Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Madison pulled into the Deer Creek Falls Lodge, specifically the condos that faced Balsam Lake, and parked in front of Mason and Eve’s summer place.
The lake shimmered in the early evening sun, a cool contrast to the warm air, which carried the unmistakable, mouthwatering scent of slow-smoked barbecue.
Her stomach growled as she stepped out of the car, stretching from the long drive. Okay, she thought, priority one—unpack. Priority two—find whatever heavenly place was making that delicious smell and throw money at them.
She popped the trunk and started unloading: two suitcases, a duffel bag, a box marked kitchen essentials, which really just held her favorite coffee mug and a fancy French press she refused to part with, and two large boxes labeled cider stuff.
She’d arranged for the rest of the cider that she’d offer at Brewfest to be delivered the day before the competition.
As she hoisted the last box onto her hip, something flapped against the front door. She squinted at it.
A brightly colored flyer, held in place by a piece of painter’s tape, announced the Fourth of July festivities.
Madison grinned. “Perfect.” She removed the poster from the door while balancing her bags and unlocked the door to her brother and sister-in-law’s condo.
She set the box down on the floor, took the hair band off her wrist, gathered her hair into a high ponytail, and walked to the patio doors to take in the view of the lake.
Two Adirondack chairs sat on the small cement patio, the edge of which lay just inches from the beach.
It was the kind of spot that begged for bare feet and early morning coffee.
Beyond the golden stretch of sand, only fifty yards away, the water sparkled under the afternoon sun, its surface rippling as a light breeze drifted across the lake.
Fishing boats and pontoons bobbed gently at the lodge’s modest marina, their hulls thudding softly against the wooden docks.
Even after all those years stationed and working near the ocean, she’d missed this—the stillness of a lake and the easy hush of birch trees swaying along the shoreline.
The kind of quiet that didn’t demand anything from her.
In uniform and on the job, everything had structure and weight; every movement meant something.
Out here, on a patch of concrete nudging the sand, she could just be.
She sank into one of the sky-blue Adirondack chairs without thinking. It took a full minute before she realized her shoulders were bunched up near her ears and another thirty seconds to let them drop.
Minnesota had always been in her bones—cold mornings, loons calling at dusk, lakes that shimmered like mirrors.
No wonder Mason bought a second home here, right next door to his best friend.
Her twin always knew what she needed, insisted she take the time, come up north, breathe for a while.
At the time, she’d rolled her eyes and blamed his overprotective instincts.
But now, sitting here with the lake stretching out in front of her and the promise of barbecue in the air, she could admit it.
He’d been right. She needed this more than she’d realized.
With one last glance at the water, she stood and turned toward the door. She’d get inside, unpack her bags quickly, and then follow her nose straight into town.
A black food truck sat parked at the end of Main Street, bold orange-and-yellow flames painted on the side to look as though they were licking up from the wheel wells.
Front and center, a comical grinning pig, barbecue tongs in hand, was depicted beneath the words SMOKEY JOE’S BBQ—Best Brisket North of the Twin Cities!
A crowd had already gathered around it. Madison joined the long line as she breathed in the aromas of the smoked meat and tangy sauce, making her want to climb through the window and hug the chef.
She barely had a minute to take in the menu before a voice called out, “What can I getcha, hon?”
Madison looked up to see a woman in a pink apron and colorful cat-eye glasses working the service window. Late fifties, sharp-eyed, and radiating no-nonsense charm, she had a pen tucked behind one ear and an air of someone who had seen everything and judged most of it.
“Ribs, coleslaw, and a side of cornbread, please,” Madison said, pulling out her wallet.
The woman scribbled the order down. “Name for the order?”
“Madison.”
There was a beat of silence. The woman’s sharp gaze raked over her like she was solving a puzzle before her eyebrows lifted. “Mitchell?”
Madison blinked. “Uh . . . yes?”
“You’re Mason’s sister. I heard you might be coming.”
Madison hesitated. “That’s correct—but how did you know?”
The woman grinned. “I’m Rosie. I own Rosie’s Diner down the street.
My niece, Sienna, owns this truck. I’m just helping out.
I’ve met your brother a few times when he’s been in town.
He’s a nice young man. Real polite.” She leaned in, her eyes twinkling.
“He told me he had a twin. You two don’t look exactly alike, but I see a resemblance. ”
“We get that a lot,” Madison said, wondering if she should start carrying business cards that read ‘Yes, we’re twins. No, we don’t look the same.’ ”
Seriously, why would anyone think boy-girl twins would look alike? We might be twins, but we aren’t identical . . . obviously.
Rosie nodded approvingly. “Well, welcome to Deer Creek Falls. You settlin’ in okay?”
“Just got in,” Madison admitted. “I’m staying at Mason and Eve’s place while I help Garrett get the brewery ready for opening.”
At the mention of Garrett, something flickered in Rosie’s gaze—interest, maybe amusement—but she schooled her features fast. “Oh, that’s right. It’s a shame about his arm,” she tsked. “And right before his grand opening. Bet he’s just loving having someone help him out.”
Madison huffed a laugh. “If by loving, you mean actively resisting with every fiber of his being, then yes.”
Rosie snorted. “Sounds about right.” She tore off the order slip and handed it to the cooks behind her, then tapped the Fourth of July flyer taped to the counter. “You should check out the bachelor auction while you’re here.”
Madison glanced at it. “Uh, pretty sure I’m not in the market for a small-town bachelor.”
Rosie grinned. “Oh, I wasn’t suggesting bidding. I just meant you might find it interesting.”
Madison narrowed her eyes. “Why do I feel like that’s code for something?”
Rosie ignored the question entirely. “Garrett’s filling in for his brother, Cole. Cole’s off visiting his girlfriend in Hawaii, so Garrett got roped into replacing him.”
Madison choked on air. “Wait—you’re telling me Garrett Reid is willingly participating in a bachelor auction?”
Rosie shrugged, too innocent. “ ‘Willingly’ might be a strong word.”
Madison stared at the flyer, then back at Rosie, a slow grin forming. “Well. This did just get interesting.”
Rosie handed her a to-go box with a wink. “Enjoy your ribs, honey.”