”

  Malachi took the bills she offered and made change. “It is. Word’s getting out. That’s never bad. Would you like some coffee? I made a pot from beans I bought at the Beanery. It’s the best coffee I’ve ever tasted. We’re considering serving it, so another set of tastebuds would be welcome.”

  “Yeah? Okay. Thanks.” She took her bag to the table and sat.

  “How do you take it?”

  “Just black.”

  Malachi nodded and slipped into the kitchen. He tapped Jonah on the shoulder. “Take a mug of the coffee—black—out for Gloria and give yourself ten minutes. I can do this.”

  “You’re sure?” Jonah frowned at the bowl of batter and the muffin pans.

  How hard could it be? You scooped and plopped. He waved Jonah off. “Go.”

  Micah slid a tray of loaves into the oven. “I can do it. You probably have email to check or something.”

  “I do. Positive?”

  “Shoo. I could be finished by now.”

  Malachi shook his head and went into the office. There wasn’t any email that needed to be taken care of. Should he text Ursula? And say what? He frowned and opened a new text. Maybe Amos would be up for some Friday night company. The old man had promised him a game of checkers.

  18

  “Why am I here, again?” Ursula looked around the bridal shop in Twin Falls. So much white satin. And lace. And sparkling tiaras.

  Ruth bounced on the balls of her feet. “Because I’m not bringing my brothers or my fiancé with me. You’re the only female friend I have in Arcadia Valley. Besides, you said yes.”

  “Miss Baxter?” A slender, older woman in a sleek dusty rose suit approached from the back of the store. “I’m Barbara, your consultant. Who do you have with you?”

  “This is my friend, Ursula.” Ruth nudged Ursula’s arm.

  Ursula shook Barbara’s hand. Friends? Were they? Was it that simple? With Ruth, it seemed to be. “Hi. I’m a little out of my depth.”

  Barbara laughed, a quiet, tinkling sound. “That’s what I’m for. Come on back and let’s talk a little about what Miss Baxter is looking for. All you need to do is be moral support.”

  “You can call me Ruth. Please.”

  “Can I get you some iced tea? Or maybe hot? Coffee? A cookie?” Barbara led them to a sitting area where a love seat was flanked by two Louis XVI chairs in matching pale pink satin.

  “Um. Iced tea is good.” Ursula debated the relative merits of chair versus love seat.

  Ruth pulled Ursula down next to her on the settee. “That sounds good. And I never say no to a cookie.” When Barbara smiled and strode off, Ruth clapped her hands. “This is so exciting.”

  “Okay. If you say so.” It was all so fussy and female. She didn’t have anything against either of those things, usually. But wedding stuff with Malachi’s sister created a yearning in her heart that she wasn’t sure what to do with.

  “Maybe we’ll be here for you before much longer.” Ruth shot Ursula a knowing grin. “Heard you had some Mexican food. How was it?”

  “Enchiladas are never a bad thing.”

  Ruth laughed. “You’re terrible. I didn’t mean the food. Has my brother stopped being an idiot?”

  “He never started.” Ursula held up a hand to stop Ruth from speaking. “Seriously. It was...basically all me. But I think we have it figured out and can be friends now.”

  “Friends?” Ruth’s expression settled into a mask of disappointment.

  “Friends.” It would be enough, somehow. He’d held her hand, but that was just to pray. And if he’d felt any of the same things she did, he hadn’t shown it. So...friends.

  Ruth watched her for a moment then sighed. “I guess you have to start somewhere.”

  Barbara glided back in with a tray that she set on the small pouf in the center of the seating and took a chair. “Here we are. Now, Ruth, tell me what you’re picturing for your special day.”

  Ursula listened with half an ear as Ruth described her plan for a simple, homey wedding at Grace Fellowship in January. It sounded...lovely. Nothing ornate or over the top, just two people pledging their love before God and man. It wasn’t what she’d expected from someone who came from Washington D.C. But then, the wedding wasn’t going to take place there, so maybe Ruth was simply good at adapting to her environment. Or maybe she’d finally found the environment that suited her.

  “January. Well. We do have our work cut out for us.” Barbara tapped her lips with her index finger. “There should still be time for all the fittings but I’m glad you came in when you did. Now, tell me about your dream dress.”

  Ruth tensed up. “I...need a little help there, to be honest. All I know for sure is that I want white and it has to have sleeves.”

  “You’re not thinking of an outdoor wedding?” Barbara’s expression bordered on horrified.

  Ursula snickered. “I think it’s more of a modesty thing. You’d be okay with lace or short sleeves, right? You just want to be covered?”

  Ruth nodded.

  “Ah. Hmm. I have a couple of ideas. Ruth, come with me. I’ll pull a few dresses while you undress. Ursula, we’ll be out to show you something in just a few minutes.” Barbara stood and waited while Ruth nervously set her purse next to Ursula on the love seat. Ruth was pale.

  Ursula fumbled for Ruth’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “You’ll be fine. I can’t wait to see what she gets.”

  Ruth took a deep breath. “Okay.”

  Ursula picked up a glass of the tea and sipped. She made a face and spit most of the liquid back. There was a small bowl of sugar packets on the tray. She grabbed three and dumped them in, stirring forcefully before taking another sip. Better. But it was a stern reminder that she wasn’t in South Carolina anymore. The cookies were tiny little store bought things. She should recommend the bakery. With Malachi doing deliveries down here once a week, the bridal shop could probably get a couple dozen, and they’d stay fresh enough to be b
etter than these.

  Unable to help herself, she stood and walked over to one of the dress racks. She flipped through the hangers and paused on a white satin gown with an empire waist. The bodice was quilted—almost medieval looking with the gold thread woven through the design—and the skirt fell loose and unadorned to the floor. There was a small train trailing from the back. It was...exactly what she’d choose if she were getting married anytime in the next century.

  She flipped the price tag over. Not as dreadful as she’d imagined. Not cheap, but then, what wedding dress was? Still, it was nice to know that something affordable was still possible today. The TV shows made it look like you had to take out the equivalent of a car loan in order to be properly dressed for your wedding.

  “Here we are. This is the first dress I pulled.” Barbara clipped back into the room on heels that must leave her feet screaming by the end of the day. Ruth followed behind her, lost in the enormous full skirt of the dress.

  Ursula shook her head. “No. That’s...dreadful.”

  “Oh thank goodness.” Ruth let out a breath. “I was afraid it was just me.”

  “No. That’s the perfect dress for someone who’s eight inches taller than you and into drama. But it does have sleeves. So, bonus points.”

  Barbara offered a tight smile. “All right. Let’s go try the next one.”

  Ursula pressed her lips together. Was she not supposed to be honest? That’s what Ruth had said she needed in the car on the way down. Maybe Barbara just needed to loosen up a little. Ruth couldn’t possibly be the only person who hadn’t swooned at the first dress she tried on. She rubbed her hand down the dress she’d been looking at and tucked it back into the rack. There was no wedding in her future, so why was she even looking? She made her way back to the love seat.

  This time, Ruth preceded Barbara into the room, her face alight. The dress had a sweetheart neckline, long lace sleeves, and an A-line skirt that fell in soft folds around her. There was a sparkling belt at the waist that added a little bit of drama and took the dress from prom to wedding. “Oh. Wow.”

 

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