Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
T he Pelletier maple farm sat on the far reaches of the county. Though Jenna was now an Archer, she and her husband both worked the farm. Jenna dwelled inside doing office work and dealing with customers and shipping while her husband oversaw much of the manual labor her father was too old for. Georgette had no idea what that was, but she was interested to find out. All she knew about maple syrup was that it came from trees and needed to be boiled. What did they do now, in the off season?
A lot, as it turned out.
No other customers were at the farm when Burke and Georgette pulled up. The storefront was small, since most of their maple went toward commercial production for big stores and national markets. But they maintained a small storefront that sold their line of maple products, as well as fresh eggs and some local goatmilk soaps and beeswax candles. Basically everything anyone who kept livestock tended to have on hand to sell. Georgie was interested in all of it, but Burke was a man on a mission. Jenna, apparently alerted by the crunch of their tires on the long gravel lane, stood and exited the office, her smile of welcome turning apprehensive when she saw Georgette and Burke exit his car.
“Oh, it’s you,” she greeted them.
Georgette had no idea how to reply to that, so she let Burke take the lead, trying not to hide behind him as they made the short walk to the building.
“Georgie told me this is the place to go for maple syrup,” he said. If Jenna noted the odd intensity and harsh scrutiny, she didn’t let it show. Instead her face once again resumed a professional smile as she eased aside, welcoming them toward the building.
“We have a lot of products. Please come in. Are you looking for anything in particular?” The question was directed toward Burke. His eyebrows scrunched together.
“It’s not for me. It’s for Georgie. You know she’s a chef, right?”
Jenna waved her hand like a gaggle of gnats circled her face. “Right, she cooks breakfast for people. I know.”
He tipped his head. “She’s a classically trained pastry chef, specializing in French pastry, and could literally work for the finest restaurants in the entire world. She has incredible connections. I’m surprised you didn’t know that. It would seem like you two have a lot in common; one of you makes a food item and one of you knows what to do with it.”
“Oh, I guess I didn’t realize…” Jenna trailed off, her hand going to her flawless hair, giving it a nervous pat. She cleared her throat. “Of course, that’s great, Georgie. How can I help you?” She said the last five words the way people sometimes do, loudly and with so much enunciation that Georgie almost couldn’t understand them.
“I’m still trying to decide what I need,” Georgette said. She wanted to buy things, eggs, syrup and honey especially, but there was some little part of her that didn’t want to support Jenna, who had done so little to support her over the years. She supposed that was petty. On the other hand, she didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard to gain Jenna’s support and get on her good side. Jenna had an entire posse of friends ready and willing to do her bidding. She had always been that type, a queen bee. While Georgie had remained mostly ignored, Elyse had far too often been in Jenna’s crosshairs. It was hard not to remember that now, hard to be the bigger person. But Georgie had always considered herself kind, mostly because she knew how it felt to be on the receiving end of so much unkindness. For that reason she made herself pick up a carton of eggs, a large jar of honey, and a half gallon of maple syrup. The syrup and honey were expensive and would strain her budget, but she also immediately thought of a half dozen recipes that would make good use of them.
“It’s quiet out here,” Burke noted, while Georgie strolled the shop and inspected things.
“It’s the off season,” Jenna said.
“What happens then? You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve never seen maple production in person. I’m kind of an idiot when it comes to this stuff.” He aimed for self-deprecating, but it was hard to view him as an idiot in any setting. Burke was one of those people who radiated control, and maybe that was what Georgie found so comforting about him.
“I’d love a tour, if that’s possible,” Georgie echoed, coming up beside Burke to offer support. He rested his arm on her shoulders, as if they were a couple on a date. Jenna’s sharp, assessing gaze bounced between them. It was clear she wanted them gone, but she picked up her walkie talkie and pressed the button.
“Mitchell, I’ve got some customers who’d like a short tour, if you’re available.”
Mitchell, Georgie knew, was her husband.
The walkie crackled and then Mitchell’s voice said, “Sure. Send ‘em out.”
He sounds much more cheerful than his wife, Georgie thought. Jenna, with a sour look that was close to a sneer without being a sneer, motioned them toward the door. “Head toward the barn, he’ll meet you.”
“Thanks,” Georgie said.
Jenna gave her a tight smile that looked fake, but that was nothing new.
Georgie took a step away but then remembered her purchases. “Oh, wait, I need to pay for these.”
“I’ve got it,” Burke said, handing Jenna the correct amount of cash from his wallet.
“No, you don’t have to,” Georgie said, feeling bad. He was currently out of work and also renovating her attic. There was no way she wanted him to pay for her expensive ingredients.
Burke made no reply, beyond gathering Georgie’s items and holding them bundled in his arms like a baby. She would have beleaguered the point, but he strode toward the door. Georgie trotted dutifully behind him, tossing one last glance at Jenna. Jenna, meanwhile, stared at Burke’s departing back with a frown. She caught Georgie watching her and pasted on her fake, tight smile, adding a little wave that seemed more like a brushoff, but maybe Georgie was being overly sensitive. She hadn’t said anything mean or negative, and that was something.
Burke deposited Georgie’s food in the car.
“You don’t have to pay for my things, honestly. I have money,” Georgie said, fishing for her wallet in the crossbody purse slung over her side.
“Good for you,” Burke said. “Come on.” He took her hand, urging her forward.
Georgie sighed, wondering what she did for entertainment before he arrived. She could hardly remember life pre-Burke, and that was odd. He hadn’t been here that long, but somehow he had become the center of everything, her inn, her daily schedule, her weekend free time. He had oozed his way into every crevice and she still had no idea who he was or what he was to her, specifically.
They walked into a large wooden barn with a cement floor but, unlike other barns, this one did not smell of animals. Instead a gentle sweet smell hung in the air, the remainder from long maple boils of the past. A man rounded the corner and greeted them with a smile, hand outstretched toward Burke. “Hi, I’m Mitchell. Jenna said you wanted a tour?”
“If it’s not too much trouble,” Burke said.
“Nah, I’m happy to. And it will just take a few minutes.” He turned his back to them and said something Georgie couldn’t catch.
“He said we’ll start out back,” Burke interpreted. To Mitchell he added, “She’s hearing impaired. If you could face her when you talk, that would be great. She reads lips.”
“Oh, sorry,” Mitchell said, tossing Georgie a sheepish smile. “I’ll try to remember. Poke me if I forget.” He tossed Georgie a little wink, but it felt more friendly than flirtatious. Cotton was like that, eking charm on everyone he came in contact with, more because he couldn’t help it than because he meant to. With a wife like Jenna, he probably has to be extra friendly to make amends, Georgie thought and then felt bad for the uncharitable attitude. In reality she had no idea what their marriage was like. People could hide a lot. Maybe Jenna’s life was secretly tough and her rude exterior was a reaction to stress.
“So, this,” Mitchell paused and pointed toward a large woods behind the barn, “is the beginning of all our maples. We tap a few thousand trees, over multiple acres. In the old days my in-laws used to go tree by tree, collecting sap. Now they all run on a central line to a few tanks. That’s what we do during the off season, check lines. We have a few miles of lines, as you can imagine. It’s a lot to maintain, but still not as much as checking each individual tree and collecting sap. When my wife’s great grandparents started the place, they used a horse and sleigh. Now we have snowmobiles and four wheelers. Lots more fun than the critters.” Here he tossed Georgie another wink.
“All the sap runs to the tanks, and then those tanks run to the evaporator.”
“Why do you evaporate?” Georgette asked.
“Good question,” Mitchell said, nodding. “Maple sap contains a lot of water. You need to get rid of that to get to the good stuff. Boiling works, but it takes time and energy. By using the evaporator first, we save endless hours of boiling. After the evaporator it either goes into storage until we have enough to boil or it gets boiled off immediately. As you can imagine, our batches are large.” He led them back into the barn and pointed out several room-sized tanks with dials and gauges on them. “Everything is automated, but previously it was all done the old fashioned way, once upon a time. My father-in-law stayed up many nights with a thermometer, watching the syrup so it didn’t burn. We still do it the old fashioned way once a year, for school kids who take a field trip tour. Not going to lie, I love it. I remember taking that field trip when I was a kid and thought it was the greatest. Never thought I’d be doing it for a living.” He shook his head, smiling.
“Do you ever get tired of syrup?” Georgie asked.
“Nope, never. I put it on everything, even put it in my coffee. I’m our best customer.” He added another wink for good measure, but seemed to think better of it when Burke shifted his weight. Mitchell stood taller and cleared his throat. “Anyway, that’s pretty much it. We gather the syrup and boil it. The techniques have only changed a little in the last hundred years. Pretty simple stuff.”
“Does it have to undergo an inspection?” Burke asked.
“No. It’s self-regulated,” Mitchell said. “We use a light spectrometer to grade it, declare any buddy or off flavors.”
“Really?” Burke said, clearly surprised.
Mitchell nodded. “Of course if we don’t do a good job, we don’t get repeat customers. It’s a small world, US maple production, and word spreads. If your quality goes down, no one wants what you’ve got to sell. There’s a sort of internal pressure that keeps standards high.”
Burke nodded, but Georgie could tell he was unconvinced. “Well, thanks for this. Georgie, did you have any questions?”
Mitchell’s brows rose. “Georgie? Brody’s sister?”
“Yes,” she said, wary now. Jenna and Brody dated, but it was forever ago, in high school. Still she was relieved when Mitchell’s smile grew. “Tell him I said hey. Haven’t seen him in forever.”
“Will do,” Georgie agreed, tossing him a relieved smile. “Thank you for this. It was very informative.”
“My pleasure,” Mitchell said. He gave them a friendly wave and wandered out the back side of the barn.
Burke took one more studying look around the interior of the barn and then led Georgie back to his car.
“You look aggrieved,” she said, once they were buckled.
His brows rose in the you-might-be-delusional look she was becoming accustomed to. “What does aggrieved look like?”
“Like you were trying to swallow a grape and got a cantaloupe by mistake instead,” she said.
Burke scratched his temple. “I don’t know how to respond to most of what comes out of your mouth.”
“What did you think of all that?” she asked, flicking her hand toward the maple farm as she changed the subject.
Burke looked in the direction of the barn, too. “I don’t know yet. I don’t like her, but maybe that’s because of you.”
“Me?” Georgie said, surprised. “Why me?”
He scowled in her direction, though she didn’t think the scowl was meant for her. “She treated you like yesterday’s kitty litter.”
Georgie chortled. “You thought my grape to cantaloupe analogy was flawed, and that’s what you come up with? Used kitty litter?” Even though she teased him, inside she fluttered with pleasure. No one had ever taken her side against Jenna before. Even Brody had acted like Jenna’s rudeness was a fact of life Georgie would have to live with, the high cost of small town life.
Burke, though.
Burke made her wonder if everyone had undervalued her, herself included. Maybe sometimes it took an outsider to see things from a different perspective and shake up the status quo. If that were the case, what did Burke need Georgie to see about him?
“Why are you staring at me?” he asked.
“I’m trying to find your hidden gifts,” she admitted.
“Impossible. They’re too numerous to quantify,” he said, totally deadpan.
Georgie clutched her stomach and giggled.
“What? I’m being serious,” he said.
“I know you are. That’s what makes it funnier,” she said, wiping her streaming eyes.
“Why is that funny?” he asked, perplexed.
“Because most people play down their gifts and talents. They’re self-deprecating and modest.”
“I’m not being cocky; I’m being realistic. I happen to be very good at a large number of things,” he said.
“So far that seems true,” she said. He was both a spy and a carpenter, two very different skill sets. “Do you really think Jenna could be up to something on her family’s maple farm, just because she was a mean girl in high school?”
He turned serious eyes on her. “Georgie, if there is one thing I’ve learned through years of espionage, it’s that people don’t necessarily get better just because they get older. You have no idea what could be taking place behind closed doors.”
She shivered, pushing away the eerie feeling. “I don’t like that. I prefer to think everyone is nice, until proven otherwise. Even Jenna, I guess.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t take you with me on this. I can come back.” He put his hand on the ignition.
She rested hers on top of it. “No, it’s fine. I can do it.”
“I don’t want you to know the things I know, to see the things I’ve seen,” he said in the most earnest tone she’d ever heard from him.
“Why not?”
“Because then you wouldn’t be you, and, maybe it’s selfish, but I count on you to be you,” he said.
She studied him, trying to figure out what he meant by that. She knew, in the general sense, but he seemed so emphatic. Could her continued innocence really mean that much to him? It was a tender thought, and she didn’t much feel like tenderness at the moment, not when she was high on adventure and intrigue.
“What if you’re the mastermind and you’re doing all this to throw me off the scent?” She quirked a brow at him.
“Ha,” he laughed, that peculiar one word exclamation that qualified as amusement. He leaned closer and whispered, “If I were, you’d never find out.”
With that, Burke faced forward, Georgie still gaping at him, not certain if she felt amused or disturbed. Maybe an odd mixture of both.