Chapter 5
But making the dessert wasn’t nothing. It meant less time to work on my project with May, and I was starting to realize how compressed our schedule was if we wanted to be ready for the peak of leaf-peeping visitors.
I was alone behind the counter near the end of my shift when the door chimes jingled.
I glanced up from wiping down the register and grinned. “I’d been wondering when I’d see you, little miss!”
“Aunt Sadie!” My niece Mia broke her hand from Ryan’s and came running to the back of the bakery. I set down my rag and met her at the break in the counter, scooping her into my arms and twirling her around once—our sacred tradition.
She squeezed me tightly and laughed while I inhaled the strawberry shampoo scent of her blonde curls.
She pulled back to look at me, a suspicious streak of chocolate at the edge of her grin.
“I was worried you weren’t coming,” I said.
“Sorry,” Ryan said. “Lily’s mom called, and she wanted to talk to Mia.”
“Well, who could blame her for that?” I tickled Mia, and she wriggled and giggled until I put her down. She ran behind the counter and began looking into the display.
Mrs. Keller was a stickler about not letting non-employees behind the counter, but she couldn’t resist Mia.
“How you doin’?” Ryan asked.
“Good,” I said. “Just finishing up for the day before—” My heart clenched. I couldn’t say before I head to Carver Farm. “Before I head out,” I finished lamely.
He didn’t notice; he was watching Mia.
Ryan was three years older than I was. His hair was the lightest of the family—light brown in the winter but sun-kissed in the summer.
He’d always been handsome, fun, and well-liked, which was probably why he’d ended up with Lily.
They’d gone all in on the football star and head cheerleader cliché.
They’d been on again, off again for a long time, but ultimately—despite all the drama James had caused—they’d ended up together.
I was glad they had; Lily was sweet and fun.
One of the times they’d broken up, Ryan had shown up at Lily’s cheerleading competition just to clap for her. He hadn’t even stayed to talk; he’d just wanted to support her, even amidst their disagreement.
They’d been like that—not knowing quite how to make it work, but unable to truly walk away. The one positive outcome of what had happened with James all those years ago was that it had jarred them both into realizing what was at stake.
They’d been rock solid ever since.
Ryan smiled as he watched his daughter, leaning his arm on the top of the display. “This is the best part of her week.”
“Mine too.”
I’d have to meticulously wipe down the fingerprint smudges she was tracking all over the display case, but visits from Mia were my favorite—and Mrs. Keller’s too.
“She’s obsessed with you,” Ryan said.
“I’m more obsessed with her.”
Ryan smiled and met my gaze. “Thanks for being so good to her, Sade.”
I swallowed the little bubble of emotion in my throat. “Thanks for giving me the cutest niece in the world. You want that muffin, Mimi?”
She had paused, her nose pressed against the glass until she looked like a pig. Eyes wide with desire, she nodded.
“Well, it’s too bad you can’t have that one,” I said with an apologetic grimace.
Mia turned to me, her brow puckered and her bottom lip ready to tremble. “Why not?”
“Because,” I said significantly, “I saved an even bigger one for you.”
Instantaneous joy sent her running over to me. “Where? How bigger?”
I scooped her up, twirled around, then carried her to the counter, setting her on top. “In my secret spot.” I opened an empty ceramic canister and pulled out a large if somewhat demented muffin. Mrs. Keller wouldn’t allow such a visual atrocity in her display.
Mia had lower standards and looked like I’d just presented her with a season pass to Disneyland.
“What do we say, Mia?” Ryan prompted.
The response that came out of her mouth was unintelligible but genuine.
“Close enough.” Ryan watched her with a doting twinkle in his eye, then looked at me. “Thanks again.”
“You want something? I’ve got a freakish-looking maple cinnamon bun if that appeals to you. It didn’t pass Mrs. Keller’s quality control.”
“Poor thing,” he said. “Fine. I’ll take it. But only out of pity.”
“Right.” I grabbed the rejected bun just as Mrs. Keller emerged from the back room, head down as she dusted off her apron.
“Are you heading to the Carvers’ right away, Sadie?” Her head came up, and she stopped short at the sight of Ryan.
All the muscles in my body clenched as heat filtered up my neck and into my face. I could feel Ryan’s eyes on me.
“Oh,” Mrs. Keller said with welcome surprise as her gaze shifted from him to behind the counter. “Is that my favorite little hooligan back there?”
“Can I come see the big machine, Mrs. Kehwer?” Mia asked, face covered in crumbs.
“Of course you can!” Mrs. Keller went to help Mia down from the counter, barely wincing when Mia took her hand with a sticky one.
They headed for the kitchen as Mia talked Mrs. Keller’s ear off.
There was a beat of awkward silence once they disappeared, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at my brother.
“You’re going to the farm?” he asked.
I grabbed the rag I’d discarded on their arrival so I’d have something to do with my hands.
“Um, yeah. I’m doing a little baking project there.
” I began wiping down the glass Mia had smudged.
Mrs. Keller had a particular product she wanted used on the glass, but I was too desperate to care. I’d redo it later.
“What do you mean?”
I forced myself to meet my brother’s gaze. “The farm has a huge maple surplus, so Mrs. Keller and I figured we should do what we could to help out. Come up with a couple products they can use it in and sell.”
I cringed at my own wimpiness, laying the blame on Mrs. Keller like that. She had been the one to suggest I do it, but it was my original idea, and I was the one making it happen. I could drop it, and Mrs. Keller wouldn’t care a bit. And it certainly wasn’t affiliated with the bakery.
There was a crease in Ryan’s brow as he looked at me.
My conscience squirmed. Should I tell him I’d seen James?
No.
That was a bridge too far.
James would be gone soon. It’d be like he was never here—just the way Ryan liked it. He was happier in his ignorance, and depriving him of that ignorance wouldn’t accomplish anything but kick up unpleasant memories.
“So, you’re working with May?” His voice was a bit tighter than usual.
“Yeah.”
His lips pressed together.
No doubt, he was remembering their infamous run-in.
A couple of days after James had left, Ryan and my parents had run into May at the grocery store.
She’d laid into him right then and there.
Called him selfish and a bad friend, which had seemed ironic, given that James was the one who had just kissed Ryan’s girlfriend.
May Carver was one of the kindest people I knew—but she could be a firebrand.
Southern sweetness and spice, all wrapped together.
My parents hadn’t taken the insults lying down and…well, from what I’d heard after the fact, they’d said plenty of awful things too.
Everyone had come to the grocery store hurt, and they’d left even more so.
Since then, our families had just kept our distance.
“You think that family deserves your help?” Ryan asked.
It was a rhetorical question, but even if it hadn’t been, I wouldn’t have known how to answer. Or maybe I just wouldn’t have been brave enough to.
I’d hoped that time would slowly heal Ryan’s anger toward the Carvers, but the feeling of betrayal was too deep.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Mia came running out of the back. “Mrs. Kehwer let me pwess the button!” She ran straight into his knees.
He winced and picked her up. “And what happened when you pressed the button?”
Her eyes widened like she needed him to prepare himself. “It…spinned. Real fast. Like this.” She whipped her sticky pointer finger around and around.
Ryan’s mouth stretched into a smile. “Look at my big girl, baking things.”
Mia launched into a more thorough explanation of the big machine’s capabilities, halting our conversation.
Ryan seemed his usual self, which gave me hope that maybe he wasn’t too bothered by my plans.
He might have felt differently if he’d known James was in town.
Car loaded up with baking ingredients and my admittedly pathetic arsenal of cleaning supplies, I headed to Carver Farm an hour later.
I didn’t have a solid sense of how long it would take to clean the kitchen, but I was secretly hoping I might be able to get in some baking.
Given the state of the place, I was pretty sure that was a pipe dream, but I was anxious enough to get started that I was considering staying until bedtime if it meant making progress on actual baking.
I’d never had a fully functioning commercial kitchen at my creative disposal.
I knocked on the door to get the key, my nerves firing up at the thought that James might answer.
But it was May who came to the door, looking like I might have just woken her from a nap.
“Just give me thirty seconds, and I’ll get on some shoes to come help,” she said through the screen door.
“No, no, no, Mrs. Carver,” I insisted. “I don’t need your help.”
She shot me a raised brow.
“I just mean…I’m happy to do it. No need for you to come.” I doubted cleaning would be a good activity for a woman whose knee and hands were giving her trouble.
“I haven’t been in the kitchen for a while, darlin’, but I happen to know it’s a disaster area in there. Dust stuck to old maple is the worst kind of thing to clean up. Trust me.”
I shrugged. “I don’t mind. Really.”
She looked at me suspiciously, but the fact that she wasn’t insisting was evidence enough that she would prefer not to go. “At least let me get James to come help. I think he went to the stables again, but I can call him.”
“No.” The word came out more strongly than I’d intended.
May watched me quietly for a few seconds.
“Sorry…it’s just…” I didn’t know how to finish.
“He’s a good man, Sadie.” Her words were soft. Almost sad.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I really don’t mind working on my own. It’s nice to have some time with my thoughts after a busy day.”
May smiled, but I was sure she didn’t totally believe me. “All right, darlin’. I’ll leave you to it, then.”
She gave me the key, and I grabbed the small box of cleaning supplies from my car, then headed down the trail to the sugar shack, May’s words pinging around in my head.
He’s a good man, Sadie.
Said every mom ever.
It made me wonder, though, what exactly she believed about James. Did she not believe he’d done anything wrong? Or did she just think he deserved forgiveness for it?
I set down the box to unlock the sugar shack, this time using the entrance that led directly into the kitchen. Balancing the box on my hip, I pushed open the creaky door and stepped inside.
I stopped on the threshold as the door swung against my back.
This was not the same kitchen I’d taken inventory in yesterday. The counters were clear, the floor had been swept, and the appliances gleamed.
My gaze went to the back corner of the L-shaped counters, where containers of all four types of maple syrup had been stacked neatly, ready for use.
Footsteps sounded in the next room, and James appeared in the doorway from the evaporator room, a box in his arms. He was wearing a thick canvas jacket, a pair of jeans, and the worn work boots I’d seen at the door yesterday.
He slowed at the sight of me, and our eyes met. After a moment, he broke his gaze away, then took the box to the counter where the maple jars sat.
“Did you do this?” I asked.
He set the box down. “It was a mess.”
I let out a laugh. “I know.” I held up the box of cleaning supplies in my arms.
He came over and took it from me.
“I didn’t mean—” I cut myself off. I was pretty sure he knew I hadn’t held it up for him to take it. “Thank you. For cleaning. You really didn’t have to.”
He set down my box and looked at me. “It was the least I could do.”
I tried not to shift under his gaze. I’d known James most of my life, but I couldn’t remember many times when he’d just…looked at me.
It was what I’d craved for years, but only now that I didn’t see him that way was I experiencing it.
Life was weird like that.
“I appreciate what you’re doing,” he said. “Especially given…” He rubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw. “Is there anything else I can do?”
I’d spent the last eight years frustrated with James Carver. It was easy to be angry with a memory. You could shape it into something worthy of your annoyance. It was a lot harder to maintain that anger when the memory had been replaced with flesh and blood and had just saved you hours of work.
Here? Now? James looked so…human. Not like the ogre my brain had shaped him into.
“Thank you,” I said, “but you’ve done plenty. Now I can get started on baking.”
He gave a nod. “I’m just gonna be”—he jabbed a finger over his shoulder—“cleaning up the other room.”
I hesitated. “I can help you…” It was only fair.
He shook his head. “Your time is better spent in here. Thanks, though.” He disappeared into the evaporator room.
I took in a slow breath. I was still getting used to this situation—seeing James pop up out of nowhere, so familiar and yet so changed.
I headed to my car and opened my trunk, then stared into it, hands on my hips. When I’d bought all of these ingredients at the store, one of the employees had helped me load everything into my trunk. Thanks to multiple fifty-pound bags of flour, my car was sitting lower than usual.
Squatting like a competitive bodybuilder, I scooped one of the bags into my arms and let out a breath. This would be…fun.
I waddled my way toward the sugar shack, thinking Thor thoughts.
It didn’t work.
I let the bag slip out of my arms and onto the ground. Breathing hard, I looked at the path ahead of me, which was definitely made for humans, not cars. I was halfway there—on my first bag of flour.
I should’ve thought this through more. Could I drive my car right up to the sugar shack?
A UTV came around the back corner of the shack, James at its wheel. Behind it was a small trailer.
He slowed as he approached me, then came to a stop, the engine rumbling. He put it in park and got out.
“Remember a few minutes ago when I asked you what I could do to help?” He leaned over and picked up the flour sack. “This sort of thing was what I meant.”
I reached for the sack. “I’ve totally got it.”
His lip lifted at one edge as he set the flour in the trailer. “Hop on,” he said as he got back in the driver seat. “We’ll go back to your car and get the rest.”
I hesitated. Ryan’s face was in my head. He would not support this…fraternizing with the enemy.
James’s gaze was on me, and it seemed to harden at my hesitation. “You can head to the sugar shack. I’ll bring everything down.” He looked ahead and put the vehicle in gear.
Heart thumping, I called out, “Wait for me.”