Chapter 3
Rowan
The carriage rocked from side to side as the driver guided the horses from the paved road onto the dirt path. Earlier in the week, we'd hung lights on the tree branches to make the carriage rides more romantic. I hadn't realized that I'd be experiencing it for myself.
When we first got inside, Hattie had been quiet and stiff.
I got the impression that she was uncomfortable to be close to me after so many years.
I didn't know who she was anymore. I'd heard rumors over the years that her father had a drinking problem before he died.
But I wasn't close enough to Hattie to offer her support.
This was my chance to rekindle our friendship and find out what had been going on in her life since we drifted apart.
But I had a feeling she didn't want to let me in.
I wanted to get back to where we used to be.
When we'd talked about everything: homework, friends, and family situations. When everything was easy.
But I knew if I pushed her, she'd refuse to play along. She'd bolt, and then where would I be? In a worse situation, where I was a jilted fiancé trying to open a brewery. I didn't need that kind of disruption in my life.
So it was important for me to play this smart. I'd already manipulated her into playing the part of my fiancée. I needed to be patient. She was doing me a favor and had the right to back out.
I'd bide my time, taking advantage of this arrangement I'd unwittingly thrown us into. I opened the tin of cookies and presented them to her.
A small smile played on her lips as she perused the cookies. "I thought it would be fun to offer these with the drinks."
"They were under the table."
Her gaze flicked away. "I didn't think anyone would buy them. I'm not a baker like Reina."
The cookie was firm on the outside but soft on the inside, and the spices exploded in my mouth. I chewed and swallowed, chasing the cookies with hot cocoa. "These are better than my mom's. Don't tell her."
She smiled. "Don't worry. I won't."
We ate cookies and sipped our hot chocolate as the carriage proceeded down the path. The lights made the entire ride feel like a dream.
I'd wondered for years why Hattie had pushed me away, and I couldn't believe she was sitting next to me now.
I never would have thought to do something as drastic as concocting a story to get close to her, but it had worked.
I just wondered how long she'd go through with it.
She promised me four to six weeks, just long enough to get through the holiday season and maybe the grand opening of my brewery.
I wouldn't hold her to her promise, even if I wanted her to keep it.
"Opening the brewery is a big deal."
"It's a big deal to me. Is that what you mean?"
She brushed the crumbs off her hands. "Not exactly. I just mean a reporter was interviewing you. It sounded like they were talking about it on social media, and the community is really involved in the opening."
"I think people get excited when something new opens around town. The last time we did anything was when we opened the restaurant. But this is different. I think people are curious about what it will be like."
"I'd never heard of a brew bath before people started talking about you opening one," Hattie said.
"I learned about them when I was researching breweries.
I wanted to do something unique but also give people what they expect from a brewery with the huge windows and the equipment on display.
Malcolm asked his friend Beck to let us know what he thought about the idea.
He thinks it will bring people in." I hadn't talked to anyone outside of my family about this, but I trusted Hattie.
I probably shouldn't. She could be a different person now.
It had been years since we were friends, and I still wasn't sure of the exact reason she'd pushed away from me.
She'd been listening intently to me, and when I trailed off, she glanced away. "It is different."
"When we open, you should try the brew bath." Would she wear a one-piece suit or a bikini?
She played with the edge of the blanket. "I'm pretty busy with the hot-chocolate truck. I've been taking every gig I can get."
I settled back in the cushioned seat. "It's not open yet, but the baths are done. You can come by whenever."
"That's nice of you," she said simply, as if she had no intention of taking me up on my offer.
She was skittish, and since I didn't know the reason she was distant, I'd have to be careful with her.
"We're thinking of hosting the family one night to give them the full experience.
Not everyone was on board with the brew bath idea.
I'm hoping once they experience it, they'll see why it's a good idea. "
"Your family didn't support your business plans?" Hattie asked me, shifting so that she was slightly facing me.
"Malcolm was against it. You know him. He's always got to be the one who comes up with the idea.
And he prefers to keep things simple. An inn.
A restaurant. A brewery. Nothing different.
Always go with the tried-and-true. We presented the idea to the family, and he didn't like it.
Somehow, Beck convinced him, and I'm forever grateful. "
"I had no idea. I just assumed that the Harts did whatever they wanted, and you all went along with it. You support each other no matter what."
I chuckled at her characterization of our family. "I think you're forgetting all the arguing we did when you hung out with us."
She smiled. "Yeah, but you were kids then."
"Not much has changed. Malcolm is still the leader, the one in charge. We're supposed to get an equal vote in the business, but he's used to getting his way. If the brewery fails—" I broke off, not wanting to say it out loud.
She touched my leg over the blanket, and I felt her touch through the thick material. "I'm sure it will be great. How could it not be? You're a Hart."
That last sentence made me pause. What had she meant by that? "Not everything we do is successful."
She scoffed. "Please. The inn has been in your family now for two generations going on three. Malcolm opened the restaurant, and it only made your property more popular. Now with the brewery, you've really built something you can be proud of."
She was giving me a compliment, but for some reason, it felt like she was critiquing me and my family. "I'm aware that it's easier for me to open a business. My grandparents had already started the inn, and Malcolm added the restaurant. I'm not starting something from nothing."
She let out a sigh.
"How's your business doing?" I remembered when she came to the tasting I hosted at the restaurant, and Beck asked her questions about it.
The skin around her lips tightened. "I'm doing everything I can to make it a success."
That wasn't really an answer. "Why a food truck and not a storefront?"
"I'm selling hot chocolate. I can hardly pay the lease on a storefront with the profits from that."
"Then why hot chocolate?" I asked, wanting to get to know her.
Her face softened. "I've always loved hot chocolate and how it transforms the winter season. It's comforting and sweet. You can spice it up with gingerbread or peppermint and add marshmallows or candy-cane shavings. Whenever you're out in the cold, a hot cocoa always hits the spot."
She liked it because it was a treat, warm and comforting. "Why sell hot chocolate and not something else with it?"
"Whenever I was upset, my mom always made hot cocoa. I think that's why I love it so much."
I rested my arm on the back of the bench, not touching her shoulders but offering her a solid show of support. "That's really sweet. You should tell people that."
Her startled gaze flew to mine. "You mean when they come to my window to order? Because no reporters are interviewing me."
"Beck thought it would be a good idea to tell the story of our family's inn, so we're printing it. We're also hunting for old pictures to add to it. You know, the inn before it was what it is today."
"You have quite a history with the inn to share. I hardly think my trite story about my mom making me hot chocolate when I was sad as a little girl is the same."
She was either putting herself down intentionally or didn't even realize she was doing it.
"I think it's just as important. Customers love to know the story behind the business.
That's how they relate to you. A good story can bring in a lot of business.
" Then I shook my head with a chuckle. "Or I've been spending too much time with Beck. His voice is in my head."
"I talked to him that time in the restaurant during the tasting. He asked me a lot of questions, and I was surprised. I assumed he'd think my truck was too small for him to even consider."
"Beck loves what he does. You can't take him into a store or restaurant without him asking a million questions about their business model. He's always evaluating."
"Ah. So it wasn't just me then."
"If he was talking to you, then he was interested in your business. Do you want me to ask him to talk to you about it? He loves to give unsolicited advice."
She looked away. "Oh, I couldn't afford him."
"I'm sure he'd help you for free. You are my fiancée."
"I looked him up after I talked to him. He was in several business magazines."
Had she been interested in him then? He was dating Clara, but they'd kept it a secret from everyone. That night, I'd hoped Hattie was thinking of me, but she'd looked up Beck.
She'd drifted away because she didn't want to be my friend anymore. She hadn't harbored a crush like I had.
"I wanted to know why he was so interested in my business. He didn't have to take the time to ask so many questions. He was nice."
I wondered if that meant she didn't have a lot of support. "Does your mom support your business?"
She winced. "We don't really talk about it. She's preoccupied with other things."
I wanted to ask what she could possibly be preoccupied with, other than her daughter, but she'd lost her husband. The rumor was that it was suicide, but I didn't want to bring up a painful topic tonight. "How's she doing?"
"She's okay."
That topic wasn't one she wanted to discuss. At least not with me. I'd already gotten more from her tonight than I had in years.
"Is this the brewery?" Hattie asked, leaning over me to get a better look.
The carriage had passed the brewery building when I wasn't paying attention. "Can you stop here for a minute?"
The driver acquiesced to my request.
The building was dark, but we'd hung lights around the area where guests would gather in the future to drink the brews and eat pizza. "What do you think?"
"It's amazing. You should be proud."
I was proud of what I'd built. But I was concerned that her tone was wistful.
Did she feel like her dreams were out of reach?
I was very aware of how privileged I was to already have the building and the property, Beck's expert advice, and my family's support.
She might not have any of that, and the thought made my chest ache.
"We wanted to create an inviting place where people would want to gather. "
"They're going to love it. It's secluded here in the woods, and with that outdoor area, you've really created something amazing."
"Thank you, Hattie. That means a lot." I wasn't sure I'd ever get a chance to talk to her like this again, and it was great being alone with her. Or at least mostly alone. The driver wasn't intruding on our conversation.
She smiled at me. "You're really doing it. You're living your dream."
The driver urged the horses to continue our ride, and I settled into the seat, content to be here with Hattie. "You are too."
The light dimmed in her eyes. "I put everything I had into the truck and the renovations. I'm not sure I'm going to be able to get a return on that investment."
"I can't imagine doing it on your own. I have my family who've already run two successful businesses, and even Beck, who's an expert at running businesses."
"It is hard. I talk to shop owners on occasion, but it's not the same. Some of them have online stores in addition to their storefronts."
"Have you talked to Meg?" She owned the coffee shop.
"I haven’t talked to her much about my business since selling from a truck is so different than a storefront.”
"Clara said that the shop owners are close and support each other."
Hattie sighed. "I'm friends with Clara and the others. But I'm not part of their group, if that makes sense."
Did she keep herself apart from others on purpose? Assuming she had to do it all on her own? I hated that for her. Was that why she'd pulled away from me so many years ago? She didn't want to rely on anyone?
I wasn't going to answer all my questions tonight. I didn't want to scare her away. But I could revel in my good luck. I'd wanted a way to talk to Hattie for years, and I'd come upon the perfect solution by accident. She was my fiancée, real or not; she couldn't avoid me anymore.
We had to spend time together and be seen around town. Hopefully, I'd get the answers I needed and discover who Hattie Collins was now.