Pumpkin Bears (Freshly Baked Furry Tails Book 3)

by Sable Sylvan

  “Alright — what do you two need me for today?” asked Pepper.

  “I thought we could all go over some plans for the building. Will Patricia mind if we use the deck?” said Oliver. He walked over to a bunch of stuff that was in a pile — a toolbox, a binder, and something that looked like an archer’s quiver. He grabbed the binder and quiver.

  “Patricia wouldn’t care — but there’s a meeting room if you’d prefer that,” said Pepper.

  “On a nice day like this?” asked Peter, stretching.

  “You…like this weather?” asked Pepper, looking over Peter, who was wearing a thin cotton plaid shirt.

  “Of course — best season of the year,” said Peter. Pepper had to admit that Peter had some okay opinions.

  “Alright — then it’s settled,” said Olive. “Come on.”

  Oliver picked a table and put his stuff down. He opened the quiver. Inside, there was a set of plans, rolled up. They weren’t formal blueprints. There were a bunch of sketches.

  “This is the pumpkin patch,” explained Oliver. “Here’s where we are, on the deck. I’ve drawn in some tables for scale.”

  “You had table measurements?” asked Pepper.

  “I wasn’t just twiddling my paws when you were busy getting stalked by that bear in the pumpkin patch,” said Oliver.

  “I, uh…you remember that?” asked Pepper, blushing.

  She felt a hand on her back. She looked up. Peter was looking at her.

  “It’s okay,” Peter reassured her. “Bears can be very scary.”

  “Whatever,” said Pepper, brushing Peter’s arm off her back. “Okay. So, these plans…”

  “I want to build the two decks we talked about, right…here,” said Oliver.

  “So close to the booth?” asked Pepper, pointing at the very clearly labeled booth. “And should the booth be so close to the road?”

  “If everything’s close together, then people can move efficiently from the register to the deck and then back to the road,” explained Oliver. “It also leaves you more room for the pumpkin patch.”

  “Nah, that won’t work,” said Peter.

  “And what would you know about carpentry?” asked Oliver.

  “I don’t know jackshizz about it — but what I do know is retail,” said Peter. “What you’re going to want to do is have space before the register to display product, and have room to display product around the decks.”

  “That makes no sense,” said Oliver. “We can just display the product…here.” Oliver tapped a space that was far away from the road and just past where the decks would go.

  “You want people to have to walk by the products to encourage them to buy them,” said Peter. “Field trip time.”

  “Field trip?” asked Pepper.

  “Come on,” said Peter, taking Pepper by the hand. His grip was warm, and her hands were cold. She told herself that was the only reason she was letting him be so forward.

  “Alright, this is the entrance to the bakery,” said Peter, loosening his grip on Pepper’s hand. “What do you see?”

  “A door and a register,” said Oliver.

  “Okay — and what’s between them?” asked Peter.

  “Some tables and chairs,” said Oliver.

  “And what’s before that?” asked Peter.

  “A display case,” said Oliver. “And…I guess that stand of jams and shizz.”

  “Exactly,” said Peter, walking the group back to their table. “We want to make people walk by a bunch of enticing stuff before they get to the register, and make them watch it while they eat. When you go to the grocery store, there’s all that junk in the check-out lane — magazines, gum, soda. That’s all there to make you make some impulse purchases.”

  Pepper retook her seat. “You two are both forgetting something. The pumpkin patch isn’t some grab and go convenience store…but it’s also not a bakery or a grocery store. It’s a frikkin’ pumpkin patch.

  “So?” asked Oliver.

  “The way you sell products matters,” said Pepper. “I agree with Peter — we do need to have some products before the booth, and around the deck. But, we can’t let that distract from the pumpkin patch, for a few reasons.”

  Pepper took a second and surveyed the patch. “If this plot ends up being Bear Claw Bakery: Backyard Edition, nobody’s going to talk about the pumpkin patch. Next, if people don’t talk about the pumpkin patch, we won’t sell pumpkins.”

  Pepper took a pause and looked back at the bears. “Third — if we don’t sell pumpkins, what we’re gonna have is a bunch of mushy rotten pumpkins that not only stink and look bad but tell people we couldn’t get our shizz together and sell the dang pumpkins! Most of those pumpkins are to be used for baking, but some are decorative. I don’t want cute tiny gourds rotting away. It’s a waste, and it’s disrespectful to the farm workers that worked so hard on growing them!”

  “Okay — so you know a lot about pumpkins and the bakery,” said Peter. “Color me impressed.”

  “Of course I know about them!” said Pepper, very annoyed.

  “I know — and that’s what I’m pointing out,” said Peter. “It’s a compliment. Take the dang compliment.”

  Before Pepper could reply, somebody came out of the bakery. Pepper turned. Patricia was holding a tray with four slices of pie, four forks, and some freshly whipped cream. The slices of pumpkin pie were perfectly dressed. The pie didn’t look like it had been in the oven too long, and Pepper could see gingerbread crumbs peeking out of the sides of the slices.

  “You ready to try your Frankenstein pie?” asked Patricia.

  “If the monster is Frankenstein’s monster, and the doctor is Frankenstein…then am I the baker named Frankenstein if this is Frankenstein pie?” mused Pepper.

  “I won’t even try to follow that line of thinking,” said Oliver.

  “Well — dig in!” said Patricia. “Let us know what you think.”

  Everyone dug in. Pepper tried the first slice of her pie. The first thing she tasted was the crumbly bottom of the pie crust — just like a gingerbread cookie. Then, there was the sweet taste of the pumpkin filling, with a crunch from the crumbs, and the soft whipped cream with the pumpkin and gingerbread sauce adding a sticky sweetness — a dessert course within the feast that was the dessert.

  “Okay…before I give my opinion, what do you two think?” asked Patricia.

  “I think it’s pretty frikkin’ great,” said Oliver.

  “I’ve been to a lot of places and had many pies,” said Peter. “I wouldn’t be surprised to find this served at a down-home diner…”

  Pepper started steaming.

  “…Or, at a very elegant New American restaurant in New York City, or, at a farmer’s side-of-the-road booth in New England,” finished Peter. “It’s a universally appealing pie, with something to offer for all palates, and for the range of people living in this town.”

  It was Oliver’s turn to steam. Why did Peter have to try and outdo him — in front of Oliver’s own mate?

  Okay — so technically, Oliver had no proof Pepper was his. He hadn’t claimed her, and he hadn’t even told her why he was sure she was meant to be with him, but still. There was no frikkin’ way Peter was Pepper’s mate — for about a billion reasons, starting with the fact that she was destined, no, Fated, to be with Oliver.

  “I like it a lot,” said Patricia. “We should start selling it soon.”

  “It’s trash, and we cannot offer this for sale,” said Pepper.

  “What!?” asked Patricia. “What the heck is wrong with it?!”

  “For starters, it’s too sweet, and the pumpkin flavor was lost in the baking process when the spices came out, and the sugars caramelized,” said Pepper, poking at her pie. “If we go more light-handed on the whipped cream and sauce, the pie won’t look as good, so the sweetness issue is with the pie itself. I don’t think the gingerbread crumbles were crunchy enough — but if I make drier gingerbread, they might fall apart entirely. It will
take me a while to make something edible. Sorry.”

  “I think it’s a pretty frikkin’ fantastic pie,” said Oliver.

  “I agree,” said Peter. “I would buy this — I’d buy a dozen of these.”

  “I think you’re being too hard on the pie — and yourself,” said Patricia.

  “I want to do this pie justice,” said Pepper.

  “Alright,” said Patricia. “Oliver, mind if I borrow Peter real fast for some heavy lifting in the kitchen?”

  “Not at all,” said Oliver.

  Peter and Patricia left. Oliver pulled the plans back out.

  “So, in this binder, you’ll find a bunch of wood samples,” explained Oliver. “There’s also some pics of previous jobs we’ve done that might give you some inspiration. Otherwise, you can trust my opinion and just let me run with it.”

  “I trust your opinion,” said Pepper. “I just want to make sure we still have a pumpkin patch — even if the lot will be used for flex space.”

  “Do you…trust my opinion on other things?” Oliver probed.

  “I mean, depends on the thing,” admitted Pepper. “I don’t know you that well.”

  “So, that’s the thing — I want to change that,” said Oliver. “Would you want to go with me to the Grizzlyfir cook-out on the lawn tomorrow? We’re showing a scary movie on the outdoor screen. There’s food, beer, should be a good time.”

  “Do cabs go up the mountain?” asked Pepper. “I don’t want to have a dry night.”

  “No — but we have designated drivers that can take you home,” said Oliver. “I can arrange that for you in advance. I can even go down and pick you up before we party.”

  “Then it sounds like a date,” said Pepper, playing it cool, and hoping that Oliver couldn’t hear her heart bouncing at a million beats a second. She’d thought Oliver was cute, sensed he had a thing for her too — and that didn’t require any paranormal abilities. She hadn’t thought he’d ask her on a date, not yet, but she’d been more than merely pleasantly surprised.

  “So you do realize that I do want to — ” started Oliver.

  “Yes, Oliver — I know that when a guy asks a gal to a cook-out to watch spooky movies, and when he’s nervous about it, it probably means he likes her, and probably wants to take her on a date,” said Pepper, before opening her wallet and passing Oliver two of her business cards. “Here. I only have one phone, so that’s my personal line and my business line. Keep one and give one to Peter in case he has to text either of us in an emergency. Now, back to these plans…”

  Chapter Three

  Pepper was putting the pumpkin gingerbread cookies out for display when she heard two kids mention the G-word: ‘ghost.’

  Her ears pricked up. She knew eavesdropping on customers was rude, but, well, they were in a public space, and paranormal pumpkin activity was pertinent to Pepper’s pumpkin patch.

  “You don’t think it’s real, do you?” asked a teenage girl to a teenage boy.

  “All I’m saying is, my grandma’s got shifter blood, and she says when she was a kid, these mountains were haunted,” said the boy.

  “The whole mountain?” asked the girl. “That’s a lot of ghosts.”

  “You know what I mean — what she means,” said the boy. “I’m just saying that ghosts don’t seem that crazy.”

  “They’re like Santa Claus, Paul Bunyan, vampires, and reasonably priced plus size prom dresses — non-existent,” said the girl with a huff, making an obvious hint to the boy. “But…if you’re scared of ghosts, I guess I could be your paranormal bodyguard.”

  “What’re you gonna do? Karate chop them in half?” asked the boy.

  “Look — that pumpkin patch is haunted, and you know your grandmama’s gonna send you out to get pumpkins for the carving party,” said the gal. “I’m just saying that I’ll come with you to pick them out — so you don’t get scared by any ghosts.”

  “Did you just ask yourself out on a date with me?” teased the boy, which was Pepper’s cue to stop listening any further. How had the rumor about the ghost grown in recent weeks? There were always rumors about paranormal goings-ons in Port Jameson. Heck, there were rumors that the Hemlock Crew was really a vampire coven. Pepper knew the stories were silly…but did the rest of the town know that they were? And would they scare people away from the pumpkin patch, making all Oliver and Peter’s hard work a waste?

  Oliver and Peter had worked on putting stakes out in the patch to plan out the space and see if it made as much sense in the real world as it did in the sketches. A few modifications were made, and they did walkthroughs with Pepper, trying to visualize how the final booth and set of decks would look once they were built. They practiced buying pumpkins from Pepper, going to the deck to have a bite, and browsing the patch. They were going to do another round of imaginary playtesting before they decided to truly break ground on the project.

  Peter went home immediately after his time was up, but Oliver stuck around. After all, he had a hot date. While Pepper arranged the cookies in the window display, he sipped a cup of pumpkin spice flavored black tea.

  The kids got their cookies and left, leaving the bakery quiet.

  “So…ghosts,” said Oliver.

  “You heard that too?” asked Pepper.

  “Kinda hard not to,” admitted Oliver. “You think there’s any truth to the ghost rumors?”

  “Bah — of course not!” hissed Pepper. “I’m too old to believe in that kinda shizz.”

  “Oh, okay,” said Oliver. “You’re not even just a little bit scared?”

  “You already have a date with me,” said Pepper with a chuckle. “Speaking of which…how does this look?”

  “Like I said the last five times, I think it looks perfect,” said Oliver.

  “Well, maybe if I — ” started Pepper, leaning down to adjust the display. She stopped when she felt a whap on her bottom. Pepper turned and looked over her shoulder. Patricia was behind her, with her trusty broom.

  “Now, what did I tell you about getting out of here?” asked Patricia.

  “To…do it,” mumbled Pepper. “But I just have to — ”

  “The longer you stay, the longer I have to stay, to close up shop,” said Patricia. “Now, unless you want another dust mark on your heiny, I suggest you, like the cats yowling on my fence at night, better git!”

  “Fine, fine!” said Pepper, before looking to Oliver. “I hate to ask you this, but…how bad’s the damage?”

  “The what?” asked Oliver. “Your ass looks fine to me.”

  “Oliver!” hissed Pepper.

  “Pepper!” Oliver hissed back jokingly. “What’s the big deal? It’s a butt! A behind! A bottom! An ass!”

  “Okay, but, this is my place of work,” said Pepper. “On a scale of ‘maybe she fell in some flour’ to ‘this BBW zombie crawled her way out of a grave,’ how dusty am I?”

  “I’d say, ‘sexy post-apocalyptic badass bitch,’” said Oliver.

  “I can work with that,” said Pepper.

  “Unless you wanna look like a dust-covered zombie, I suggest you — ” started Patricia, but before you could finish, the two did indeed ‘git.’

  Pepper exited Oliver’s car and looked around. She was glad she wasn’t over or underdressed for the occasion. She wasn’t sure if the movie watching party would be a pajama party or a costume party or heck, even a fancy party with fancy dresses, but it was just a regular movie watching night. Everyone there looked like they’d just gotten off their shift. People grabbed food, grabbed beer, grabbed seats, and took a load off.

  The Grizzlyfir Crew’s lodge, Camp Grizzlyfir, had a large lawn. On that lawn, there was an inflatable screen, various seating items, and to the side, food and other movie-going necessities, like blankets, given the weather. Pepper had been to Grizzlyfir a few times before, but never for an event like the movie night.

  “Oh, gosh — I guess tonight’s movie’s popular,” said Oliver with a frown. “Would you mind grabbing us a sea
t?”

  “Any preference?” asked Pepper.

  “Dealer’s choice,” said Oliver. “I’m gonna grab the other stuff.”

  “Should I wave so you can find me?” asked Pepper.

  “You think I could forget those curves?” asked Oliver, motioning a surprisingly realistic yet flattering silhouette of Pepper’s body. The motions of his hands traced out a large form, but one he obviously found sensual. She spotted the marks on his hands. Of course — because he was a bear, he liked his women big. She knew it was a stereotype, but, she knew that the last two gals at the bakery that had gone out with Grizzlyfir guys were curvy. Those gals had also ended up becoming those bears’ fated mates…but they also ended up in ménages — with Hemlock Crew bears completing the trio.

  Pepper thought about that as she scanned the area for a pair of seats. She saw some couples in matching sets of camping chairs, but…the rest were in big all-weather bean bags, the kind that could get hosed down after getting muddy. All the couples on those bean bags looked like they were keeping each other quite warm in the soft chill of the autumn night.

  Was it too forward of her to pick a couple’s bean bag for them? Well…Pepper decided it might be. They’d be pushed together, so close that they’d be touching. Heck, she’d practically be sitting on top of him! That was rather intimate for a first date!

  Regardless of Pepper’s thoughts on picking a couple’s bean bag rather than an alternate seating option, the reality was, she had one option, and one option only. That option was filled with beans, and it was in the shape of a bag.

  Pepper made her way to one of the empty bean bags and hoped she’d be able to see the screen. She grabbed a bean bag and looked around. Oliver had a bundle underneath his arms and was grabbing them some food.

  “Hey, babe — can you grab the blanket for me?” Oliver asked sheepishly. “I don’t wanna drop it on the ground, and, uh — ”

  “Your paws are full, I get it,” said Pepper with a laugh. “Typical man — tries to carry everything at frikkin’ once.”