Starting Over in Maple Bay by Brittney Joy

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

 

 

 

Hazel’s first full day on the job was surprisingly fun. Frankie put her in charge of preparations for the summer riding camps, which were set to start next week. While Frankie taught lessons and took care of the horses, Hazel did some of her favorite things—planning and organizing. She made lists, planned meals, grocery shopped, and created activities to keep the kids busy when they wouldn’t be with the horses. The first group of campers would be five kids that had little to no experience with horses, and it was the perfect group for Grace to join to learn all the basics of horse care and riding. Hazel was still worried for Grace’s safety, but her anxieties waned as she watched Frankie give lessons and handle the horses. Frankie could’ve been a teacher. She was amazing with the kids. And all of Frankie’s horses were extremely well-mannered and gentle. Plus, it helped that Hazel was now part of the riding camp. She’d be around to experience it all with her daughter. Surprisingly, Hazel found herself excited for Grace’s first ride.

“What do you say to Hazel?” Frankie said to her boys as they put the last of the dirty dishes on the kitchen counter next to the sink.

“Thank you for dinner!” All three boys replied in a chorus. Grace and the boys had cleared the table. Hazel and Frankie were washing the dishes.

Hazel rinsed off the last bowl and handed it to Frankie. “You’re welcome. I’m so glad you liked it.” Hazel had made one of her and Grace’s favorites, homemade macaroni and cheese with grilled chicken. She loved seeing it get gobbled up through smiles.

Frankie dried off the bowl and put it in the cupboard. “Where’d you learn to cook?”

“My mom,” Hazel answered. “I used to help her a lot in the kitchen growing up. She loves to cook and always made it fun. We’d pick out recipes together, and she always made me a part of the cooking process, even when I was little. Some of my earliest memories are of Mom and I in the kitchen. We still cook a lot together. Grace loves to help too.”

“That’s really sweet.”

Hazel drained the sink of the warm, bubbly water. “Did Rose like to cook?” Hazel was picking up bits and pieces of information about Rose from pictures and a few short conversations, but had generally shied away from the topic of her biological mother. It was the first time she’d asked a direct question to Frankie about Rose.

“She liked to bake more than cook, but she was good at both. I used to help her, too, but not because I liked it. I’d rather do just about anything outside than spend an hour in the kitchen.” Frankie shrugged. “Cooking and cleaning aren’t my thing. Guess I missed out on that gene.”

Hazel was wiping down the counter, but stopped when she realized Frankie was insinuating that Rose had somehow passed a cooking gene onto Hazel. She felt herself retreating from the conversation. Hazel’s love of cooking came solely from her mother, Sandy. Not from Rose. Swallowing the thought, Hazel continued wiping down the counter.

Frankie dried a few forks and put them in the silverware drawer. “She wasn’t a fancy cook, but she could whip up a casserole like no other. And, she made a mean margarita.”

“Do you have a Tupperware I can borrow?” Hazel asked Frankie, redirecting the conversation.

“Sure, help yourself. They’re all in the cabinet to your left.”

Hazel bent down and picked out a square container and lid. “I’m going to drop off a few pieces of pie at Jesse’s.” She cut a few slices from the peanut butter pie she’d made for dessert and slid them into the container.

“Okay.” Frankie quirked an eyebrow at Hazel.

“As a thank you.” She snapped the lid on the container. “He dropped off new hinges for the hay door yesterday, and offered to hang it this weekend.” Hazel wanted to bring him a peace offering. They’d had a rocky introduction, but Jesse was her neighbor. And a friend of Frankie’s. Hazel wanted to make nice.

“Well, tell him he should be honored to get a few pieces of that masterpiece. And I’m not so sure it should be wasted on him,” Frankie teased, light-heartedly.

“I’ll make sure he knows.” Hazel grinned, knowing that Frankie and Jesse had a playful relationship. From what she’d seen, they acted more like brother and sister than friends.

“I’ll meet you at the carriage house in a half hour? So we can paint the cabinets?” Frankie asked.

Last night, Frankie had come to the carriage house with the kids and helped Hazel finish sanding the kitchen cabinets. She’d brought a pitcher of lemonade and a board game, which kept all four kids occupied and laughing while they worked.

Hazel wiped her hands on the dish towel. “That’d be great. I picked up brushes and a gallon of stain at the hardware store while I was in town today.” Frankie was awfully handy with a sander, but Hazel was also enjoying her company. She’d almost forgotten how nice it was to have a girlfriend to talk to. Hazel had lost touch with most of her close girlfriends after she married Bill. She’d allowed herself to get wrapped up in his life while accidentally letting go of her own. “See you in just a bit. Come on, Grace. Let’s go deliver this pie.”

Hazel and Grace left Frankie’s and followed the dirt road to the carriage house before skirting around the back. As they walked toward the lake and Jesse’s quaint cottage, Hazel wondered if Jesse lived alone. Would his wife or girlfriend answer the door? Should she have brought three pieces of pie? Hazel hadn’t noticed a wedding ring, but she hadn’t really been looking. He had a daughter, so there was a woman in the picture—whether it was present or past. Was it strange that she was showing up at his doorstep late in the evening with a container of pie?

Before she could get too lost in her head, Grace skipped ahead and called out, “I’ll knock.”

A deck wrapped around the house and expanded off the back to overlook the lake. Jesse’s truck was parked in the drive so Hazel figured he was home. Grace tromped up onto the deck and rapped on the screen door. By the time Hazel joined her, Jesse was approaching the door. He looked like he’d just finished work as he was still in jeans, a black t-shirt, and his signature baseball cap. His dark hair flipped out the bottom of the cap.

“Hey,” he said, opening the screen door and looking confused.

Hazel gave a wave. “Hey. Wanted to drop off some peanut butter pie as a thank-you for the hinges and the offer of fixing my door.” She raised the Tupperware.

He stepped out onto the deck and Hazel heard someone inside. It might’ve been his daughter. Hazel felt out of sorts, like she was interrupting his evening. “I hope you like it.” She awkwardly pushed it toward him. When he took it, Hazel started backing up. “If you don’t eat it tonight, make sure to put it in the fridge. There’s cream cheese and whip cream in it, so it’ll go bad if you leave it out. Okay, Grace. Let’s get going. Say good night to Jesse.” Hazel was babbling, but couldn’t stop herself.

“Wait,” Jesse said. “You made this?”

Hazel nodded.

“It’s my favorite,” Grace added, ignoring Hazel’s cues to retreat. “It’s basically a peanut butter cheesecake.”

Jesse’s eyes widened and he stared through the container lid.

“It’s my Mom’s recipe. Homemade graham cracker crust and all,” Hazel said.

“Wow, thank you.” He looked up from the pie. “Charlie and I love peanut butter.”

Footsteps pattered toward the door. “Who here, Daddy?” The little blonde girl peered through the screen door. “Hi!”

“Hi, Charlie.” Hazel waved back. “This is my daughter, Grace.”

“Hi,” Grace added.

Charlie bounced and waved her hand, which was holding a small pink bottle. “Daddy, can I paint their nails too?”

Jesse looked slightly flustered. “You caught us in the middle of a spa day.” He shrugged his shoulders and that’s when Hazel noticed Jesse’s hand—the one holding the pie. His fingernails were painted an array of pinks and purples. There were a few extra smears on his knuckles. The polish was a complete contradiction to the rest of him. He was tall, over six feet, and everything about Jesse screamed of a strong cowboy—his dusty clothes, worn boots, and the muscles his t-shirt couldn’t hide. But he let his daughter paint his nails? The sweetness of that caught Hazel completely off guard.

Charlie opened the screen door, stepped outside, and reached for Grace’s hand. “Can you paint mine?”

Grace took her hand. She’d always been good with younger kids. “Sure.” Before Hazel thought-twice about what was happening, Charlie led Grace inside.

Jesse ran his other polished hand over the top of his baseball hat. “Do you want to come inside?”

“Uh, sure. For a few minutes.” Hazel awkwardly grinned, feeling like she’d just invited herself over.

Jesse opened the door for Hazel, and she stepped inside, straight into the living room where Charlie and Grace had already made themselves comfortable. They were sitting on the floor next to the coffee table, which was covered in a towel. Five or six polishes sat on the towel. Grace was helping Charlie pick out a color.

Jesse walked into the galley kitchen and opened the fridge door. “I can’t wait to try this.” He put the pie in the fridge. Hazel glanced at his hand again, which was propped on top of the open door.

Left hand. No ring.

Then she scolded herself for caring. What did it matter if he was married? She was not looking for anything. Not a boyfriend, not a husband, not even a date.

“I take it off after Charlie goes to bed.” Jesse closed the refrigerator door, and Hazel realized he thought she was looking at his polished nails. “Most of the time, anyhow. One time I fell asleep on the couch and forgot to set my alarm. I was running late, and by the time I dropped off Charlie at my parents’ place, it was too late to do anything about it. I went to four barns that day to work horses.”

Hazel pictured Jesse riding and training horses with pink fingernails. “Did anyone notice your manicure?” She stifled a smirk.

“The nice thing about my line of work is that I can wear gloves.” He shrugged a shoulder and slid a grin at Hazel. “Can I get you anything to drink? Water? Or—” Jesse opened his fridge again. “A juice box?”

This time Hazel chuckled. “No, I’m okay. We just finished eating over at Frankie’s and I need to get going, anyhow. Frankie is going to help me stain cabinets tonight. She’ll be over after she gets the boys cleaned up.”

Hazel looked around. Jesse’s home was tidy and cozy. The living room had an overstuffed couch and armchair. There was a brick fireplace, and the mantle was filled with pictures of Charlie. The backside of the living room was all windows which looked out onto the deck and lake. Blue, Jesse’s dog, lay sleeping under the windows. The dog wore a tutu. Hazel thought it looked like Charlie had both males in this house wrapped around her little finger.

Jesse joined Hazel in the living room. “How was your first day?” he asked.

Hazel hadn’t seen Jesse at the barn today. “Of work?”

“Frankie said you’re going to help her with the summer camps. And that Grace is going to get to ride.”

Grace kept her eyes on Charlie’s fingers as she painted them, but interjected their conversation. “Frankie said I get to ride Stormy.”

The horse’s name distracted Hazel from Jesse. “Stormy?”

“Yeah, he’s gray and he has a super long, pretty tail. He’s a retired police horse,” Grace said.

Most animals got their names for a reason. When Hazel was in middle school, they had a neighbor with a cat named “Monster.” Monster used to hide in the bushes and lurch out at unsuspecting prey. Usually, it was a bird. Sometimes it was Hazel. “Can’t she put you on something with a sweeter name? Like Daisy? Or Butterscotch?”

“Actually, Stormy is a sweetheart,” Jesse interjected. “He got his name because of his coat color. Being a retired police horse, he’s literally seen everything. Nothing scares him. He’d ride into a burning building if his rider asked him to.”

Grace looked triumphant after Jesse’s comment. “Plus, he’s really cute.”

“And there’s that.” Jesse smiled. “Haven’t you met Stormy yet? While you were working?”

“I don’t really do much with the horses, but I’ve gotten to know a few of them. Mostly I’m helping with the administrative stuff, and I’ll be wrangling children during the camps.” Hazel used Frankie’s word.

“Sorry I startled you yesterday,” Jesse offered, and Hazel was thrown off by his quick topic change. She remembered how she’d reacted when he’d shown up in the hayloft and gave her a heart attack. If she’d had something more significant than sandpaper in her hand, she would’ve thrown it at him. “I know that’s your place now and I shouldn’t have taken it upon myself to just walk in. Although, I promise I looked for your car before I went in. I didn’t see it, so I figured you weren’t there. And I called for you, but you obviously couldn’t hear me with your headphones in. Won’t happen again.”

Hazel knew she shouldn’t have reacted so strongly to his simple act of kindness. It was just that she didn’t want a man to feel like he could encroach on her space as he saw fit. She’d gone through a lot to recover from the last man that had consumed her life and then ripped it to shreds.

She pursed her lips. “I believe you. Just please try not to scare me to death again. Like, yell louder next time.”

Jesse huffed. “Okay.”

“And you didn’t see my car because I sold it.”

“You sold it?” The ease on Jesse’s face faded. “Why?”

“To pay for the repairs for the carriage house.” That was all she was about to tell him. She wasn’t about to elaborate and explain that she had a few hundred dollars in her bank account before she sold the car. “Grace, honey. Are you almost done? Frankie will be over soon, so we need to get going.”

Grace screwed the top back on the coral-colored polish and blew gently on Charlie’s nails. “Now, don’t touch anything until your dad says you can. Okay?”

Charlie nodded her head in immediate agreeance.

Hazel started to turn for the door.

“Thank you for the pie,” Jesse said. “And if you’re around this weekend, I can get that hay door fixed for you.”

“I’ll be around.”

“Daddy, you said we’d watch a movie this weekend.” Charlie had her hands out and fingers splayed.

“We will, sweetie. Friday night.” Jesse looked back at Hazel. “We’re having a pizza and movie night. You and Grace are welcome to join us.”  

Hazel’s heart lurched, but Charlie squealed, delighted by her dad’s suggestion.

“Please,” Charlie said, and she pressed her little hands together like she was praying, careful not to touch the polish. “Can you and Grace watch a movie with me?”

Hazel was ready to spew out excuses when Jesse mentioned pizza and a movie, but the offer was completely different coming out of Charlie’s mouth.

“We haven’t done that in a while,” Grace said, looking eager. Hazel was effectively trapped.

Hazel pressed her lips together, but ultimately gave in. “Sure.”

Charlie hopped and squealed. Grace smiled. And Hazel told herself she’d just made a playdate with her neighbor. Because there was no way she was going on a real date with the way-too-handsome-for-his-own-good cowboy. Even if he did let his daughter paint his nails.