Starting Over in Maple Bay by Brittney Joy
CHAPTER NINTEEN
The following weekend brought Maple Bay Days, an annual event which always fell on the weekend closest to the Fourth of July. The whole town looked forward to and participated in the festivities. There was a rodeo, parade, carnival, and a barn dance. Jesse’s family had been involved with the town event since it started, nearly a hundred years ago. His great-great grandfather had been on the very first committee that planned and hosted the rodeo, which had grown into a well-respected event that drew competitors from all over the Midwest.
Ever since the beginning of Maple Bay Days, there’d always been a Weston on the rodeo committee. For the past thirty years, it had been Jesse’s dad, Gene. However, Gene wasn’t the only Weston involved with the festivities. Joyce and her sister, Judy, coordinated the Maple Mercantile—a tented area near the carnival and rodeo which was full of food vendors and shops. Jesse’s sister, Anne, organized the barn dance. Evan and Jesse were involved in the rodeo—running bucking shoots, riding as pick-up men, or doing any task to keep the rodeo running smoothly. Creed usually jumped in to help wherever needed as well—when he wasn’t competing in rodeo events.
Maple Bay Days was like Christmas in July—an event everyone in the town looked forward to—but Jesse couldn’t remember the last time he was this excited. Because this year he got to share it with Hazel and the girls.
“Knock, knock,” Jesse called loudly as he and Charlie entered the carriage house. He’d let himself in. Hazel had invited that since their conversation on the dock, but he still waited for Hazel to call back before he headed up the stairs to the loft. He didn’t want to give her a heart attack like he had before, though he wouldn’t mind if she fell into his arms again.
“I’m just finishing up the scones,” Hazel called, and Charlie ran for the stairs.
“What’s a scone?” Charlie yelled, disappearing into the loft.
Jesse followed and heard Hazel answering Charlie’s question.
“Wow,” he said, entering the loft. He’d intended to compliment the warm, sweet smell that filled the space, but his eyes landed on Hazel, Grace, and Charlie, and wow didn’t even describe a fraction of how he felt.
A few days ago, Jesse had helped to move and hook up a fridge and oven in the loft, completing Hazel’s kitchen. Hazel and Frankie discovered the almost-new appliances at an estate sale. They fit perfectly with the cabinets Hazel had sanded and stained, and this morning was the first time Hazel had used her new kitchen. A pan of scones sat cooling on the stove. Muffin tins and mixing bowls filled the deep farmhouse sink. Boxes and Tupperware full of goodies covered the counter. And in front of it all, Hazel stood, wearing a flour-dusted apron and a smile that went from ear to ear. Grace wore a matching apron and held a spatula. They both watched Charlie intently as Hazel bent down and popped a piece of a scone into Charlie’s mouth.
“What do you think?” Hazel asked as Charlie chewed.
Charlie’s eyes got big. “Can I have more?”
Hazel laughed. “Of course. Here, finish this one off.” She handed Charlie the rest of the triangular scone.
For a second, Jesse imagined what it would look like to come home to Hazel and the girls every day. To wake up with Hazel and make breakfast. To be a family.
“How about you, Jesse?” Hazel asked, pulling him out of his fantasy. “What do you want to try? I’ve got vanilla bean scones, chocolate croissants, blueberry lemon bars, and strawberry crumb cake muffins.”
“You made all that for the mercantile?” Jesse asked.
“Just four dozen of each. Your aunt said they could go through a few hundred bake goods at the coffee stand each day. I made a little extra. Couldn’t help myself.” Hazel gave him a slanted smile. “And I’ll make more tomorrow morning for the rest of the weekend.”
“Judy and Myra will be so excited.”
Jesse’s aunt, Judy, owned the coffee shop in town—Perkup Coffee—and she always had a very popular booth at the Maple Mercantile. Usually, Judy baked all the pastries for the shop, but she’d been doing less and less because of her bad hip. Her daughter, Myra, helped to run the shop, but barely had time to run the business, let alone bake all the goodies. They were shorthanded and overworked. When Joyce heard they might not have any pastries to offer at Maple Bay Days, she picked up the phone and called Hazel.
“I’m so thankful for the opportunity,” Hazel said. “And that your mom thought of me.”
“Mom and Judy have loved the desserts you’ve brought to Sunday dinner the past few weeks. They don’t hand out compliments easily when it comes to baking, and I’ve heard them gush over your desserts multiple times.”
Hazel glowed at the praise. “That makes me so happy. And I’m glad to help Judy. Plus, the money I make this weekend will help pay for a few more repairs around here.”
Jesse glanced around the loft. Outside of the kitchen, the rest of the space was empty. A floor sander and a few other tools sat in the corner where Hazel had started the process of refinishing the wood floor. “This floor is going to look amazing after it’s sanded and stained. You sure you don’t need help?”
“Honestly, I kind of like sanding,” Hazel replied. “With my headphones in, it’s actually relaxing. The sander does all the work. I just push it along. But if you’re offering, I could use someone to run the edge sander.”
“Deal.” He gave her a wink, impressed by everything Hazel was tackling by herself. She was getting better about accepting help here and there, but he didn’t think she realized what she accomplished daily. She was restoring an old carriage house, raising a respectful and kind daughter, and was working as Frankie’s fulltime assistant. Plus, this morning she baked enough pastries to feed the whole town. And it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet.
Hazel walked to the counter and snatched a pastry from a box. “Here. I want you to try a chocolate croissant.”
“Don’t waste that on me.” Jesse would gladly gobble up anything Hazel offered, but he didn’t want to eat into her profits.
“We can share it. I haven’t eaten anything yet this morning. Was too busy baking.” Hazel offered up the flaky pastry, but not for Jesse to take. She brought it to his lips, and he took a bite. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head when the butter and chocolate combined in his mouth.
“My goodness,” he mumbled.
“Is it good?” Hazel’s eyes flickered to his lips and he caught her gaze lingering there.
“Best thing I’ve ever tasted,” Jesse lied, but only because he knew Hazel was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
Hazel’s eyes danced, and when she took a bite of the croissant they were sharing, Jesse called on all his self-control to stop from scooping her aproned body into his arms and kissing the butter from her lips. The girls chattered behind Hazel, and their cheery voices kept him in check. Charlie was asking Grace a million questions about the goodies on the counter, her apron, and if she got to lick batter from any spoons. Jesse might’ve been able to steal a quick kiss from Hazel without them noticing, but he knew his kiss would be anything but quick. He’d been wanting to kiss Hazel again since their lips parted, but after their conversation on the dock, he knew she needed to take things slow. And he wouldn’t chance her shutting down again.
Reaching out, Jesse swept his thumb across Hazel’s bottom lip, brushing away a pastry flake. “Your croissants will sell out in the first hour of the mercantile. I guarantee it.” His voice was gruff, and Hazel’s emerald eyes returned his need. At least, he thought so. He wasn’t going to find out. Not this morning.
Instead, Jesse cleared his throat and called to the girls. “Let’s start loading these boxes, ladies. I’ve got my truck pulled up to the front of the carriage house. The mercantile waits for no one.”
Jesse pulled into the fairgrounds and parked his truck in front of the big, white tent that housed the shops and food vendors. Across from the tent was the bustling arena, full of rodeo contestants who were warming up their horses, getting ready for the first event which was set to start at noon. The mercantile opened at ten o’clock sharp and the vendors were putting the finishing touches on their temporary shops.
Directly in front of the tent, there was a turquoise two-horse trailer that had been converted into a traveling coffee shop. The side had a wide window which popped open to create a counter and passthrough window. The front of the trailer boasted the Perkup Coffee logo, painted in black.
“Hey, Myra,” Jesse said to his cousin as he walked toward the trailer with Hazel, Grace, and Charlie. Each of them carried boxes of baked goods.
Myra waved at them through the passthrough window, looking relieved as she handed a to-go cup to a customer. She had a line of at least fifteen people, waiting patiently and not-so-patiently for a cup of joe. “Hey, guys,” Myra called. “Come on in.”
Jesse led his crew into the back of the trailer, which was open and had a ramp. He remembered a few years ago when Myra bought the old rust bucket. Even he raised his brows at her idea to convert the horse trailer into a coffee shop. Her mom, Judy, had practically called her crazy, but Myra had an idea and she ran with it. Jesse had helped her with some of the renovations and now the two-horse trailer was a fully functioning coffee shop, complete with a small fridge and sink. The front of the unit—where horse heads usually resided—had cabinetry which housed supplies, an industrial coffee maker, and an espresso machine. Everything ran off a generator.
“Myra, this is Hazel and her daughter, Grace.” Jesse set the boxes he was carrying on top of the small fridge.
“Nice to finally meet you guys. I’ve heard all about you. Sorry I didn’t get a chance to meet you at the past few Sunday dinners. Been at rodeos, but I’ll be there next weekend.” Myra took cash from a customer with one hand and filled a paper cup with the other. Her black hair was wrapped into a twist and at least three pencils poked out of it, holding the twist together. The turquoise apron she wore over a tank top and jeans looked like it had endured a few coffee spills. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you bringing the baked goods.” She gave Hazel a quick, genuine smile over her shoulder.
“I’m happy to,” Hazel replied, and Jesse took the rest of the boxes from Hazel and the girls, finding places for them in the trailer.
“I’ll give you cash at the end of the day if that works for you.” Myra grabbed a pencil out of her hair to make a note. Part of her hair spilled onto her back.
“That’s totally fine.” Hazel stepped into the trailer and peeked around. “Do you need some help?”
Myra stopped writing and tilted her head toward Hazel. “I always need help.” The laugh she gave sounded a little pained.
“I can’t make a latte, but I can definitely take money and clean,” Hazel offered.
“I can help too. I don’t have to be at the chutes for twenty minutes,” Jesse added. Then he turned to the girls. “Charlie, can you take Grace into the tent and go to Grandma’s booth?”
Charlie jumped around, then took Grace’s hand and pulled her toward the tent. Joyce and Judy were inside. Jesse could see them from the trailer. As organizers of the mercantile, his mom and aunt were the official greeters and loved every minute of it. They had a big space in the front of the tent which was a family activity area for crafts and games. All the grandkids hung out there throughout the day.
“Where do you need us?” Hazel asked. Myra took a huge, thankful breath.
“Anywhere,” she replied. “Just jump in.”
Hazel stepped up to the window and started taking orders. Jesse went to the sink full of dirty dishes and grabbed a sponge. Myra stayed glued to the front of the trailer, running the espresso machine and coffee maker like a mechanic on an engine. Soon enough, the trailer was tidied, the line of customers was served, and an entire box of Hazel’s pastries was gone.
“You guys are a lifesaver.” Myra fixed her hair back into a neat twist with another pencil.
Jesse glanced at his watch, feeling guilty as the line in front of the trailer started to grow again. “I’ve got to get going. They’re expecting me at the chutes to help with team roping.”
“I can stay,” Hazel said, barely looking up as she scribbled the next customer’s order on the notepad and punched numbers on the calculator.
“Are you sure?” Myra asked. “I don’t want to take up your time.”
“It’s no problem. I was just going to walk around the mercantile with Grace until Jesse was done.” Hazel took the customer’s cash. “But Grace looks pretty content right now.”
Jesse looked at the tent and saw Grace, Charlie, and all of Frankie’s boys lined up with a bunch of other kids, gearing up for a potato sack race. They were all standing in burlap sacks, eager smiles on their faces. “Mom and Judy have a million games for the kids. They’ll keep them busy over there.”
“Then I’ll stay and help Myra.” Hazel gave them both a smile.
Jesse dried his hands and inched toward the back of the trailer. “I’ll come get you when I’m done then? We could watch the rest of the rodeo together?” Jesse paused at Hazel’s side, taking advantage of the small space of the trailer and sliding a hand onto her lower back. Hazel glanced at him and blushed, which only made him want to curl her to his chest.
She nodded and Jesse reluctantly left the trailer, looking forward to coming back this afternoon.