20. Tess #2
I get to my feet, and the two of us settle the pumpkins on top of the barrel next to ours. Jacinthe wasn’t lying; it really does look like the only options left were the absolute dregs of the season. The pumpkins are barely any bigger than grapefruits, and they all have big dents and scaly patches.
“Don’t judge me, okay?” Brooke jokes. “This is all they had in the patch. Besides, I kind of think they have character.”
I tap my chin and pretend to be appraising her selections. “You know, I think you’re right.”
We’re joined by Jacinthe, whose face still looks like a storm cloud as she carries over another couple pints, and Natalie, who deposits her load of similarly afflicted pumpkins next to Brooke’s.
“Pathetic,” Jacinthe says, clucking her tongue as she looks the pile over.
“Don’t be mean,” Natalie chides. “We haven’t even carved them yet.”
Jacinthe scoffs. “Do you even have room to carve them? There is space for, like, one eye on those things.”
I hold my hands up. “Ladies, please. Let us live in peace about the pumpkins and enjoy our fine ciders together.”
Brooke, who’s already seated at the table, leans over and snatches her pint from Jacinthe.
“Hear, hear!” she cheers.
We all get settled, and I make the mistake of asking Brooke and Natalie what they’re doing at the pumpkin patch so late on a Tuesday night before realizing that means opening myself up to the exact same question.
“We’ve been meaning to go for weeks,” Brooke explains. “We were going to come this afternoon after Natalie finished her shift at the inn, but then…”
She trails off and shares a sidelong glance with Natalie that gets the two of them grinning like schoolyard crushes all over again.
“But then we, um, lost track of time,” Natalie finishes.
Jacinthe makes a show out of groaning and rolling her eyes, but I can’t help smiling along with them. For two people who apparently went through a hell of a lot to end up together, they sure seem to be living the queer dream now.
“So, what about you two?” Brooke asks, snapping me out of my daze.
Jacinthe and I share a covert look of our own, but it’s filled with silent panic instead of blissful adoration.
“We’re, um, picking up my daughter,” I say on a whim. “She’s at an after-school thing in Saint-Jovite, but we ended up with some time to kill, and Jacinthe had been telling me about this legendary Tremblay cider, so we decided to stop by since it’s on the way.”
We really are going to pick up Shel after this. I latch onto the half-truth and hope it’s enough to sound convincing.
I catch Natalie squinting at Jacinthe, but she doesn’t say anything about it.
“I still need to meet your daughter properly,” Brooke says to me. “I only saw her way back at Balsam Inn’s grand opening.”
“Oh, for sure,” I answer. “I think I’ve heard you have a corgi? As long as you bring a pet along, Shel will adore you. She’s a huge animal lover.”
Brooke keeps the conversation going with some chatter about the senior corgi she adopted a few years ago and how well she gets along with the giant bloodhound Natalie’s family owns. She even shows me some photos on her phone to prove it.
I smile and coo over the photos, but I barely register what she’s saying. Most of my brain is busy whirring through a million ways this surprise meeting could have gone worse.
Jacinthe and I could have been sitting too close, or staring too hard, or even just leaning over the table towards each other at a suspiciously intimate angle.
We could have blown our cover before we’ve even decided what it is we’re covering up.
“What did you get up to today, Tess?”
I blink and straighten up at the sound of my name, vaguely aware that the conversation has now shifted to discussing all our days.
“Oh, I, uh, had a few farms to drive out to,” I answer. “Just some basic trims and shoeing. Nothing too exciting.”
Brooke and Natalie admit they both have no idea what being a farrier is like, and I end up answering a long string of questions about what my work while they listen with rapt attention.
“You must know every horse in the area by now,” Natalie says. “That’s so cool.”
“Probably most of them at this point,” I agree.
“Actually, the owners of the second farm I was at today are looking to move. It’s kind of a sad story.
They just can’t afford to run their own farm anymore.
They don’t want to give up the horses, but there’s a real shortage of boarding stables around here. They might have to sell.”
“Oh no!” Brooke says, placing a hand on her chest. “That’s terrible. I can’t imagine having to give a pet up.”
Natalie waves her pint in Jacinthe’s direction. “You should take them in at La Grange Rouge.”
I chuckle. “I said the same thing about the last people I met looking for a boarding stable. I’ve met a few people looking for that, actually. There really is a shortage. You could fill the barn in a matter of days.”
I direct the last sentence at Jacinthe. She gives me a doubtful purse of her lips.
“Yeah, like I have time to start another business.”
Natalie taps the side of her glass and squints into the distance.
“Would it really be that much more work?” she asks after pondering for a moment. “I mean, I know running La Grange Rouge isn’t easy, but wouldn’t you just be adding a few more horses into the routine you already have going?”
Jacinthe scoffs. “Why don’t you get up at five to do the morning feed sometime and tell me how much more work it is?”
Natalie holds her hands up in surrender. “Okay, you’re right. I don’t know much about it. You can charge good money for that, though, right? Boarding horses? Maybe it would balance out.”
Jacinthe shakes her head, her voice taking on a slight edge.
“We’re doing fine. I’ve got all I can handle, anyway. I couldn’t open a boarding stable on my own, not with the inn too.”
Natalie is back to tapping on her glass.
“You could hire someone,” she suggests, “or even get a business partner or something, like us at the inn. That’s worked out well, hasn’t it?”
The edge in Jacinthe’s voice sharpens.
“That’s the inn. This is the farm. I do the farm on my own.”
For the second time this evening, I find myself thinking about that night Jacinthe and I sat at the fire together.
I remember the way she talked about her dad, that rare glint of vulnerability shining through before it hardened into something tougher. Colder.
She’s scared somebody else will leave.
I watch her from the corner of my eye, and it all seems to fall into place.
She’s not just stubborn and independent.
She’s afraid.
She’d rather run herself into the ground than depend on someone else to take care of her home again.
That’s what La Grange Rouge is to her: home. It’s the place she managed to cling to even after she lost her dad and all the things that fell apart in his absence.
Suddenly, helping her with the barn chores in the morning doesn’t just feel like a petty win against her stubborn side.
It feels like an honor, like a gift I didn’t even realize I was receiving.
“Okay, I’ll back off,” Natalie says. “I’m getting ahead of myself. With the inn doing so well, it’s hard not to feel like the business tycoons of La Cloche.”
Brooke gives her an admiring pat on the shoulder, and we move on to discussing Balsam Inn. Natalie and Jacinthe have some anecdotes about a few of the more memorable guests so far, and we all lament the fact that Maddie isn’t here to chip in with some stories of her own.
“We really do need to start interviewing for an evening receptionist,” Natalie says, “or else we’re never going to get all three of us out for drinks again.”
She turns to me with a playful grin.
“What do you say, Tess? Want to join the Balsam Inn team?”
I chuckle along with her.
“Oh trust me, I’m not a behind the desk kind of girl,” I admit. “I’d go stir-crazy on the first shift and scare off all your guests. I don’t think I could ever go back to working inside.”
Natalie waves her beer at me. “You know what? You sound like a perfect business partner for this boarding stable at la grange .”
Jacinthe glowers and takes a deep breath, like she’s about to launch one of her signature strings of swear words straight at Natalie, but Natalie just waves her off.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” she cuts in. “I really will knock it off. It’s just nice to see Jacinthe getting along with someone so well.”
Jacinthe puffs out her chest.
“Hey!” she barks. “I get along with people. I get along with people really fucking well. I am a delight!”
Brooke muffles a laugh by taking a swig from her pint glass. Natalie spreads her hands like she’s resting her case.
I can’t stop the grin that spreads across my face. She is a delight, in her own fierce, unapologetic, profanity-spewing way.
“Cheers to that,” I say, raising my glass. “Cheers to the delightful Jacinthe Gauthier-Laframboise.”