Chapter 38
Mia woke up Sunday morning to an overcast day. She walked downstairs and greeted her father, who hadn’t slept well and was in a bad mood.
After pouring herself a cup of coffee, she mentally went through her day.
She needed to develop a potential menu for the fundraiser even though it was several months away and check in with the couple who wanted to have an engagement party in a couple of weeks at the event barn.
Then she couldn’t forget returning a few emails she’d been putting off and updating her calendar.
It wasn’t much. She sighed. She could upload Autumn’s pictures to her website and advertise a little. Advertising costs money, which she was sorely missing right now. But it was one of those things that you’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t. She needed business, plain and simple.
After kissing her dad on the forehead, she stepped outside. The wind had picked up, but the rain was holding off.
Inside her kitchen, she inhaled the familiar scents of yeast and sugar, the acrid scent of coffee grounds from the other day.
The space usually steadied her. Today it didn’t quite land.
Yesterday she asked Roy to dump the canister of flour.
She needed to place a new order. And while she was at it, it didn’t hurt to see what other supplies she was out of.
Thankfully, Sarah was able to come out yesterday morning, drop off the previous week’s receipts and pick up what she’d sell this week. She’d also hired Norah to help Sarah, which took one more thing off Mia’s plate.
After the fiasco with the crackers, Mia accepted that she’d been trying to do too much at once and needed a little breathing room. Scaling back on the farmers’ market felt like the safest way to do it without drawing attention or questions.
She checked the supply closet and made a short list on her phone, shorter than she liked.
Tires crunched outside, and she looked out the window expecting to see Roy.
It wasn’t him.
A sedan rolled to a stop. Heather stepped out, smoothing her jacket before glancing toward the barn.
Mia’s stomach tightened. Her first instinct was to step back, out of sight. But Heather probably wouldn’t give up and would knock at the farmhouse.
Crap. Could she pretend she wasn’t here? Hide somewhere? She stayed perfectly still, heart ticking.
Too late.
Heather saw her in the window and waved enthusiastically.
Mia closed her eyes for a beat, then let out a slow exhale. Avoidance wasn’t an option now.
By the time Heather reached the door, Mia was ready.
“Hi,” Heather said brightly, stepping inside. “I thought I might find you here. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“No,” Mia said. “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to check on you. I heard you’d had a rough week.”
Mia kept her tone neutral. Flat. Careful. “It’s been busy.”
Heather nodded, lowering her voice a notch like the walls had ears. “That’s actually why I stopped by. People have been talking.”
Mia stayed where she was, leaning against the counter. She didn’t offer a chair. No sense in sitting when all she wanted was for Heather to go away.
Against her better judgment, she asked, “About what?”
Heather paused, as if she didn’t want to say it out loud. “Nothing concrete. Just questions. A couple of folks mentioned they heard events had been canceled. That people weren’t sure you could commit.”
Mia sighed. “Not true. People cancel all the time. That’s the nature of the business.”
“Oh, I know,” Heather said. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Just time. Or nerves.” She shrugged. “You know how people get.”
Mia waited. She didn’t fill the space. Didn’t explain. Let Heather sit on it.
“It’s mostly just chatter,” Heather continued. “But it keeps coming up that events are canceled and clients are backing out.”
“They’re not,” Mia said.
“I told them that,” Heather said quickly. “It’s just …” She hesitated. “Sabrina mentioned it first. At the salon.”
Of course, she did.
“She said someone she knows was thinking of booking you and got nervous after hearing about a last-minute cancellation.” Heather shrugged. “Secondhand stuff. You know how it goes.”
Secondhand information. Rumors.
“Sabrina complains,” Heather added. “She always has. I’m sure she didn’t mean any harm.”
Mia nodded once. If she believed that, she’d still believe in the Easter Bunny and Santa.
Heather paused, then set a folded printout on the counter. “Someone shared this online. I thought you’d want to read it yourself.”
She lifted a hand slightly, as if distancing herself from it. “I read this on a local blog. This is nothing I would write. Anyhow, I thought you should know what’s being said,” Heather added gently. “Before it spreads any further.”
“Thanks,” Mia replied.
Heather smiled and headed for the door. Already reaching for her phone as if the conversation were complete.
When she was gone, Mia stood alone in the quiet kitchen.
She didn’t want to read what Heather had left but couldn’t stop herself from unfolding it.
No Names. No Accusations. Just Questions.
With several events reportedly canceled in recent weeks, locals are beginning to wonder if timing, capacity or reliability issues are at play. For now, clients are encouraged to do their own due diligence.
It went on.
Mia’s stomach churned. This wasn’t a concern. It was poison dressed up as reason. Her business wasn’t ruined yet. But this was how it started. Rumors. Questions.
And that last line: Transparency builds confidence.
The words landed like a slap. Who could hate her enough to do this?
Well, this was just great. Rumors that were actually true. Rumors that weren’t. Her business felt like it was slipping sideways, and she didn’t know how to stop it.
She folded it up and tucked it into a drawer. One more thing she just couldn’t handle today.
Caleb got back early Sunday night and called. Asked if she could come over. They’d order takeout, relax, fool around, pretend the rest of the world could wait until morning.
Yes, she could.
She walked back to the farmhouse. Her father waved over the newspaper, then she headed upstairs to take a shower. After drying off, she changed into jeans and a sweater, pulled her hair into a ponytail, put on her sneakers and added a touch of perfume. She was ready.
She didn’t need an overnight bag. Caleb had insisted she leave a few things there. Earlier she’d pulled out something her dad could reheat for dinner, so he was all set.
It didn’t take long to get to Caleb’s cabin. She pulled onto the gravel drive, killed the engine and took a deep breath.
Tonight was not about problems. It was about connection.
She looked over, and there he was. Steady. Grounding. His eyes were warm and soft, like he was already home just seeing her. He reached her door and opened it to help her out.
“You look good,” he said, then sniffed her hair. “You smell good too.”
Mia chuckled.
They walked hand in hand into the cabin. “Wine?” he asked.
“Bottle,” she replied.
“Bad day?”
“Not the best, but I don’t want to rehash it.”
“Fair enough.”
He handed her a glass of red and set the bottle down on the table. “Just in case,” he said with a grin. “What would you like to eat?”
“Oh, surprise me,” she replied. “I don’t feel like making any decisions tonight.”
“Got it.”
He pulled out his phone and ordered Thai from a place in town. Pad Thai for him, green curry for her and an order of crispy spring rolls to share. Comfort food. Reliable.
“Twenty minutes,” he told her.
Her stomach rumbled on cue. “Good timing.”
She tried to remember if she’d eaten anything all day. She hadn’t.
They settled onto the sofa, her legs tucked beneath her, his arm draped easily over her shoulder.
His weight was solid. Anchoring. Like she didn’t have to hold herself up for a while.
It felt good—snuggling, talking, not having to hold herself together.
He told her about his protection duty, which was mostly boring but satisfying and was exactly how he liked it, and the long drive back. How he missed her.
She told him about karaoke and confirmed the rumors about Joy being off-key were absolutely true.
Caleb laughed, pressing a kiss to her temple.
For the first time all day, Mia relaxed. No way was she bringing all her negative energy here. Tonight was about laughter, good food and feeling sexy and worthwhile.
The doorbell rang, and Caleb got up. The food arrived. The cabin filled with the scent of coconut milk, garlic and warm spice. She stood and brought plates over to the coffee table, while he set the bags down.
Mia dipped her spoon into the curry and moaned.
It was rich and creamy, heat blooming slowly instead of burning, the brightness of lime cutting through the richness.
How could one dish taste indulgent and comforting at the same time?
The warmth spread through her, settling her shoulders, quieting her thoughts and grounding her in the moment.
The wine disappeared slowly as conversation tapered off. The takeout containers cleared from the table.
They moved toward the bedroom without talking much. No rush. No need.
Caleb shut the door behind them and pulled her close. Kissing him felt easy, familiar. When they finally tumbled into bed, there was no pressure. Just want.
Later, tangled together beneath the covers, Mia rested her cheek against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. His hand traced lazy circles on her back, steadying her.
This was what she needed. Comfort.
She drifted off thinking she might actually sleep through the night.
She didn’t.
The phone rang somewhere in the dark.
Caleb was instantly moving before the second ring. Mia woke, disoriented.
“Jennings,” he said.
A pause.
Then, “Slow down. Say that again.”
Mia’s stomach dropped. The room felt suddenly too small.
Caleb swung his legs over the side of the bed. “When?”
Another pause. He turned to Mia, who was now sitting up.
“We’ll be there in ten.”
He ended the call and stood.
“What is it?” she asked, though she knew the answer wouldn’t be good.
“That was my friend with the fire department,” he said. His voice was steady, but his body was already moving. “There’s been a fire. At the event barn.” The words landed heavy.
For a second, she couldn’t speak. “Dad?”
“He’s okay. It’s a small fire, but they contained it.”
She shoved the covers back and stood. “I’m coming.”
He crossed the room and cupped her face. “I know. Get dressed.”
As they moved around the cabin, the easy feeling from earlier vanished, replaced by urgency. The night had turned on a dime.
Mia pulled on clothes with shaking hands, her mind racing.
Missing orders.
Crackers.
Cancellations.
Rumors.
A blog post. And now, a fire. Her pulse kicked hard. This wasn’t a coincidence anymore.
The sky was still dark, with stars twinkling above. But Mia could swear she smelled smoke even though she was miles away.
Caleb drove carefully through the night. Neither said a word.
Her mind spun. What could have happened? Fire meant damage. Damage meant money. Money meant survival. She forced herself to breathe.
Stop.
This wasn’t helping.
She took a deep breath. She could see the red and blue lights flickering faintly in the distance now.
She’d know soon enough.