Her words made sense but Liz hadn’t eliminated the idea that he was an opportunist.
“Plus, he comes from a good family,” Polly added firmly. “But you’re not looking too convinced. Did you have a disagreement with Brian? Has he said something that bothers you?”
“No, not really.” Liz shrugged. “I’ve barely had a conversation with him. It’s just that I have this feeling that he’s not everything he appears to be. You know what I mean?” She didn’t want to outright accuse him of underhandedness because it was just a gut feeling. She had no real facts.
“I think you have him all wrong,” she said, giving Liz a pat on the shoulder and a reassuring smile. “You’ll see. He’s a nice fellow who likes to do the right thing wherever he can.”
“Mom and Dad seem to like him, but I don’t think they know anything about him other than who his grandparents were. Do you remember him visiting here over the years? He isn’t familiar to me at all.”
“I’m not sure he was here very much as a child or as an adult. I know his folks lived in Boston and that’s where he lived too before he came to Maple Ridge. At least I think that’s what I heard.”
“Well, I don’t know,” Liz replied. “I mean, I’m just not sure. It seems odd to me that he’d come back and take over his grandparents' place when he doesn’t have any real roots here.”
Polly smiled and raised an eyebrow. “You mean sort of like turning your grandparents’ home into a bed and breakfast, Betsy?”
It had been years since anyone had called by her childhood nickname, and it did soften the mild accusation aimed at her. But she still felt defensive about her opinions.
“He wanted to buy this house and the farm. I couldn’t let that happen. It’s been in our family too long.”
“Well it looks like each of you is doing what’s best so it’s possible he feels the same way about the Stanford place as you do about this one. I don’t know that for a fact, but it seems likely. Perhaps he didn’t want to see this home go to someone from outside the neighborhood. I can’t imagine he’s made any negative comments to you, has he?”
“No, he hasn’t. But my instinct tells me to keep my distance. I’ve tried to readjust my thinking but,” she hesitated then decided to say what was on her mind. “He appears to me to be an opportunist.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” She frowned at Liz. “He’s been working really hard to reestablish the sugarhouse and his business. And I haven’t heard that he’s buying up any more land or anything. Not that he shouldn’t, you know.”
“I’m not wishing him bad luck. I just need to wait and see.”
“I don’t see that you have anything to worry about.”
“Okay, so I know I have trust issues.” Without a doubt, her mom must have confided in Polly about the situation with the embezzlement court case in New York. Actually, anyone in Maple Ridge who read the newspapers knew about it. But Polly knew more than most so Liz was okay with bringing it up. Truthfully, it was more than okay. And she was relieved to say it out loud because she definitely had trust issues. Some people seemed to be trustworthy when truthfully they were not. She’d learned the hard way that those people could turn your life upside down.
“Your instincts are bruised, Betsy. Being friendly won’t hurt and accepting friendliness won’t either.” Polly wasn’t known for open displays of affection but when she squeezed Liz’s arm gently, it felt like a hug.
“I know you’re right.” She nodded, affirming that she would try, and at that moment she felt a little bit of weight lift from her mind.
“Good. And now it’s time I get back home. I think you’re on track with the stove.” She turned to the dog who was comfortably stretched out on the floor under the table while he kept a watchful eye on Bess who continued to keep a safe distance from him.
“Max. It’s time to go. Come along.”
After Liz watched them climb into the truck and back out of the drive, she pulled her list from her front jeans pocket. The cookstove was in good working order now. She could still feel the heat when she held her hand above the surface. As for the rest of her list, it was the usual upkeep and maintenance, weeding flowers, watering, and pitching muck in the barn and that last item couldn’t wait any longer.
The rest of the day was spent pitching the manure into the tractor loader, dumping it in the spreader and making a trip to the distant field to spread it. She’d taken over the chores before her folks had set out on their adventures. Now, it was just a matter of going through the moves to get it all done. At least her back no longer ached as much as that first week. She was toughening up and it felt great. Throwing down the fresh bales of straw was the best part. She had always loved climbing up the ladder to the haymow. It smelled so good, like fresh air and sunshine. And yes, there was dust but what was a sneeze now and then. When she and her two sisters were teenagers, they would rearrange some of the bales of hay and straw into chairs where they could lounge and read books. They opened the upper door so the light could pour in while it gave them a view of the distant pasture below and beyond. Well, she had no time for that kind of lounging now that she’d jumped feet first into a busy life. A busy but satisfying life, she corrected herself.
After a very late lunch that consisted of a quick sandwich, some yogurt and a cup of coffee, she immediately set to work on the rest of the items on her daily to-do list. Her father had set a high bar with all the work he’d accomplished and made it look easy in the process even with a barn full of cows. Her mother did likewise with cooking, gardening and keeping the house looking like a historical museum plus participating in all the local historical group meetings.
Liz loved this life. Why had she ever left it? Rather than answer that for the umpteenth time, she pulled out her list again. Almost done for the day. Tomorrow’s list was all about Market Day: baking in the cookstove, locating the tent from somewhere in the garage along with a couple of lawn chairs and a table, plus assembling her flyers and business cards and not to forget one of her mother’s lovely tablecloths. And those were just the highlights, not the details.
When the evening milking chores were done and she’d eaten a lite but tasty dinner, she happily took a long leisurely bath complete with scented candles and soft music. Thankfully the master bedroom had a large private bath connected to it where she could relax in total peace. Before going to bed she would update her website with a few pictures to reflect a more current look of the area. The last update had summer photos and since the foliage was beginning to turn, although just barely, she wanted to add some encouragement for those who were considering a vacation during the fall season. So far, there had been no other reservations and that was disheartening but not hopeless by any means. If the business was going to take too long to get into full swing, she would take Jenny up on her offer of a job. Working from home sounded like the best option plus she could still keep up with getting those to-do lists accomplished on her time schedule.
Claire hadn’t returned yet but then Liz didn’t expect her back until later that night. So, a little more relaxing was in order and she made herself a cup of hot aromatic tea then went to her desk in the bedroom. Bess followed her and jumped on the bed where she instantly began her grooming. Liz smiled as she watched the cat whose eyes were half closed in apparent happiness as she purred softly, occasionally making little chirpy noises. She missed having pets when she’d lived in New York. She now realized that having this kind of companionship filled a void.
After uploading her most recent photos of the property and surrounding area, she chose her favorites then opened her website to find two new reservations! Well, how about that, she thought, feeling her hopes rise. She’d been trying to ignore the fact that the tourist season had already begun and there weren’t any more guests signed up. Until now! The tide just might be changing even though it would be two weeks before these guests arrived. She smiled then sipped her tea, enjoying the aroma and the flavor. It had been a very good day.
Chapter Four
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br /> Saturday finally arrived and Liz spent the early morning loading the truck with the tent and all the paraphernalia that went with it for Market Day in Maple Ridge. Her dad had stashed it all away in the second story of the garage. Normally he was very tidy and organized but the attic of the garage was no indication of those habits. She guessed everybody had their junk room and this must have been his. In the past, they had always participated in the Market Day and indeed had been part of the group who first got it underway years ago so everything she needed was there but digging it out took some time.
Claire had come down early for her preferred breakfast of fruit and yogurt along with coffee, no sugar or cream. Liz found it disappointing that she wasn’t going to be using many culinary skills on this guest but on the other hand she was grateful for the extra time for milking chores and preparing for the big day. Although, on this morning Claire did stop by the barn after her morning run while Liz was still sitting on the stool milking Myrtie.
“So, this is how it’s done,” Claire said from the doorway.
“Oh, you startled me,” Liz gasped.
“Sorry. I thought you heard me come in.” Claire moved to the gate of the stall but was careful not to touch anything, including the cat who sat on the top rail studying the new guest.
“No, but that’s okay. I’m always deep in thought when I’m out here and I rarely hear anything.” She smiled and looked up in time to see Claire grimace just before she pulled her turtleneck up over her nose.
“And you have to clean up the piles of manure yourself?”
“Sure do.”
“Can’t you hire someone to do that?” Her voice sounded as though she was appalled at the idea.
Liz grinned while she faced the belly side of Myrtie, thinking she’d do it any day over spending another hour in an office.
“I really don’t mind. It’s enjoyable,” she replied.
“Well, I’ll leave you to your work. I think I need a shower now.” And she left.
The welcome sound of milk squirting rhythmically into the pail filled the air around her, and Liz smiled again.
“Good girl, Myrtie.”
One of the best things about quiet time in the barn was being able to let her thoughts meander without having to keep ticking things off her list. Today, she decided was one of those as she went over the events of the previous two days in her mind. She’d been plenty busy with baking all the bread and cinnamon rolls, which was another way of advertising the Maple Ridge B&B with no intention of being a moneymaker for her. But it turned out that she’d spent more time than she’d expected just firing up the wood cookstove and a lot more time trying to regulate the oven temperature. The overhead warming oven was great for raising bread dough and rolls but when it came to baking the first batch she caved in and used the oven on the electric stove. It was simply too much work to waste that many loaves due to her inabilities to conquer the cookstove temperature. In the end, the whole event turned out successful and she’d finally learned a few secrets when she used the “hints” in her mom’s recipe book.
And in the middle of all that, Brian had arrived with a load of wood, not only for the fireplace but also some kindling and small chunks for the cookstove. She hadn’t asked him to bring it, but she knew her measly pile wouldn’t last long. So, she tamped down her concerns about Brian’s neighborliness and remembered Polly’s advice about being friendly. She even returned his kindness with some friendliness of her own in the form of a thank you plus a couple of cinnamon rolls with coffee at the kitchen table and a batch to take home. The visit turned out to be more pleasant than she would have guessed but then the conversation stayed focused on their new businesses. He easily admitted that owning a business wasn’t something he’d ever planned to do but there he was knee-deep into it. And she totally understood where he was coming from.
At that moment, Claire had appeared in the kitchen doorway stating simply that she would be gone till late evening then left abruptly. Liz never required her guest to give notice of when she’d return, nevertheless she appreciated the heads-up. This seemed to signal to Brian that it was time to leave and he said he needed to get back to work, leaving her to practice her skills of starting a fire in the stove all alone. Feeling encouraged by Brian’s visit, not to mention the nicely stacked woodpile, she’d gathered up some kindling and a few small chunks of wood and got to it. Her sense of well-being had grown immensely over the past several days, leaving her to conclude that life was definitely good. Now that the milking was done, she reeled in those meandering thoughts and was anxious to head to town for Market Day.
When Liz arrived, she saw a lot of vendor type canopy tents already set up on Main Street. Most of them were open-sided but a few had dropped down canvases to keep out the wind and cold if necessary but so far it was a beautiful sunny morning with no breeze. She parked her truck in front of Polly’s tent knowing that the spot beside her had been reserved for the Maple Ridge B&B.
“What a great day!” Liz called as she unloaded all of her stuff off the truck.
Polly agreed wholeheartedly as she helped Liz set up. “It looks like we’re going to fill up both sides of the street.”
“How many do you usually have?” Liz asked as she studied the rows of the tents going up.
“Depends on the weather, you know. Last year there were about half this many,” Polly answered.
With two of them working together they had both booths set up and arranged with non-refrigerated items to sell along with the usual flyers and business cards. The coolers beneath the tables kept the rest cold and handy. After parking the truck around the corner, Liz walked back to her site but stopped occasionally to visit along the way as she looked over the crafts and goodies of the other vendors. When she reached her own booth, Polly nodded her head toward the opposite side of the street. Liz recognized the truck sitting in front of a tent. Brian Stanford. He turned and looked in their direction as though he’d felt their gazes then raised a hand and waved at them and they waved back.
Liz glanced sideways at Polly. “Just in case you’re wondering, he was over the other day and brought me a truckload of wood.” She suspected Polly might have had something to do with it.
“No,” Polly replied. “I know what you’re thinking but, no, I didn’t ask him to do that.” She shook her head and firmly pursed her lips. “He just wants to be friendly.”
“Okay. Well, I didn’t put up any fuss. I accepted the wood and thanked him.” She paused. “And it was nice of him to do that. Turns out I really needed it.”
“Good,” Polly replied as she checked her tables once again. “I think I’ll just do a little wandering around to who see else is here. I doubt if there’ll be many shoppers coming through before everyone’s all set and ready.”
But within the hour the street had filled up with potential buyers. Nearly every face was new to Liz since the crowds generally came from quite a distance. The food vendor trailers were the busiest with hot cider, coffee, and hot chocolate during the morning but that all changed by early afternoon when the aroma of typical festival foods floated along the rows of tents. As tempting as it smelled Liz preferred standing in line for one of the salads at the Java Café.
“Would you like to take turns going for lunch?” Liz asked
“No, but you go ahead and take as much time as you like. I brought my lunch and I don’t mind looking after any customers that stop at your table,” she said while she made shooing motions. “Enjoy yourself.”
“Thanks, I will,” she said and hurried off. There was so much excitement in the air she could almost feel it.
Liz saw the long line way in advance of reaching the café. The sidewalk traffic was just as crowded which made progress a stop and go thing for nearly a block. Dodging strangers here and there plus stopping to chat with a few folks that she knew took quite a while but eventually, she reached the line. When her place in line nearly reached the entrance to the café, she heard a familiar male voice speaking
from behind.
“Well, would you look who’s here,” he said in her ear, and she felt the hair rise on the back of her neck.
Barely turning her head, she replied, “I guess I could say the same thing to you.” Then she faced him. “Hello, Kevin. What brings you here?” The chill in her voice was intended to convey her dislike for him and the look he returned said he got her message.
He shrugged, “Just in the neighborhood, sort of. I’ve got a new job in Burlington and heard about this little festival and thought I’d waste some time on a nice day.” Smiling had never been his strong point, she noted. He was dressed casually which was a first, mostly because she’d never seen him in anything but a navy blue suit at work. She thought it interesting that even in casual clothes he’d chosen to wear a navy shirt with khakis.
“I heard you’ve opened a brand new business in the area. And here I’ve been thinking you were still in New York. Gloating.” His voice rose on the last word and there was anger on his face.
“Stop it!” she said in a low voice and returning his steely glare. The crowd around them stepped back as embarrassment flushed her cheeks at the scene he was creating. He had no business making a public spectacle of himself and including her in it.
“I lost my job because of you,” he went on, seemingly oblivious of her irritation with him.
“You lost your job because of what you did.” She stared him down, forcing her voice to stay low but unable to keep her growing anger from showing on her face. “Don’t bother me again. Do you hear?” With that, she turned to walk away but he stepped in front of her, blocking her exit.
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