Page 42 of Forbidden to Fall

With Morgan’s go-get-’em energy, the bakery counter felt crowded. Or maybe I was just tired. Either way, my calm morning was officially over even before customers started coming in.

When 10 o’clock rolled around, I hung up my apron with a sigh of relief and headed to the maple farm. What I wanted was a nap, but I needed to tweak my boring maple cookie recipe. Time was running out if we wanted to capitalize on the season.

When I pulled up at the maple farm with the maple I hadn’t needed for the mayor’s party, May was moving a couple of boxes from the trailer to the porch. She walked with a small limp, so I hurried out of my car to help.

“Oh, I’m fine, darlin’,” she said, setting down her box on top of another. “Just gettin’ these ready for pickup. It’s for one of our customers in Burlington.”

“Are there more boxes?” I asked.

“Nope. That’s it.” She looked me over and smiled. “Seein’ you here at the farm brightens my day.”

“Likewise.”

She brushed off her hands. “Are you headed to the shack? I think James is there.”

My heart did a flip. I wasn’t sure what to expect after the encounter last night, but I was determined to keep things professional. Which was why I’d decided against my middle-of-the-night idea to stuff my hair full of bobby pins again and see what happened. “Yeah, I’ve got some baking to do.”

“I’d love to see you workin’ your magic sometime.”

“There’s very little magic, I assure you. Just a whole lot of flour and dirty dishes.”

“Like I said, magic.” She winked. “You know you can always join us for dinner afterward.”

I smiled. “I know. I’ll probably head home to sleep, though. I had an early morning at the bakery.” That and the fact that another dinner with the Carvers was something I doubted Ryan would consider a professional necessity. Not that he knew of the first one.

Ugh.

I pushed aside the discomfort in my stomach and told May I’d see her later.

She headed inside, favoring one leg slightly.

I let out a sigh and made my way to the sugar shack. My chest tightened at the sight of James, crouched in front of the wood stacks with a piece of furniture in front of him. He had a screwdriver in hand, the sleeves of his long-sleeved shirt pushed to his elbows.

Think professional. Think professional.

He glanced up as I drew nearer. The same uncertainty I felt was reflected in his dark eyes.

“Whatcha doin’?” I asked.

He straightened to a stand. “I figured we’ll need a way to display the things you’re making. We had a few old stands from years ago, so I thought I’d see if they’d work.” He frowned as he looked over the piece, one large hand gripping the top corner. “Unfortunately, I don’t think these can be salvaged.”

I tended to agree. It looked like they’d been left outside to weather a decade of the elements.

“Hm,” I said. “Maybe we could ask Bennett to make us something? I need to go talk to Rosie Harper about getting a booth at the Harvest Festival. I could stop by Dust & Timber tomorrow after work.”

“Bennett Walker?” he asked.

“Yeah. He does higher-end stuff now, but I bet he’d make something nice and simple for us if we ask nicely.” Ryan and James used to hang out with the Walker boys back in the old days. “Anyway, I should get started on my boring cookies.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I really regret saying that.”

“Don’t. You hit the nail on the head.” I glanced over my shoulder when he followed me to the door.

“Gotta wash my hands,” he explained as he opened it for me.

“Thanks.”

“Lemme take that for you.” He lifted the bag from my shoulder.