Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Mark wasn’t much for festivals. Sunburned noses and crying babies. Way too much fried food and wheelbarrows full of yelping puppies. But there he was, smack in the middle of it, stringing up brightly-colored banners and arranging display after display of coffee products. Let her handle it, Emily had said earlier that morning, but Mark never could resist taking care of things; how he hated that about himself.
He spotted Emily coordinating with the mayor’s assistant, juggling two clipboards and a roll of promotional T-shirts. She caught his eye across the booth and grinned. Her lightness was a happy and strange contrast to his no-nonsense attitude. Mark watched her move from task to task, each one an easy leap while he followed the sure and steady path she cleared. What a team they were, he thought, no matter how different they were. He tried to work out what to say to her and how to say it, but the right words never came.
Finally, after another hour, the coffee booth was in full swing. The other three baristas worked beside them, helping out as best they could.
Emily handed a latte to a customer as another group of well-wishers dropped by. “Just enjoy the limelight for once,” she told him.
Mark wished he could. The spotlight never suited him. That’s why Emily was there. She was everything he wasn’t; a bundle of energy, bright as the banners she hung. Her steps were as quick and sure as his were deliberate and slow. He finished stacking the last of the cups while waving off another few thank-yous. He almost preferred the busy silence of an emergency over the babble of gratitude, the order of it, the knowing what to do, which was the exact opposite of the situation.
People in the bustling crowd kept stopping to thank him. I just did what anyone would have done; he kept telling them, but that didn’t slow them down one bit. A motherly woman clutched his hand. “My heart almost broke when I heard what happened, but you were there to save the day. Thank the Lord,” before shuffling off.
A girl about seven shook his hand, her small mouth twisting around, “Thanks for saving Kurt. Class wouldn’t be the same without him. He makes everyone laugh with his cartoon voices.”
Mark mumbled “no problem” to all of them. Embarrassed and awkward, barely covering how he felt, but he did his best to be friendly for the Brave Badge’s sake. He handed out another fistful of flyers for the coffee shop and fielded more praise than he could handle. It’s good publicity, he told himself. The festival crowd was there in force, and the coffee was selling. That’s what mattered.
Emily zipped back his way, saying, “I’m giving you a heads-up that the paparazzi are about to descend on you.”
Mark’s eyes grew wide with apprehension. He knew it would only be the local reporters, but that was still more than he preferred. “Do I have time to get away?”
She shook her head and laughed. “You’ll live through it. Remember, deep breaths and think of all the free publicity for the Brave Badge,” she called over her shoulder, her tone light with a touch of humor.
Mark managed a half-smile, appreciating Emily’s efforts to make it better for him. As she returned with the tray balanced expertly in one hand, he couldn't help but admire her. She moved through the crowd effortlessly, her laughter mingling with the sounds of the festival. It contrasted sharply with his own rigid stance behind the counter.
As predicted, a small group of local reporters began making their way toward him, cameras flashing.
“So, Mark Merlot,” began one eager young reporter with a recorder poised, “how does it feel to be Faith Valley’s newest hero?”
Mark glanced at Emily, who gave him an encouraging nod. “It's an honor to be able to help,” he said carefully, finding strength in her presence. “But today’s really about celebrating our community and supporting local ventures like my coffee shop, Brave Badge.”
Despite his reservations about being in the spotlight, Mark was handling it like a pro—thanks largely to Emily’s guidance. As the interviews continued, he relaxed a bit and was able to field the questions easier. Thankfully, after a few more minutes of gentle probing by the reporters, they seemed satisfied and moved on.
Mark exhaled deeply once they had gone and looked over at Emily with a relieved grin. “Thanks for having my back.”
“Sure, but you handled it fine on your own,” she responded warmly .
Standing there amid the laughter and music of the festival, their eyes locked in a moment of silent understanding—the kind that said more than words ever could. They moved toward each other, momentarily forgetting where they were. Mark reached out and brushed a curl behind her ear. “That’s not true. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Glad to be of service,” she whispered, her lips just inches away from his and ready for the taking.
The moment was interrupted, however, when a stranger wearing a black leather coat and sporting a Mohawk and tattoos appeared at the booth glaring at them. “You got to be kidding me, Em. Who’s this guy you’re flirting with?”
Emily’s eyes rounded helplessly as her eyes darted between them.
Mark wasn’t sure what was going on, but he wasn’t going to let some guy get in Emily’s face. He stepped forward, hands easy at his side, at least for the moment. “Is there a problem here?” Mark’s voice carried quiet authority.
A muscle twitched in the other guy’s jaw. “Yeah, there is,” he growled. “But not with you.”
Emily stood frozen, a look of concern written across her face. It bothered Mark to see her so unsteady. He nodded for her to step back, letting her know he could take care of this. She bit her lip and moved behind him. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Mark ordered.
The stranger’s shoulders were all sharp angles and disbelief. “It’s a public space, man. I haven’t done a thing.”
Mark noticed how Emily’s breath grew shallower every time the other man looked at her. His instincts to protect her kicked in. He hated unwanted attention, but his need to keep Emily safe mattered more. He planted himself squarely between Emily and the other man, raising his voice above the festival noise, “Last chance to leave before this gets messy.”
The stranger made a loud show of defiance. “It’s a free country, man, so back off. Everyone’s here to have fun.”
Mark looked him straight in the eye, unwilling to back down. “Not you. It’s time for you to leave. Now.” He could feel the heat of the crowd’s attention settling on him like a fog of warm breath.
The stranger must have realized that Mark wasn’t leaving any room for negotiation, because he turned on his heel and stalked off.
“Sorry. I didn’t expect that,” Emily sighed with relief as she reached out and squeezed his hand. “You’re good to have around in a crisis, Mark.”
“Who was that?”
“Just this guy I dated a couple of times back in Hero. I told him that I didn’t think we were a good fit, but clearly, he thought otherwise.”
Mark wondered if there was more to it than that, but he didn’t want to press her. When she was ready, he hoped she would tell him the rest of it.
“You think he’ll be back?” Mark asked with concern.
Emily shook her head. “Not after you went all John Wayne on him.”
“Okay, but—” before he could finish, the mayor’s assistant came up and grabbed Mark by the arm.
“It’s time for the ceremony,” the bottled redhead announced as she ushered him away.
As he was pushed onto the stage, Mark could have sworn the entire town seemed to be there. Mark scanned the crowd for one small figure, a face he hoped to see above everyone else’s. Emily was tucked between a paramedic and a curly-haired kid in a red T-shirt .
“Some folks say he should have worn a cape,” the mayor announced with a grin and a pause for laughter, “but today, we’re making do with a certificate of appreciation.”
Mark shifted on the stage, switching between pride and discomfort as the mayor read from a note card. “Our newest neighbor may be used to the occasional splash in the paper, but I don’t think he’s used to the welcome Faith Valley is giving him. When I asked him why he did it,” the mayor continued, “his answer was the kind of answer you expect from a true hero. ‘I was there. I couldn’t do anything else.’ That’s what Mark Merlot told me.”
Mark felt the briefest flush of embarrassment. He didn’t think of himself as a hero, and he’d told the mayor, but Cletus West had decided otherwise. The mayor looked up from his note card and grinned a full-toothed, public servant grin. “Or, as my daughter-in-law put it, Mark was the most determined person she ever saw.”
When the mayor handed him the plaque, Mark mumbled a thank-you and let his eyes settle on Emily. She was the one person who made him feel at home.
“We don’t expect you to be as comfortable with our appreciation as you are in the water,” the mayor finished, “but you’d better get used to it.”
A few seconds later, Mark was off the stage and working his way through the crowd of well-wishers. The closer Mark got to Emily, the less he cared about the plaque and the limelight and his own discomfort, and the more he wanted to share it all with her.
“You look a little green around the gills,” she teased with a smirk when he was close enough to hear.
Mark shrugged. “I told you I wasn’t good at this. Give me a cold lake any day.”
They stood for a while, letting the festival spin out around them, the edges of it already growing soft and thin. In the past, he’d have been halfway back to the coffee shop, avoiding all the things Emily didn’t seem to care about avoiding: crowds and laughter and too many feelings.
“Mark, you did great up there,” Emily encouraged with a smile. “Next time, you just need to relax a little.”
“Next time?” he questioned with a raise of his eyebrows. “There better not be a next time.”
“Oh, there will be. It’ll just be for when you earn the honor of best coffee shop in Texas.”
“Now that I can live with,” he stated with a nod. “But I’ll just have you accept it for me instead.”
As soon as he said it, he realized his mistake. She wouldn’t be there by the time that was a possibility. And that knowledge bothered him more than he cared to admit.
“We should probably get back to the booth and help out,” Mark mumbled, trying to quickly divert her from his verbal blunder.
They were only back a few minutes when Nicole came over to the booth with Kurt and his parents.
“We can’t thank you enough for what you did for our little boy,” Kurt’s mother told Mark with a quick hug.
“If there’s anything you ever need, we’re more than happy to help out,” Kurt’s father added, shaking Mark’s hand.
“I’ll never forget how you helped me,” Nicole said with tears in her eyes as she glanced between Mark and Emily. “Both of you.”
Mark noticed that Kurt was standing behind his mother, peeking out every so often to look at him. He bent down to be on the little boy’s level. “How are you doing, buddy?”
“Good,” Kurt told him. “It was really scary though. ”
Mark nodded. “I know it was, but you’re okay now. That’s what matters.”
“Thank you,” the little boy whispered. “I like being alive.”
The frankness of Kurt’s statement caused everyone to laugh. There was another round of thank-yous before the Hutton family took off.
“That was really nice of you,” Emily praised.
Mark shrugged as he picked up a rag to wipe the booth’s counter. “It was nothing.”
“You know, you dismiss what you do all the time. It wouldn’t hurt to be proud of all the amazing things you do every once in a while,” Emily gently chastised before getting back to work.
Her words bounced around in his head. Part of him knew that Emily was right, but it wasn’t like him to take credit for doing the right thing. It was just part of his nature to want to help people.
By the time the festival was ending, the baristas had done most of the clean-up, but there were still a few odds and ends to finish after they left. This time, Emily let him help.
As they moved to put away the last of the supplies and roll up the banners, Mark realized how much he enjoyed spending time with Emily. He wanted to tell her so. He wanted to say the other things he never got around to saying, and more than that, he wanted the right words to find him when he needed them most.
“Didn’t think the booth would run as smooth as it did,” she told him. “Had my doubts about the baristas, but they managed to keep it together.”
Mark laughed a low chuckle that felt good to release after the tension of the day. “You underestimate your team. They’re good because you’re good at leading them, even if you doubt it sometimes.”
Emily glanced at him, her expression softening. “Thanks, Mark. That means a lot coming from you. I’ve always admired how you handle things...straightforward and strong.”
He shifted uncomfortably, not used to receiving compliments any more than he was used to public accolades. “I just do what needs to be done.”
As they finished tidying up the booth, Mark gently brought up what happened earlier. “So, about earlier...with your ex,” he started cautiously, not wanting to pry but needing to understand. “Is everything okay now? I mean, he didn’t seem too happy about being told to leave.”
Emily sighed, dropping a stack of napkins into a box with more force than necessary. “Yeah, I think so. I hope so. It’s just…complicated. And old news, really. I should’ve handled it better before things reached this point.”
Mark nodded, understanding her need for privacy and not pushing further. Instead, he focused on helping her fold up a banner. “You know you can talk to me if you ever need to vent or…anything,” he offered tentatively.
She smiled at him gratefully. “I know, Mark. Thank you.” She paused, then added, laughing slightly, “Seems like we’re both pretty terrible at accepting help or talking about our feelings.”
“Must be why we get along so well,” he teased with a grin.
Their hands brushed against each other’s as they worked together folding the banner, causing sparks of electricity to shoot up Mark’s arm. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, but he liked the way it felt. The air was thick with the electricity, and he found himself drawn closer to her, more than he intended—maybe more than he should have let himself be. But Emily had let him in this far, and he wasn’t about to let fear set the pace—not this time.
Emily’s small frame was leaning in, the warmth of her skin enticing him. Her dark eyes were searching his so honestly, so openly, that Mark felt a swift kick of emotion he wasn’t prepared for. Just a few more inches, and then his lips could taste hers...
But before it could happen, Sue popped into the empty booth, and they scattered like leaves. “I forgot my sweater,” the barista said, her eyes narrowing as she glanced between them as if assessing what was going on.
Mark looked at Emily out of the corner of his eye, trying to figure out how she was handling the abrupt interruption. She was looking around, then yanked up the sweater, saying, “Here it is.”
Sue reached out and took it. “Thanks. I’ll just let you two get back to whatever you were just doing.” And as quickly as she arrived, she ducked out, leaving them alone.
Mark and Emily shared an amused look. The laughter that bubbled up felt natural, cleansing almost after the tension.
“She seems to think she knows something,” Emily chuckled.
“Yeah,” Mark agreed, his voice low, tinged with a regret he couldn’t entirely hide. “We seem to be pretty good at getting interrupted.”
“Maybe the universe is telling us we need better timing.”
“Or maybe,” Mark countered, taking a daring step to close the distance between them, “it’s telling us to be a bit more persistent.”
Her smile was all the encouragement he needed. He reached out, tentatively at first, to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered near her cheek, the contact sending a fresh wave of electricity through him.
“Persistent, huh?” Her gaze locked on his with an intensity that made his heart pound against his chest.
“Definitely persistent,” he affirmed softly.
Just as they leaned in once more, determined not to be thwarted this time, Emily’s phone buzzed loudly in her pocket. They both groaned but laughed at the absurdity of their situation.
She pulled out her phone and glanced at the screen. Her smile faltered as she quickly flicked the screen off. “It’s nothing, but I think it’s a sign we should probably call it a night.”
As they stood there, the moment of intimacy interrupted by the intrusion of reality, a quiet understanding passed between them. They both knew that the moment was slipping away as the magic of the evening faded into the cool night air.
Emily took a step back, breaking the charged atmosphere that had surrounded them. “I should probably go.”
He nodded, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features before he masked it with a smile. “Yeah, probably for the best.”
Emily gave him a small smile, saying, “Good night, Mark,” before turning around and walking away.
“Good night, Emily,” he called out after her retreating figure.
As regrets filled his head, he released a weary sigh and completed the task of packing the final remnants of the booth. He had to accept that some moments were destined to linger incomplete, leaving him with nothing but what-ifs and almosts to console him.