Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
W hitney stood on the sidewalk outside of Jubilee Vegan Cafe, her heart beating faster than she wanted to admit. She looked over her shoulder, expecting her father to come storming across the street and drag her back to the diner, but nobody was watching. She took a deep breath and opened the door.
The soft chime of the bell greeted her, followed by a warm cinnamon scent she remembered from her first visit. The cafe was busy, with tables filled with locals and tourists, conversations and clinking utensils filling the air. She looked across the room, her eyes immediately landing on Tate. He stood behind the counter, chatting with a customer as he handed them a steaming bowl of soup. His smile was easy, his movements confident, and Whitney couldn’t help but admire the way he seemed to be completely at home here.
She stood near the door, not wanting to interrupt, but Tate spotted her almost instantly. His face seemed to light up, and he raised his hand to wave her over. She felt a mix of guilt and excitement, but the warmth of his smile eased her nerves, and she walked toward him.
“Whitney,” he said, stepping out from behind the counter. “I was hoping I would see you again.”
“Hey,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t want to interrupt. I just thought I’d stop by.”
“Well, I’m sure glad you did,” he said. “How about you sit down for a minute? I was going to take a break anyway.”
Before she could argue, he took her to a cozy table near the window and pointed for her to sit. A few moments later, he came back with two bowls of black bean soup and slices of cornbread on small plates.
“This is one of my favorites. It’s our special today,” he said, sliding a bowl in front of her. “Black bean soup and plant-based oil-free cornbread. Trust me, it’s a lot better than it sounds.”
She smiled as she picked up her spoon, the rich aroma of the soup making her mouth water. “I’ll take your word for it.”
She took a bite and found the flavors warm and comforting with just the right amount of spice. The cornbread was actually very moist and flavorful.
“This is actually very good,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting it to be this good.”
“See, healthy food doesn’t have to be boring,” he said, laughing.
As they ate, he leaned back in his chair. “You know, I started this place because of my grandmother.”
“Your grandmother?”
“Yeah,” he said. “She had diabetes, and it really affected her quality of life. I loved her a lot, and watching her struggle was very difficult. Made me realize how important it is to take care of your body, and food plays such a big role in that. So I got into healthy eating and decided I wanted to help other people too.”
“That’s really amazing, Tate. You’re doing something important here.”
“Thank you,” he said. “But you know, it’s not about the food completely. It’s about creating a space where people feel welcome. I want people to come and slow down for a bit, kind of like what you were saying about your wellness studio. That’s why I know you should go for it.”
She stared down at her bowl. “It’s just complicated. I told you my dad won’t support it, and I don’t have the resources to make that happen on my own.”
He leaned forward, his eyes meeting hers. “Whitney, you can’t let other people’s doubts stop you from chasing your dreams. They had their chance to chase their dreams, and you deserve the same. If it’s what you want, you’ll find a way, and if you need help figuring out the logistics, I just opened a business. I’d be happy to sit down with you and work on a business plan.”
“You’d do that?”
“Of course,” he said without hesitation. “I’ve been where you are. I know just how overwhelming all of this can feel. You don’t have to do it all alone.”
She smiled for the first time in a long time. She found someone who truly understood her. “Thank you,” she said softly.
He waved his hand. “Don’t thank me yet. How about we meet at Perky’s tomorrow and start brainstorming? My manager will have things covered here, so I’m free. You want to say around ten?”
She nodded. “I’m off from the clinic tomorrow, so that sounds perfect.”
As they finished their meal and said goodbye, Whitney felt a strange mix of emotions swirling in her gut. Guilt for sneaking away and talking to him, but also a sense of hope she hadn’t felt in years. Tate believed in her, and for the first time, she had started to believe in herself, too.
* * *
B rady leaned against the old fence post, watching as Gilbert, his constantly mischievous goat, chewed contentedly on a patch of grass. The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the farm, the fields stretching out in every direction. The beauty of the land never failed to amaze him. He wondered how other people got by without witnessing something like this every single day.
Today, the setting seemed perfect for some downtime, and Brady hoped Coop might appreciate the peaceful surroundings, even if just for a little while. Coop, whom he had invited over for the day, stood a few feet away, his hands stuffed in his pockets, staring at the newly rebuilt barn.
“Well, you’ve done a nice job out here, Brady,” Coop said, his tone softer than usual. “Looks good.”
“Thanks,” Brady replied, pointing toward the house in the distance. “You want to see the house next? We totally changed the layout when we rebuilt it after the fire.”
Coop nodded, following Brady across the gravel driveway. “I can’t imagine what it was like to lose everything in that fire,” he said quietly. “Must’ve felt like the end of the world.”
“I won’t lie, it was tough,” Brady said, opening the back door to the house. “But, you know, it gave me a chance to rethink some things and make improvements I’d been putting off for years.”
Inside, the house smelled like fresh wood and new paint. Brady led Coop through the kitchen, pointing out the new cabinets and updated appliances, and then into the living room, where large windows framed a stunning view of the mountains.
Coop let out a low whistle. “Man, that’s a view you’ve got here. Makes me wonder why I spend most of my life stuck behind a counter.”
Brady laughed. “Well, it’s not too late to start enjoying life, Coop. Plus, you can see the mountains out of the diner windows, too. You could take a day or two off every now and then. Come up here, ride some horses.”
Coop shook his head. “Nah, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I took time off. Besides, the diner needs me. Always has, always will.”
“Maybe so,” Brady said as they stepped back outside. “But it’s good to take a break every now and then. Clears your head.”
They walked into the barn, its doors creaking as Brady pushed them open. “I got the roof reinforced and added more storage,” Brady said, pointing toward the loft. “Should be set for the next twenty years, at least.”
Coop nodded, running his hand along a polished wooden beam. “It’s solid. You’ve got yourself a nice setup here, Brady.”
“Thanks,” he said, leaning against a stack of hay bales. “So, you ever think about changing things up at the diner? Trying some new stuff?”
Coop’s head snapped toward him, his eyebrow furrowing. “What in the holy heck is that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just saying,” Brady continued carefully, “maybe you could bring in some new ideas without changing what makes Coop’s special. Like, maybe you could collaborate with that new guy on something.”
Coop’s expression darkened, and he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Tate? You mean the vegan guy? He’s the reason my sales are down. Why in the world would I want to work with him?”
Brady sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Coop, I get it. Change is hard, but Jubilee’s gonna grow whether we like it or not. People are looking for variety. Maybe instead of fighting it, you could find a way to adapt.”
“Adapt?” Coop scoffed. “Why do I have to change? My diner’s been here for over forty years. People know exactly what to expect when they walk through those doors, and that’s what keeps them coming back.”
“Is it, though?” Brady asked gently. “Or is it because people know you? Because they feel like they’re with family when they’re in your place. That’s what really matters. The food is just a little part of it.”
Coop shook his head. “That’s easy for you to say, Brady. You’re not the one watching your longtime customers walk right past your door to go to some vegan place.”
“I just think you’ve got to offer more than biscuits and gravy, Coop. I’m not talking about food. People love you, man. They’d follow your lead if you decided to try something different.”
Coop’s jaw tightened. “And now Whitney’s talking about starting some silly wellness studio.”
“Well, what’s wrong with that?”
“What’s wrong with that?” Coop repeated. “This town doesn’t need all this new-age nonsense. It’s all a waste of time, and she’s better off sticking with the diner or her job as a nurse. Those are the places where she belongs.”
“Let me ask you something. When you started your diner years ago, did anyone tell you it was a waste of time?”
Coop hesitated, his shoulders stiffening.
“I bet they did,” Brady said, “and you didn’t listen, did you? You followed your dream, and look what you’ve built for yourself. Don’t you think your daughter deserves the same chance?”
“That’s different,” Coop grumbled. “She’s got a good job at that clinic. She doesn’t need to chase some pipe dream.”
“Well, maybe it’s not a pipe dream. Maybe it’s her dream. If anyone should understand that, it’s you.”
Coop stared at the barn floor, the silence stretching between them. Finally, he sighed. “I don’t know, Brady. I just… I don’t want to see her get hurt.”
Brady placed a hand on Coop’s shoulder, his grip firm. “I understand, but sometimes you have to let her try, even if she fails. That’s the best way to show her you believe in her. She’s got something special. Don’t hold her back because you’re afraid.”
“I’ll think about it,” Coop said gruffly.
“That’s all I’m asking,” Brady said. “Now, how about we go check on Gilbert? He’s probably gnawing on something he shouldn’t be.”
* * *
W hitney pulled nervously at the hem of her red cardigan as she walked into Perky’s Coffee Shop. The shop was buzzing with the usual mix of tourists and locals, and the warm scent of coffee mingled with a faint smell of pastries. She looked around the room, her stomach nervously flipping when she finally spotted Tate at a corner table with a notebook and a laptop in front of him. He caught her eye and smiled, standing and waving at her.
Taking a deep breath, she made her way to the table.
“Hey,” she said, sliding into the seat across from him.
“Hey,” he said, his smile widening. “Glad you could make it. I got us a couple of coffees. Hope you like a caramel latte. If not, I can go get you something else.”
“I love caramel lattes! They’re actually my favorite drink here,” she said, wrapping her hands around the warm cup. “Thanks.” She wondered how he knew that about her. Maybe there was a connection there, or maybe she was being silly, and it was just a safe bet that a woman would like a sweet drink.
“No problem,” he said, flipping the notebook open in front of him. “So, business plans. I figured we’d start with the basics—your goals, your vision, what you want your studio to be. Does that sound okay?”
She nodded, her nerves starting to ease slightly. “That sounds great. I’ve never even talked about it in detail with anyone, so I’m not completely sure where to start.”
“Well, we’ll take it step by step,” he said, pulling a pen from his pocket. “So, the first question is, why do you want to open a wellness studio?”
She thought for a moment, trying to put her feelings into words. “I’ve always wanted to help people. I love working at the clinic, but I want to do more than just treat symptoms after somebody is already sick. I want to create a space where people can get better—or can prevent disease altogether—using mind, body, and spirit. A place where they can come, slow down, and learn to take care of themselves.”
His pen moved quickly across the page as he focused entirely on her words. “Love that,” he said. “And what kind of services would you offer? Yoga, meditation, but what else?”
“Maybe nutrition workshops or mindfulness classes. I would even be open to herbal remedies or aromatherapy,” she said, feeling her excitement grow as she spoke. “I want it to be a one-stop shop for wellness. I want people to come from all around to visit Jubilee just to come to my place.”
He nodded as he jotted notes. “Okay, and who’s your target audience? Locals? Tourists? Both?”
“Both,” Whitney said quickly. “I think there’s such a potential to draw in visitors, but I also want it to be a great space for the community.”
“Good,” he said, his voice encouraging. “You’re already thinking about your market, and that’s a great start.”
As they continued talking and Tate asked more questions about pricing, location, and potential obstacles, she found herself opening up more than she ever had about her dream. At one point, she reached for the pen he was holding to make a note in his notebook, and their hands brushed. The contact was brief, but she felt a jolt go through her like nothing she’d ever felt before. She quickly pulled her hand back, looking up to see if he’d noticed.
He was looking at her, his expression soft. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Oh, it’s fine,” she said. “I shouldn’t have reached for it while you were writing.”
He smiled, and for a moment, the air between them felt electrically charged, as if the world around them had disappeared and it was just the two of them. Clearing his throat, he leaned back.
“So, let’s talk numbers. Do you have any savings or money to put toward this? Are you looking for investors?”
She sighed. “That’s the tricky part. I don’t have much saved, and my dad definitely is not going to help. He doesn’t believe in the idea, so why would he put money toward it?”
“It is tough, but there are options. Small business loans, grants for women entrepreneurs—there’s a lot out there if you know where to look.”
“Do you think I could qualify for something like that?”
“Sure,” Tate said. “You’ve got a great vision, and once we get this plan written out, you’ll have the foundation you need to go pitch it. I’ll help you with the research, and I can even connect you with some people I know who helped me.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said without hesitation. “I believe in what you’re trying to do, Whitney, and I know you can make it happen. And maybe once you have your studio, we can work together on some things.”
She smiled, the warmth of his words wrapping around her like a blanket. For the first time, this dream didn’t seem like such a fantasy. It was something real and possibly achievable.
They leaned over the notebook together, brainstorming ideas for marketing and budgeting, and their heads came so close that she could feel the warmth coming off of him. At one point, they both reached for the same page, their shoulders brushing.
“Sorry,” Tate said.
“It’s okay.”
Their eyes met, and just for a moment, she felt the world tilt slightly. She could feel the weight of his gaze and the unspoken connection growing between them. But before she could process any other feelings, he cleared his throat and leaned back.
“We’re making great progress.”
“Yeah,” Whitney said, quieter than she’d intended. “We are.”
When they wrapped up their meeting with a promise to follow up soon, Whitney left the cafe. She glanced back at Tate. He was still sitting at the table, watching her with a smile. She walked outside onto the sidewalk, wishing she could have spent the day sitting there with him, talking about her dreams. She was closer than ever to making them a reality.