6. Mason
To say I feel torn is an understatement. Without my memory to guide me, I can’t make sense of what led me to Spruce Crossing. Christian is the obvious answer, my best friend has his veterinary clinic here, and this is his hometown. But was that enough to motivate me to move here?
Admittedly, the place is growing on me, especially with Mia as my guide, but it’s still not the city, a place where a restaurant would be successful. Restaurants already have such limited margins to begin with, and in a town of fifteen hundred people, could I really make my dream work? A dream I don’t even fully recall?
Today is proving to be my most difficult day. Christian is at his clinic, and Mia is at school. I’m all alone in the carriage house without a vehicle and without my memories, trying to figure out what to do next.
Mrs. Hargrove stops by to check on me around ten to see if I need anything, but I’m still living largely off the care package that Mia sent along on Saturday. She thought of everything: puzzle books, reading material, soup, and a homemade pie.
I can’t believe that woman is single, with her patience and kindness—never mind, she’s gorgeous.
Spooning the last of the chicken noodle soup into my mouth, I again pore over the handwritten notes I made before the accident and compare them to the ones that Mia and I wrote in the minivan during the cow jam.
The thought of the bovine backup brings a grin to my face. That’s something I’d never see in Spokane.
To my amazement, I realize that several of the dishes Mia suggested are aligned with the ones I wrote for myself. Smoked sage salmon with wild greens, for one, the house vinaigrette, a variety of in-house baked breads, and rolls with a signature garlic butter. There are a few discrepancies, but others can be tied in together.
She claimed not to be a chef, but she certainly has the right sense for cooking.
This still doesn’t change the fact that Spruce Crossing will not make my restaurant any money.
I flip through the pages and look at the décor plans, musing over the blueprints. Again, Mia had the right idea: handcrafted tables and booths by local designers—and local art! It’s almost as if she had seen the notes, but I know she couldn’t have.
The sound of tires on gravel steers me away from my studying, and I stand from the futon in front of the crackling fireplace to look out the window. My pulse quickens to see the red minivan.
My reaction to the redhead surprises me, and I will my heart rate to return to normal. I try to tell myself it’s because she’s the only person other than Christian and his mom who I recognize in town, but I already know it’s more than that.
I like Mia Reyes. A lot.
Her brilliant smile brightens the already sunny day when she catches my eye in the front window, and I think how lucky her students are to have her as a teacher. My teachers never looked like her.
Meeting her at the door, she shocks me with a hug. “I was thinking about you all day,” she admits. “How are you feeling?” Taken aback, I step out of her hold, and her grin fades. “Oh… I’m sorry,” she mumbles. “That was out of line.”
“No… I…” I clear my throat nervously, turning away. “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” Why did I pull back? I wanted a do-over. “How was school?”
“Good. Good. We’re going to make gingerbread houses next week, so the kids are really excited about that. I thought about telling them we’re only using fruit and broccoli to decorate, though.”
I glance at her and catch the impish glint in her eyes. “That’s horribly cruel.”
She shrugs. “This generation is a little spoiled,” she jokes, and I grin. Her eyes trail toward my open notebook. “Is that what I think it is?”
I nod. “I was going through it all day. Your notes are a lot like mine.”
“Yeah? Can I look?” I nod, and she kicks off her boots, ambling toward the futon to sit. “We have to get to Timberline’s before it closes at four.”
“We wouldn’t want to be held up by cows again,” I agree, and she shoots me an embarrassed look.
“That really doesn’t happen all that often.” Her attention turns back to the book, and she studies the writings carefully, nodding appreciatively. “Is this helping you remember at all?”
I smother a sigh. “Not really, no.”
She stands again and flashes me a pretty smile. “It’s all right. It will come back to you, Mason. I’m sure of it.”
“I wish I shared your confidence.”
“Come on. Let’s get going.”
We head out of the carriage house together, and a flash of gratitude splices through me as I realize how lucky I am to have her on my team, even if I’m not sure I’m on my team.
The Mercedes will cost moreto fix than to replace, so I opt to use the insurance check and buy a new vehicle.
“Probably for the best if you’re going to be driving in Montana winters,” Mia says lightly as we sit by the stage at the Daily Grind, sipping on coffee, a couple afternoons later. “Any thoughts about what you’re going to buy?”
“Christian thinks I should get an SUV or a pickup.”
“Is that what you want?” she asks, nodding pleasantly as someone waves at her from across the coffee shop. Everywhere we go, she’s recognized and acknowledged. It’s nice being in her presence and getting her undivided attention. It’s clear she’s well-loved in Spruce Crossing, but I realize that it’s not just her. Christian is also just as loved. The sense of community is unlike anything I’ve ever seen anywhere.
The smell of her hazelnut hot cocoa wafts into my nose, and I eye it. “I don’t know what I want to buy,” I inform her, pointing at her drink. “But I know I want one of those. I love hazelnut.”
“Here!” She shoves her drink in front of me. “Have a sip. Why didn’t you just order one?”
Peering down at my boring, regular coffee, I shrug. “I guess I’m a creature of habit,” I admit. “Doing what I know, what’s safe. I guess that’s why I got into tax law. Numbers are always numbers.”
“Are you afraid of taking risks?” she asks quietly.
I purse my lips. “I just think I do better with security. My father passed away when I was young, and I lost my mother when I was in college. I know nothing is forever. It just makes sense to plan for the future instead of living life without direction. There are too many disappointments that way.”
Mia’s eyes narrow curiously, and she leans in, reaching for my hands to wrap around her drink. “That can’t be true, not always,” she says gently. “Or you wouldn’t be here, in Spruce Crossing, opening your restaurant.”
I grimace. “I’m not opening my restaurant, and I don’t even know what I’m doing in Spruce Crossing,” I retort, but her hands remain firmly on mine.
“Drink the drink,” she urges me. “Come on.” She lets her hand fall away and nods encouragingly.
With a small laugh, I put the cup to my lips and sigh happily at the sweet taste. It has been years since I’ve had hazelnut. “I’m ordering one of these every time now.”
“I’ll let the barista know,” she promises. “Finish that.” She pauses. “And I think you are opening your restaurant. You put the order in for the tables, didn’t you?”
I sink back in my chair, my jaw twitching. “How did you know that?”
Mia shrugs. “I’m not trying to involve myself in your business, Mason. But that’s one pitfall of opening a business in a small town. Everyone knows your business.”
I frown, unsure if I like that.
“It doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” she adds quickly. “It also means that everyone has your back if something goes wrong.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing yet,” I answer tensely. “Yes. I put the order in, but that doesn’t mean anything. I had already signed a contract before the accident. I don’t have an opening date. I don’t have suppliers lined up. I don’t?—”
“Hey, hey,” she murmurs, putting her hand on my wrist. “Baby steps, all right? Rome wasn’t built in a day. You don’t have to do everything at once. The tables are a great start.”
We sit in silence for a moment, soft Christmas music piping out from the speakers in the corner of the coffee shop, and I take another sip of the hot chocolate. The sweetness of the hazelnut lessens my bitterness as I make a decision.
“Maybe I’ll buy an SUV,” I say suddenly, and her eyes light up.
“Yeah?”
“You can drive an SUV anywhere,” I respond and try not to feel ashamed as her face falls at my response.
I sendMia a text the following day.
Me: Come down! I have something to show you.
I wait in front of her apartment complex for a reply, drumming my fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. Two little kids in overstuffed snowsuits build a snowman in front of the main doors, their mothers chattering idly nearby as they watch. A small grin twists at the corners of my mouth.
Mia: Oh, good, you’re here! I have something for you too!Be right there.
Like an excited kid, I strain my neck to watch for her, checking the time and then the door, my eyes trailing back to the kids and their play until Mia finally flies out the front of the apartment building with something I can’t see in her hands.
She stops when she sees me, her eyes popping with interest, and resumes her steps toward the curb, her grin overtaking her face.
“You bought another Mercedes!” she laughs, throwing open the passenger side door. “I should have known!”
“I liked the look of it,” I argue. “And it’s an SUV.”
“You should have waited for me! Did you go to the dealership in Billings? My cousin works for them, so I could probably have gotten you a better rate.”
“I negotiated a good rate all by myself,” I inform her proudly. “Even if I had to name-drop you.”
She laughs and sticks her tongue out at my joke. “I still would have liked to have gone with you,” she sighs.
I eye the dish in her hand. “You’ve been working all week, and you’ve done more than enough for me already,” I remind her.
“We could have gone over the weekend,” she insists.
“I don’t need you worrying about me, Mia. Now, on to more important things. Why do you have a plate? Did I interrupt your dinner?”
She glances down at the plate in her hand and shakes her head.
“Ha! No. I made this for you,” she informs me, removing the tinfoil from the top of the plate to reveal a slice of chocolate cake. “But if it’s terrible, lie and tell me it’s amazing.”
“I promise I will,” I vow, reaching for it eagerly.
She tries to snatch it away. “You’re not going to eat it in here!” she gasps. “In your brand-new car!”
“The heck I’m not!” I challenge. “No one has ever made me a cake before… at least not that I remember. I’m going to stuff that whole thing in my face right here and now.”
Her face softens. “Honestly, Mason, I’m not sure it’s any good. I’ve been taking baking lessons from Mrs. J these past couple of weeks, and she says I’m getting better, but I don’t know…”
“Why don’t you let me try it and decide,” I laugh.
She blushes. “Seriously, it might be dry?—”
“Stop downplaying your baking talents. This looks amazing, and is this…” I inhale deeply, smelling the hazelnut undertones. My eyes pop. “Oh… oh, you didn’t!”
She smiles demurely and lowers her head. Producing a fork from her purse, she hands it to me, and I dig in without another word, taking a massive hunk and stuffing it in my mouth with no decorum at all.
Mia gawks at me and bursts out laughing as I chew, the sweet and savory sensations melting on my tongue as my eyes fall half-closed, embracing the feeling.
It hits me then—nostalgia, in a tsunami wave, consuming every pore of my body. Trembling, I set the cake plate down, and I swallow, my eyes hazing over.
“Mason?” Concern etches her voice. “Are you all right? Is it okay?”
I eat the last of the cake, setting the fork down on the console, and cup her cheek with my hand, my eyes wide and earnest.
“That was the best cake I’ve ever eaten in my life,” I whisper hoarsely, my breath hot against her face. I still don’t tell her why I had such an intense reaction.
She stares at me, her eyes sparkling with anticipation and a hint of nervousness. I gently cup her face in my hands, feeling the warmth of her soft skin against my palms. Time seems to slow down as I lean in closer, our breaths mingling in the narrow space between us. Her lips part slightly, a shaky smile forming on them as if she can barely contain her emotions.
Unable to resist any longer, I close the remaining distance and capture her mouth with mine. Our lips meet in a tender kiss that sends shivers down my spine. Her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me closer as she melts into the embrace. The world around us fades away, and all I can focus on is the softness of her lips.
We pour all the unspoken feelings and pent-up longing into this single, perfect moment. The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate and intense with each passing second. My heart races, pounding against my chest as if it”s trying to escape and join with hers. Her fingers tangle in my hair, sending delightful tingles across my scalp.
When we finally pull apart, breathless and flushed, her eyes flutter open, meeting mine with a gaze filled with affection.
“You must have really liked the cake,” she jokes.
I laugh at her quip, and emotion overcomes me as I struggle to find the next words.
“I don’t know what you put in it, Mia,” I rasp. “But I remember… I… I actually remember.”
Her smile fades, disbelief coloring her beautiful features. “What?! What are you saying?”
“I remember everything again! I know why I came to Spruce Crossing, my plans for Wild Sage. My memory is back!”