Trouble Brewing (In Ashwood Book 2)

by Kinney Scott

  On the ride over to his uncle and aunts home, his mind wandered. Now that the electric inspection had passed, he could move forward with the installation of cooling and steam systems, tanks and vessels. Patience paid off in this process, a lesson he had learned when he first scaled up from his garage to his current compact brewery north of town.

  In the past, he would have given Seth a call to have his cousin join in for the family breakfast, but this morning he knew Natalie would be Seth’s first priority. It had been a long time since he’d lived with a woman. As much as he loved the idea of waking up with Iris, he couldn’t quite picture the details of their lives meshing together. Still, he looked forward to asking her out.

  His truck slid a bit on the last turn near his aunt and uncles home. He carefully slowed when squeals and laughter met his ears as he pulled up to Bill and Sandy’s. Two snowmen welcomed him, complete with winter hats, pinecone eyes, and a carrot nose. Amanda streaked across the yard, running from his youngest sister, a snowball in each hand. The back of Sylvia’s coat held clear evidence of a recent snowball hit. Payback was inevitable. Wade got out and leaned on the fender of his truck, watching the battle.

  Amanda had three brothers, a clear advantage in all games of war, but Sylvia lettered in track and volleyball in high school. This should be good, he thought. His sister let a snowball fly. It landed on target right in the middle of Amanda’s butt. Wade laughed, but not for long. During the fray, his nephew and niece had been creeping up giggling, with guidance from Linnea. Wade stood perfectly still pretending not to notice the giggles from the kids. The moment they peppered his legs with tiny snowballs he growled and scooped them up for bear sized hugs.

  “Where did you come from?” he laughed, twirling them around, one kid tucked like a football under each arm.

  “We sneaked on you Uncle Wade!” their high unison voices called out.

  “Who made these snowmen? Did you two roll those giant snowballs all by yourself?”

  “Manda helped... Grandpa gave us carrots.” Wade learned as he placed them back on their feet near the front porch. He climbed up the stairs, stamping to clear his boots of snow.

  Wade turned as a snowball arched across the yard. Amanda’s aim was perfect, hitting Sylvia’s shoulder, icy crystals spraying her face, as the ball of snow shattered apart. “This warzone is dangerous.” He laughed, walking indoors to safety.

  The smell of bacon and onions poured out. “Breakfast won’t be long!” Came Sandy’s voice from the kitchen.

  Wade peaked his head into the dinette, “do you want me to round up the troops outside?”

  “Good morning, Wade.” Sandy said welcoming him, “Please - that would be terrific.” She said opening the oven door to check on a cheese covered egg casserole.

  He wandered back outdoors, followed by his dad, to call in his snow-covered family. Wade began with a piercing whistle, followed by shouting, “breakfast, time to come in!”

  Coats, boots, mittens and hats covered the porch in a wet pile, as the kids and girls stripped away the outer layer of wet clothes. Wade helped the little guys remove boots, before they ran into the house, cheeks rosy from the cold.

  Allen stretched the kids’ damp coats over chairs on the porch, when his son asked, “Have you talked to Brooke, did Yakima see any of this snow?” His father would have checked the weather as well as the activity on the farm. Sunday was typically quiet, except during hop harvest.

  “The moisture didn’t make it over the mountain, but the cold did. Fortunately, most of the fruit is budding a little late this year. Some apricots could take damage, but everything else should be fine. Will you make it over to supervise the planting of your new hop variety this spring?” he asked, aware of Wade’s tight schedule.

  “Yeah, I plan to. It should only take three or four days tops. Just let me know the time window for the crews and I will be there.” He assured his Dad.

  “Keep late March available, I’ll let you know early this week.” Wade and his father heard the clink of dishes as the meal was making it to the table. They sat to join the family gathering. Sausage and egg casserole, cinnamon rolls, fruit, and a heaping pile of bacon stretched across the table. Wade waited until the kids settled, grabbed a hot cup of coffee and took a seat between Amanda and Linnea. Sylvia’s light brown hair hung wet from the snowball war. Linnea had escaped her sister’s fate by hanging out with the little ones. Conversation wove around the party the night before, and Seth and Natalie’s wedding this summer.

  Linnea leaned over to her older brother to ask how the taproom was coming along. “Seth’s crew finished demo about two weeks ago. We had inspections on the electric system last week. Now we can finally begin construction.”

  Linnea sighed, “Are you sure you don’t need my help before the tap room is finished?”

  “Actually, sis, I was going to ask if you wanted to start sooner.”

  “Seriously! When?” she practically came out of her chair with excitement, as the conversation that had been confined to the two of them spread across the table.

  Sylvia watched her sisters face brighten, and hoped Wade was offering Linn a way off the farm. She had worried about her sister since leaving for school in Idaho.

  Brooke and her husband both worked in the hop production, but went home to their own place each night, leaving Linnea home alone with their parents. Mom and Dad were easy enough to get along with, but at twenty-four, it was past time for greater independence. Unfortunately, Allen, her dad, did not agree.

  Wade spotted his father’s reaction. That muscle in his neck pulsed as he attempted to control his irritation. Linnea may not be enthusiastic about the farm, but she knew more about the technical side of the harvest, kiln drying and cooling the hops, than anyone on staff. He hoped she kept her promise to return in late August to help.

  “The sooner the better, I’ll be in Yakima at the end of the month to oversee planting. Is that too soon to have you start?”

  “Could I just stay now? I can go with you in a couple weeks to grab my car and load my stuff. I have enough in my suitcase to get by until then.” Her enthusiasm spilled over to Amanda.

  “Mom, Linnea can stay right now, it will be fine, right? She’s already unpacked in Seth’s old room.”

  Linn looked to her aunt and uncle, “We are ready when you are, Linn, and can’t wait to spend more time with you.” Her Aunt looked forward to the change. She loved a house full of life, people, and activity.

  “This is a bit sudden,” Linn’s mother laughed, “but I can tell you are excited. Nothing like a little spontaneity to shake things up.” Karleen’s supportive smile was in stark contrast to her husband’s carefully controlled scowl.

  Later that morning, Linnea hugged her parents and Sylvia before they pulled away to head back to Yakima. Even though her mom and dad would be less than a three-hour drive away, the separation seemed momentous.

  With Sylvia and Brooke away from home, she was more than ready for this change. Wade would be working at Mosquito Creek Brewing most of the day. He invited Amanda and Linnea to stop by anytime this afternoon and take a look around the dusty progress.

  **

  Beer for breakfast didn’t seem like a bad idea for Kent and Kelsey, but Ben and the twins had roads ahead. Molly and Mandy north to Seattle, and Ben to Portland.

  Ben regretted the timing of his call to Seth and Natalie the moment Kelsey walked into Northside Grill. Something about her independence, not to mention her stunning beauty kept him hoping. He needed to get back to Portland, but wanted to explore the pull Kels still had on him. Last fall, after she hooked up with Mark, Ben gave her plenty of space, understanding that commitment could be a sticking point for Kelsey. Maybe he could learn to live with the casual relationship she preferred.

  Natalie and Seth walked in, hands entwined, joining their friends. “Thank you so much for any roll you all played in pulling off that fantastic party,” Natalie said, placing a kiss on Ben’s cheek after she leaned to hu
g each friend gathered round the table.

  Seth pulled up a chair for Natalie between himself and her brother. She was forever thankful to have him firmly back in her life, following so many years of nearly total separation. “After you bought those expensive boots I thought we would be heading down some trails today,” Seth added, “do you intend to keep them or was that purchase just part of the ruse?”

  “It was a spur of the moment purchase to kill time before the party, but I’m going to hang on to them after all. There’s a camping trip planned through work. Now, I intend to go.”

  “Break them in before the hike, or your blisters will ruin your feet,” Kent added.

  “I wanted to this weekend but this snow changed my plans. I’d better get back to Portland. I hope you don’t mind me borrowing your truck for a week.”

  Nate shook her head, “not at all. Don’t worry if your plans change, and you need to hang onto the truck for a while.”

  “Thanks. See you all later.” Ben grabbed a hug from his sister, and wanted badly to reach out for Kelsey, but decided against it. Aside from a mild flirtation, and a great deal of latent desire, nothing had ever happened between them.

  Molly and Mandy soon followed Ben out the door. Outside the snow melted quickly, dropping from evergreen branches in loud thudding clumps. All evidence of this swift end of winter storm would be swept away by evening.

  Iris braced herself for the rush of customers that always followed a snowfall. Trapped indoors, even for a short while, had the folks in Ashwood itching to get out. With each new customer, she glanced at the door, annoyed with herself for hoping Wade would walk in.

  **

  Wade lost track of time buried in emails from CCC, Coalition Craft Corporation, the group of large brewers who approached him last fall with a desire to invest in Mosquito Creek Brewing. This investment sped up his expansion to a regional beer.

  Between emails, he called his head brewer Erik at his old location. He trusted Erik and his wife Trisha to keep things running smoothly while they stayed in his home on Mosquito Creek. He planned to head back to the still operating original brewery as soon as he had a free moment, but found a greater need to stay in Ashwood close to the demands of the expansion. Bouncing back and forth ate up precious time.

  Dragging his hands through his hair, Wade stood to pace the breadth of the large space that would soon see his dreams realized. His heavy boots echoed on the wood floors as late afternoon sun sent dim-yellow rays through windows clouded by decades of dirt.

  Soon those windows would be crystalline, pouring sunlight down on bright metal tanks, and a wide wood bar lined with taps to exhibit his craft. The hidden potential in this authentic industrial space reflected everything Wade was about; hard work, honest materials, and creating something he could be proud of. As he took in the changes, his sister’s voice echoed, trying to locate her brother. “Back here!” He yelled. A moment later Amanda and Linnea appeared.

  Linnea gasped, “It looks so much bigger in here without all of the old milling equipment. Keeping these few industrial pieces was a perfect idea. It will add so much history.” Linn said as she examined several giant blades from a circular saw. She could already imagine the round blade under a sheet of glass, repurposed as a rustic table. She ran her hands over a long work-worn wood slab.

  Wade Spoke up, “that was a sled, used for milling logs into boards.”

  “I’m assuming this will become part of the bar?” he nodded as she wandered over to take a closer look at an ancient band saw, towering above her, cast iron wheels frozen in place.

  Wade appreciated his sister’s eye for design, “there is an entire building full of this stuff. Honestly I’m surprised it was never cashed in for scrap.”

  “I’m so thankful it wasn’t. Thank you, Wade, for trusting me. I will do my best to make sure your vision is realized.” She hugged her brother, and Amanda understood precisely how much this meant to Linnea. A few months earlier Seth, with Natalie’s encouragement, had asked her to handle photography and web design for Whitewater Homes. Since that time, her responsibilities in his business steadily increased. Seth’s belief in her meant everything.

  “I’ve got a few things to catch up on next door,” Amanda said, “take your time and come on over and find me when you’ve finished.”

  “Sounds great Amanda, we won’t be too long.” Wade answered as he followed his sister around the space answering her well thought out questions.

  Linnea took her time looking over each detail. Before they left for the evening, Wade wanted to show her the tiny place he currently called home. He led her round the outside of the old mill, spotting the ancient metal beehive burner on the way.

  As she stood staring he asked, “Do you think we could use an image of this thing for marketing?” The iconic, rusting cone structure towered fifty feet above the mill. Once used to burn sawdust and wood scraps in a hot-ashen cauldron, some saw this steel cone as nothing but an eyesore.

  “Absolutely. I’m not sure many outside the northwest would recognize the shape, but I think the cone is so ugly it’s beautiful.” Linn nodded, still gazing skyward.

  Avoiding puddles in the gravel lot, still dotted with melting snow, Wade led Linnea to his temporary home. Opening the door, Linnea stepped in and almost tripped over a dainty pair of flats just inside the threshold. Her raised eyebrows prepared him for what was coming, “and these shoes belong to?” was all she said.

  Damn, he had hoped to keep the night with Iris private, at least until he could figure out what they both might want going forward. “Not a big deal, sis, nothing to tell.” He lied, hoping to placate her interest.

  “Not buying it, if it was nothing you would have just told me her name. Was she the woman you were dancing with last night? The tall brunette that was helping you behind the bar? Please tell me you aren’t hooking up with an employee.” Her disappointment all over her face.

  “She’s not an employee.”

  “I knew it!” she laughed, having sneakily obtained her information, “Who is she?”

  “This doesn’t get back to Amanda, or leave this room.”

  “Understood.”

  “Iris, her name is Iris. She owns the grill at the other end of town. We’ve known each other for years, her place carries Mosquito Beer, and I have dinner there more often than I should.”

  “Often, because you wanted a chance to see her?”

  “No, I don’t have time to cook. Until last night our contact was always professional, friendly but…”

  “when you asked her to dance…” Linnea’s lips curved into a knowing smile.

  “Yeah, she moved like a dream.” As he reflected on the way she felt in his arms, his expression changed.

  “I get it. Even the girls thought she moved…”

  “Like liquid heat.” He finished the thought for her, lost for moment in his memories of the wicked night he had spent with Iris.

  “Not exactly the words I would have chosen, Wade. But, vividly accurate. Even if I didn’t need quite that much information. I hope you’ve talked to her today.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Coward.”

  He just stared at his sister, and inwardly agreed. Yeah, he was being a coward. “I’ll go over to see her near closing. I want to talk to her, not send some awkward text.”

  “Good plan. Wade, you might want to change your shirt, you’re not really dressed for impressing a woman,” she teased.

  He looked down. His t-shirt was grimy with dirt from the construction site. He was thankful for his sister. She had his best interest in mind, especially when she gave uncensored advice.

  ***

  Iris wiped down the long expansive bar, thankful her place was finally clearing out. A couple groups still occupied tables. Unfortunately, one near the back looked like they may stay awhile. They were regulars, and she worked around them to ready the bar for the following day. Moving from table to table, she gathered bottles of condiments to refill at t
he bar.

  She was beginning to drag from her lack of sleep. Iris looked forward to reading as she soaked in a steamy lavender scented bath tonight. If she could stay awake, she might catch a romantic movie while drifting off. Wade may have made her sore in the best possible way, but his silence left her nerves frayed. Iris stretched to release some of the tension that always settled into her shoulders when she obsessively worried.

  A husband and wife paid their bill and got up to leave. She waved and wished them a good night as they pushed the door open, wishing the last clump of customers would soon follow. Before the door swished shut, a strong hand stopped the momentum. Backlit by outdoor lights, Wade’s outline filled the entry - broad shouldered, tall, and commanding.

  He quickly scanned the bar, and spotted some guys he knew hanging out near the back, but walked straight for the bar stool farthest from them. Iris studied him, her gaze lost in his easy strides. She hoped last night was more than a onetime event, because he was tempting her to lose another night’s sleep just by walking across the room. Taking a deep breath, she approached him slowly, enjoying the tempting sly smile that tipped the corners of his mouth.

  “Iris.”

  “Wade.” Her eyes danced, and cheeks flushed. God, he loved it when a woman blushed. He visualized every place she was turning that pleasing shade of pink.

  “Would you like anything?” she asked, her smile teasing him now that she had read his features, confident last night would not be an isolated incident.

  “Anything?” he laughed, “yes, but for now, just coffee.”

  “Let me make a fresh pot. I’ll have a cup too, if you plan on staying a while.”

  “Staying as long as you’ll have me.” He said quietly, heat in his gaze, as she put fresh grounds in the coffee maker.

  FOUR

  Iris woke in the dark, trapped under the weight of Wade’s muscular arm. She seldom let men spend the night, and thought sharing her private space with him might make her nervous. She was surprised to find his presence comforting. The urge to rush Wade out the door was not the first thought to raise in her mind.