Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
AVERY
M y feet were killing me, my lower back was on fire, and my cheeks hurt from smiling, but I couldn’t have been happier about any of it. Our second annual Halloween collab with Rivers Bend Orchard was well into its fourth hour, and so far, it had been a smashing success.
There were people everywhere. Tourists, locals, families with kids, all roasting marshmallows around the huge bonfire, bobbing for apples, and buying tickets to shoot the potato guns at scarecrows.
At this point in the evening, it was too dark to see where the potatoes landed if they missed the spotlit targets, but that didn’t seem to be stopping anyone.
A local band played bluegrass and folk rock by the barn.
People were gorging themselves on fried apple pies, cider donuts, and barbecue from a food truck.
And everyone was head over heels in love with the fall brew. It was a triumph.
Except that I didn’t have the recipe anymore .
One thing at a time , I reminded myself. Right now, I was going to enjoy that I’d made something so many people agreed was amazing. I’d planned to serve whatever we didn’t sell tonight in the taproom, but it looked like the crowd here might drink every drop.
A crew of kids in costume ran by, a mummy’s white streamers trailing behind them as they zigzagged from one candy station to another.
The Orchard staff had set up a scavenger hunt of candy, challenging enough for the older kids and easy enough that the little kids still got their share.
All of us working the event were in costume, like a lot of the kids, adding to the festive air.
I’d kept it simple with a black dress and fangs that were still attached to my teeth because I hadn’t tried eating yet.
My stomach growled, reminding me how long it had been since breakfast. I thought I’d gotten used to the tantalizing scent of barbecue drifting in the air, but I saw someone walk by with a huge pulled pork sandwich, and my stomach made itself known.
Glancing around, I thought I might have time for a quick break.
I turned for the food truck and almost bumped into August, my brother, Tenn, and his wife Scarlett’s youngest son.
Looking up, I saw him accompanied by Nicky, Finn and Savannah’s son, and August’s older brother, Thatcher.
Griffen and Hope’s nanny, Paige, stood a few feet away, wearing baby Stella in a carrier.
“Hey Paige, hey guys,” I said. “How long have you been here?”
“A while,” Nicky said, bouncing on his toes. “We went and shot the potatoes, and I think I decapitated one of the scarecrows—” I glanced up to see Thatcher shaking his head.
“Didn’t even get close,” he said under his breath, but Nicky didn’t pay attention.
“—and then Paige said we could get some donuts after we bob for apples,” Nicky finished.
Paige smiled at me over Stella’s head. She was sweet and quiet, and great with the kids.
I hadn’t been sure about having someone in the house who wasn’t family.
Savannah didn’t count. Even before she married Finn, she’d grown up with us as the daughter of the housekeeper, Miss Martha, who’d run Heartstone my entire childhood.
But Paige had fit in seamlessly, first living in town and only coming in during the day to help Griffen and Hope with Stella, filling in when anyone needed help with the older kids.
A month ago, she’d moved into Heartstone Manor, and by all I could see, she was making everyone’s lives easier. I liked her.
“Who else is here?” I asked.
Paige looked back over her shoulder at the food truck. “Griffen and Hope. That’s why I have this one here,” she said, smiling down at the top of Stella’s fuzzy pumpkin hat. “Finn and Savannah, too. Sterling said she was going to come by, but she isn’t with us yet. And Ford.”
“Ford? Really?” I asked, surprised. Ford didn’t come out in public much, especially among crowds. I don’t think he’d been to a single town event since he’d been sprung from prison months before.
Paige pressed her lips together, nodding. I wondered if he’d been dragged or come willingly, but it wasn’t the kind of question I’d ask Paige. I’d ask Ford myself when I saw him.
“Have fun,” I said to the kids. “Don’t make yourselves sick on those donuts.” They laughed and rolled their eyes, August and Nicky bolting for the big metal tubs set up for apple bobbing.
“Good luck,” I said to Paige, squeezing her shoulder as I walked past her, my eyes on the long line at the food truck, the smell of barbecue making my mouth water.
A man walked by, holding a red and white paper container mounded high with mac and cheese.
I started making a list in my head: a barbecue sandwich with plenty of coleslaw, some of that mac and cheese, maybe they’d have collards with bacon.
I hadn’t eaten since breakfast—a million years ago—and I’d been on the move since I woke up.
I could devour a whole platter of barbecue and all the sides.
I scanned the crowd for any of my siblings or their spouses and came up empty.
The turnout had been wonderfully big. Rivers Bend Orchard was popular, which sure didn’t hurt, but neither did having the name Sawyers Bend Brewing on the banner at the front.
I was almost at the food truck when I had a thought and diverted back to where my staff was pouring beer.
Dave looked up. “I thought you were on break.”
“I’m working on it,” I said. “I’m getting some food. You guys want me to get you anything?”
“I’m good,” Cammie said. “I’ll eat when you take my spot here.” I’d been thrilled when she hadn’t bailed on me for this. We needed every hand on deck for today.
“I’m good too, boss,” Dave said. “I ate earlier. Definitely get some of that mac and cheese. It was—” He rolled his eyes in bliss. “Life changing.”
“It’s on my list,” I said, my mouth watering again. “All right, if you guys are cool?—”
“Better than cool,” Dave said. “Everyone loves the fall brew.”
“Congratulations,” I heard from behind me.
I turned to lock eyes with Matthew, my appetite dying a quick death as I took in the smirk on his face. I was not talking to him in front of my employees. Turning, I paced back toward the food truck, letting him hurry to keep up.
“Avery,” he started, and I slowed down, realizing my determined stride was attracting attention.
“What’s up, Matthew?” I asked, my voice as neutral as I could keep it.
His hand closed over my elbow, stopping me in my tracks, his grip too tight for me to break without drawing the eyes of everyone around us. That was the last thing I wanted. Second only to Matthew being here at all.
“I bet you think you pulled this off, don’t you?” Matthew said in a low voice. “But you’re on borrowed time. I heard you lost the recipe for the fall brew. Everyone loves it, but that won’t do you any good, will it?”
“Where’d you hear that?” I asked, ignoring his smug expression.
“Word gets around,” he said easily. “It’s possible I have the original on my laptop. I might be willing to part with it. For a price.”
My chest burned with sudden fury. I yanked my elbow free of his grip, too angry to care who saw. I had to shove my hands in my pockets to stop myself from throwing a punch right to that perfect nose.
The businesswoman in me said I should find out what his price was and get my recipe back. The rest of me rejected that idea. Fuck that and fuck him. It was my recipe. I’d made it in the first place. I’d make it again. I’d make it better.
What I would not do is give Matthew Holt another dime of my money.
“No thanks, I’m good,” I said, fighting to keep my voice even and friendly, aware of the way some of the people around us had stopped talking, their heads tilted in our direction, ears tuned for gossip, for trouble. I didn’t want to give them either.
This was my night. My triumph.
“Why are you here, Matthew?”
“What? Can’t I hang out in my town? Have some barbecue and drink a beer? I brewed it after all.”
“I thought you had a new job. You’re not a part of Sawyers Bend Brewing anymore,” I reminded him.
“You think you can get rid of me that easily?” Matthew asked, leaning in and lowering his voice.
“Enjoy your night, Avery. It feels like a triumph, but it’ll be the last you ever know.
You can’t reproduce this beer without me.
Everyone will realize what a failure you are when you never make another decent beer. ”
He straightened, raising his voice just enough to be overheard by the crowd around us. “If you change your mind, you know how to find me. I’ve saved your ass before. I might be willing to do it again for a price. Then at least you could have some talent behind your beer.”
I didn’t realize how close I was to punching the arrogant expression off his face until an arm came around my shoulders, pulling me back. I looked up to see my brother Ford, his usually impassive face set in hard lines, his eyes furious.
“You’re not welcome here,” he said to Matthew. “Leave now or I’ll make you leave.”
“You can’t fucking tell me what to do,” Matthew spit out, taking a step forward.
“No,” West said from behind Matthew, “but I can. One of the hosts of this event has asked you to leave.” West looked at me with raised eyebrows. I nodded with a jerk of my head, forcing my fingers to open from clenched fists.
“Yes,” I said, in case it was unclear to anyone. “I want him to leave.” I wasn’t sure how much I cared if he left quietly as long as he was gone.
West looked to Ford. They shared a look that I was pretty sure meant, You got her while I take care of this?
I didn’t love the whole “men saving the little lady” vibe, but at the moment, as long as it resulted in Matthew being gone, I’d take it.
Ford nodded back, his arm tightening around my shoulders as he turned me and led me toward the side of the barn, pulling me toward the shadows, away from the crowd. “I thought you were going to break his nose,” Ford said in a low voice.