Читать книгу Promises Under the Peach Tree - Joanne Rock - Страница 10

CHAPTER TWO

MACK WATCHED THE ancient blue pickup barrel away, Nina’s words still rattling around in his head.

Mack’s best friend had been hitting on Nina after a graduation party. Nina had called him out on it—making a scene in front of Vince’s girlfriend, Jenny, and the rest of their friends. Mack knew it was because Vince had gotten friendly once too often with Nina. But to the rest of their friends, her reaction had been harsh. Especially when they learned that afterward, Vince had taken off in Mack’s car and crashed into a steel bridge support, dying instantly.

For a couple of hours, people had assumed the body was actually Mack’s, working his bipolar mother into a state that eventually led to a brief hospitalization. It had all been...pure hell. Mack had been pulled in every direction, everyone in his life had needed something from him.

Meanwhile, Nina had dealt with it by speeding up her timetable for leaving Heartache. She packed her bags and took off. He hadn’t blamed her. But how could he have gone with her, considering the fragile state of everyone is his life? His mother. Vince’s mother. Vince’s girlfriend, Jenny. But Nina had never forgiven him for choosing them over her.

A screen door across the street slammed. Boots strode along pavement in an even, purposeful rhythm. Mack yanked his gaze from his mother’s house to see Scott heading toward him, two beers in his hand.

“You okay?” Scott asked as he approached, pressing one of the longnecks into Mack’s palm.

“Positively crappy.” He snapped the top off his beer and indulged in a rare drink. As an occasional bartender at his Nashville club, he cleaned up enough sticky alcohol at closing time to make him stay away from the stuff most days.

Today was not most days.

“That about sums it up.” Scott tapped the bottom of his drink against Mack’s. “I take it Mom didn’t bother answering the door?”

Mack shook his head. “They left the pie on the side porch. I’ll bring it in when I go say hello.”

“Mom doesn’t always answer for Bethany anymore, either.” Scott shrugged. “I’ve been meaning to ask her doctor about it, but she cancelled her last appointment.”

His mom had been quiet lately, not saying much when he phoned her. But he hadn’t realized she’d retreated to this extent. She’d always been happy to see Daisy Spencer.

“I noticed you and Nina exchanged a few words before she left.” Scott took a long drink and waited for information Mack had no intention of sharing. “You want to talk about it?” he asked finally.

“God, no.” Mack had kept his feelings for Nina Spencer locked down for a lot of years. He wasn’t about to break the seal on it now. He was here to help Scott. “I think we can only handle one woman-problem at a time.”

“It might be too late for me, brother.” Scott sat his beer at the base of the red oak tree and leaned a shoulder against the bark.

Tall and rangy, the firstborn Finley was a natural leader. Smart and capable, Scott had always been good at coming up with things for his brothers to do outside the house when their mother was having a bad day. He’d taken over Finley Building Supply Store when their father first ran for mayor so the old man could focus on the town’s problems. Mack often felt guilty that Scott had taken on so many family obligations while Mack lived in Nashville, away from the daily drama.

Nina seemed to believe that Mack had stayed “at home” because he’d never left Tennessee. But in his family’s eyes, he’d ditched them all by moving an hour up the interstate. His absence forced Scott to pull more than his share of the weight where family obligations were concerned. Their sisters were busy with a fledgling business and had even more complicated relationships with their mom than either Scott or Mack—and that was saying something. Scott’s contribution to the family was all the more reason to make sure this event went off without a hitch. Mack owed his dad, but he owed Scott even more. Mack refused to stand by while his brother’s marriage disintegrated.

“It can’t be too late. Why don’t you take off for a week or two? Plan a getaway with just you and Bethany and see if you can work things out?”

“I’m not sure we should leave Ally now when she’s having such a rough go of it. Plus, I can’t leave town with the festival coming up—”

“First of all, screw the festival.” Mack grabbed the nearby tire swing and wrapped his arms around it to steady the old truck tire. “I’ll take care of whatever needs doing there. And as for Ally, don’t you think it would go a long way toward helping her problems if you and Bethany got back on stable ground? You’ve got to work on the marriage first.”

“Like you did with Jenny?”

Mack nearly spewed his drink but ended up just coughing instead. He set the beer on the ground.

“That’s a low blow.”

“That didn’t come out right.” He swiped an impatient hand through the air. “I just mean, you ended that marriage after three years. Something must have told you it was over. How...” Scott scraped the toe of his boot through the patch of grass beneath the tree. “How did you know for sure there was nothing left?”

Nina.

Her name flashed in his brain but he wasn’t about to share that vague, ill-timed thought. As much as the sight of her had stirred his attraction to her today, that attraction had been tempered by resentment.

And he hadn’t been pining for Nina during his marriage. If Jenny hadn’t walked, he’d still be married and he would have turned the car around today to make damn sure Nina stayed out of his mind.

“Jenny made the decision, not me.” He lifted a boot to rest on the inside of the truck tire, the weight of his foot shaking free a few leaves from the oak to rain down around them. “I’m too stubborn to give up on anything once I commit to it. She was the one who changed the rules and decided she wanted kids when she was aware of how I felt about that. After that—for her—it was over. No going back.”

Mack had experienced the ravages of his mother’s disorder and understood the propensity was genetic. Why put a kid through that? As for Jenny...she had her own reasons after a miscarriage as a teen. He never would have asked her to marry him if he’d dreamed she’d change her mind about children.

“You must have fought for her, though.” Scott gave him the oldest brother, I-know-best scowl that he’d perfected as a teenager. “You didn’t just let her go without a fight.”

Mack debated how to answer that one. But Jenny wasn’t like Nina. She wasn’t the kind of woman you could argue with. Both women were strong-willed, but Jenny had become a bulldozer after Vince’s death—nothing got in her way. Not even her husband.

“You just let her go?” Scott prodded.

“This isn’t about me.” Mack took a long swallow of his beer and tried to get his head on straight again. The day was throwing him curveballs left and right. “I messed up with my marriage and won’t let you do the same.”

“I’m not sure Bethany is going to be as agreeable to your plans. But, assuming I still have a snowball’s chance in hell of winning her back, what do you suggest?”

“Take tomorrow off to be with your wife. Give me a list of what needs to happen for the Harvest Fest and I’ll cover for you there and at the store. If you can get Bethany to take off with you for a few days, just leave. I’ll watch out for Ally.”

“I don’t put many hours in the store these days, so you don’t have to cover for me there.” Scott leaned down to pet Luce even though the dog had curled up for a nap in a patch of flattened grass. “Besides, my wife will never go for this.”

Mack wondered where Scott was spending all his time if he wasn’t working at the store. That used to be his full-time gig. When they’d expanded the business, Bethany had quit her teaching job to help him manage the project.

“But you have to try, right? Isn’t that what you just finished telling me?”

“Fine.” Scott pulled out his phone. “I’ll send you my notes from the last town council meeting on the Harvest Fest.”

“Anything that needs to get done right away?” He should visit his mother. Maybe arrange for the house to be painted. He hated being idle. Gave him too damn much time to think.

Scott slid a finger across the screen to scroll through a document on his phone.

“There’s a festival subcommittee meeting tomorrow at three.” He frowned. Paused. “Also I’m supposed to pick up the hay wagons from Spencer Farm.” He glanced at Mack. “I can take care of that one, though.”

Mack remembered the last time he’d been there, the night he’d picked up Nina for the graduation party. How often had he wished he could rewind to that moment? Change any one thing about that day to make the result different.

“No.” Mack wasn’t about to start shirking jobs he’d just volunteered for. “I’m here to handle this stuff. Besides, I don’t think Nina is going to be spending her days in the barn while she’s home. Odds are, I’m not going to run into her again for a while.”

Scott keyed in a few commands and then put his phone back in his pocket. “You forget how small Heartache is.”

Mack hadn’t forgotten. But he was sure Nina wanted to avoid him as much as he planned to avoid her. “All the more reason for you to get out of here for a few days.”

“If Bethany will even go.” Scott shook his head. Stared at the ground. “That’s a big if.”

“Did you screw up that badly?” He found that tough to imagine and fought the urge to ask for details. Those were up to his brother to share. “You two have been together for what...eighteen years? She must not want to throw that away any more than you do.”

“I’ve been doing the same exact things I’ve been doing for eighteen years. Then one day, that wasn’t good enough.” He shrugged. “Believe me, if I had screwed up, I’d be busting my ass to fix it. But getting bored with your life isn’t an excuse to bail on it. Not in my book.”

Scott’s jaw flexed. His mouth settled in a flat line. Even his tone warned Mack not to argue that point, although Mack seriously doubted Bethany was “just bored.” So for now, he simply nodded.

“Right. So maybe a couple of days alone together will help you figure things out.”

“Thanks.” Scott looked back at the house where they’d grown up. “You sure you don’t mind staying with Mom?”

“I’m going to clean up the apartment that Gramp’s field manager used to live in. Maybe do a little restoration work.” It hadn’t been occupied in years, but it was built above an equipment barn that had been well maintained even after the farm folded. “That ought to keep me out of her way and keep friction to a minimum.”

Scott raised his eyebrows, skepticism obvious. “Good luck with that.”

“I’m going to tell her it’ll raise the property value.” It was a cover story that wouldn’t hurt his mother’s feelings. She’d never admit that it was too much to have Mack in the house with her, but he knew perfectly well it would be. He’d only just convinced her to let a maid come in twice a week to do the heavy cleaning—a local woman who also kept tabs on her health. He didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize her routine.

“Mack, I get that this isn’t going to be fun for you. Especially now that Nina’s in the picture, too—”

“We’re family, bro. This is what we do.” It was a corny saying of their dad’s—one that he’d used to cover the whole town when he’d been mayor. It was practically a town motto.

“Well, this is above and beyond, as far as I’m concerned. You have a whole life in Nashville you put on hold for this. So...thanks.” Scott clapped him on the shoulder once before he grabbed his beer and headed toward his own house just two doors down. He only took a few steps before he turned and lifted his bottle in toast. “And who knows? Maybe having Nina around will help put the past to rest.”

Mack shook his head. “No comment.”

Scott drank to that and kept on walking.

Mack took his time finishing his own beer, needing a minute to get his head on straight before he went in the house to talk to his mother. What did Scott know about putting the past to rest?

He couldn’t deny that Nina stirred him up inside as much as ever. In fact, his ex-wife had accused him of never getting over Nina. Jenny had been wrong about that, though. He’d been furious with Nina Spencer. She hadn’t been able to shake the dust of Tennessee off her shoes fast enough at a time when he’d needed her most.

She’d called him the night after the accident, upset and crying, saying she was leaving that night for New York. Right then. And she begged him to come with her. No warning of her change of plans, she just wanted to go.

But he couldn’t leave his family when they were falling apart, and she’d never forgiven him for it. Then again, things had only gotten worse after she left, and he’d blamed her for not being there with him. For impulsively taking off. Within the month, they were done speaking for good.

So just because Mack’s temperature spiked into the triple digits whenever he saw her didn’t mean he’d ever forget the way she’d bailed on him.

* * *

WHEN NINA HAD left Manhattan, she’d taken only her espresso machine and her cat on a red-eye flight.

Now, two days later, the rest of her worldly possessions were being unloaded off the back of a sketchy-looking moving truck and into one of her grandmother’s barns. She hadn’t wanted her things being manhandled by repo men in New York.

“Careful with that!” Nina blurted to one of the movers as he struggled with an antique pie rack that had been a gift from a client. Her apartment furnishings would all remain in the city just in case she could figure out a way to get her life and her career on track again. She was in a holding pattern for now between the business and her grandmother’s health. She was mostly in Tennessee, but she’d left one foot in New York in case things were a total bust here. After all, if her grandmother truly needed to go into assisted living, there wouldn’t be anything tying her to Heartache.

But for now, Nina would stay in Tennessee until the scandal surrounding her business died and she’d liquidated some assets, then she’d figure out where to go next. Her partner had been in charge of the books for their shared bakery venture and she’d drained their account before eloping with a high-profile client on the eve of his wedding.

Big, fat mess.

“I’ve got it,” one of the movers assured her, sweat dripping off his forehead as he struggled to keep the pie rack off the concrete floor. “We can handle this.”

Telling herself not to micromanage, Nina nodded and took the opportunity to grab a cup of coffee from inside the house. She could smell bacon frying before she reached the screen door.

“Gram!” What was she going to do with her? Even with a cane, her grandmother stood at the stove with a fork in one hand.

Yanking open the screen, Nina hurried to take her place.

“You’re just in time for breakfast.” Gram tried shooing her away, her freshly colored blond locks tucked behind one ear. “I can get it, for crying out loud. How do you suppose I ate before you got here?”

“Humor me.” Nina guided her to a padded metal chair from a mismatched bunch of flea-market finds clustered around a butcher block table. “Let me at least serve, okay?”

“Only because I love you and want to make you happy.” Her grandmother kissed her cheek and took a seat, her swollen knuckles clutching the table as she lowered herself slowly. “Just don’t get in the habit of waiting on me, dear.”

“Okay.” Nina made quick work of plating the eggs and bacon, her stomach growling the whole time. “But if you’re doing well, why does Dad say you should be considering assisted living?”

She’d been surprised by his tersely worded email urging Nina to convince his mother to move into a new place where she would have someone checking on her.

“Because he doesn’t want to be bothered by phone calls from his mother.” Gram winked at her over the rim of her coffee cup, but Nina didn’t think she was joking.

She peered over the white ruffled café curtains on one window to check on the movers’ progress in the barn and then took a seat at the table.

“I know he’s selfish, Gram.” He’d never inconvenienced himself for them, and Nina doubted he was any different with his second wife or her children—half siblings Nina had met only because she insisted on visiting twice a year to at least make an effort. “But he’s never brought up something like assisted living before. Did the doctors voice new concerns to him?”

“I have no idea what any of my doctors would have told him.” Gram rose to refresh her coffee even though she’d hardly taken three sips.

“That sounds...carefully worded.” Nina’s eye strayed to the oversize vintage stove that Gram had used since her wedding, a Wedgewood appliance where Nina had learned how to bake.

This kitchen had been a refuge for a child continually shuttled between feuding parents. When she was in Heartache, she wasn’t in the crossfire. On the downside, being left here time after time as a child and then permanently when she was ten years old only underscored that she wasn’t wanted. “I may have tuned out some of what your father said.” Gram shuffled back to the table, slower this time. Because of the full coffee cup, or did that knee still bother her more than she wanted to admit?

Nina wanted to help, but also didn’t want to hover. She watched every cautious step and felt tense inside.

“Would you mind if I followed up with your doctors?” Nina sipped her orange juice and tried to focus on the moment and what needed to be done—and not on Mack Finley.

“You want to talk to my doctors. So they can tell you what? That I’m eighty-four and my bones are brittle?” Gram chuckled and pointed a pink fingernail at her. “We both know that already. I’m being careful. I don’t even wear cute shoes anymore.” She stuck out her mint-green-colored tennis sneaker as a reminder. “But if you really want to talk to them, sugar plum, of course you can.”

“Sugar plum?”

Gram smiled and patted her cheek. “I’ve missed you, pretty girl. You never visit for more than a weekend anymore, and I have a lot of endearments to cram into these days together.”

Guilt pinched, but this time, it mingled with nostalgia.

“I’ve missed you, too.” She sipped her coffee, her grandmother’s brew so strong she wondered if she’d have to hook up her espresso machine after all. “I don’t think I realized how much.”

“I knew the bacon would win you over.”

“Even the coffee is better here.” Everything tasted better at home. Maybe it was because she’d learned all that she knew about cooking and baking from the woman seated next to her. “I’m actually dying to cook in this kitchen again. I forgot how much I loved the stove. And I’ve been so focused on baking the last few years that I haven’t spent much time on other kinds of dishes.”

“You cook all you want. I’d rather have you in the kitchen than playing sleuth at my doctor’s office.” Gram frowned and tapped her newly manicured nails against her coffee cup for a moment before she met Nina’s gaze. “I don’t want to give up my independence or this house, hon. So, please, make sure your father doesn’t try and pull a fast one on me to get me out of here, okay?”

Worry made Nina’s stomach clench. Her grandmother had always seemed invincible. She’d carved out a living for herself in a big old empty farmhouse after her husband died when he’d been fifty-five. Gram had been on her own ever since, living frugally and selling off pieces of land and equipment to supplement odd jobs like canning and making jellies for a local farm store. Not until recently had she ever spent a nickel on herself, and that was only because Nina had given her a year’s worth of salon services for Christmas last year. Gram was crafty and cagey. A survivor. And it sent a sharp pain through Nina to hear a note of fear in this strong woman’s voice.

“Of course.” As soon as she made the promise, though, she wondered how she would keep it if she ended up moving home to New York. “I mean, I’ll talk to Dad and clear things with your doctors since obviously, we all want you to be safe, too. But you look great to me.”

Gram quirked an eyebrow, clearly hearing the backpedaling.

A sharp rap on the kitchen door startled her and saved her from digging herself any deeper into a hole.

“It’s Ethan, Mrs. Spencer,” a young man’s voice called through the closed door.

“Ethan?” Nina looked to her grandmother to enlighten her as she stood.

“A neighbor boy,” she explained to Nina just before she opened the door. “Well, hello there, young man.”

“Morning, Mrs. Spencer. I finished mowing the lawn and I wanted to see if you’d like me to pick some peaches or nectarines for you.” A shaggy-headed, dark-haired teenager held an empty bushel basket under one arm, his rumpled T-shirt and jeans covered with bits of hay suggesting he’d already been working for a while.

“The more the merrier, Ethan.” Gram waved at the boy but didn’t stand...a sure sign her knee was hurting. “I’ve got some reinforcements this week to help me with my last batch of jam now that the peach season is almost over. Nina, this is Ethan Brady. He’s the grandson of the gentleman who bought the dairy farm where the Hendersons used to live.”

“Nina Spencer.” Nina shook the teen’s hand. “I’m visiting my grandmother for a couple of weeks. Did you need help with the picking?” She peered out the door behind the boy toward the orchards in the distance, but couldn’t tell if the trees were loaded with fruit or not.

“No, thank you.” He looked like he might be hiding a smile. “I can handle it. I wouldn’t want to take Mrs. Spencer’s company away.”

“I don’t mind.” She hadn’t questioned how her grandmother was doing financially, but maybe she would welcome the extra jam and jelly sales while Nina was home to help her. For that matter, maybe she shouldn’t be helping her grandmother give away those peach pies when she should be charging for them. “I’ll just grab some gloves in the barn—”

“No, really,” Ethan protested, stepping off the small porch and backing away. “My gramp gave me strict instructions to take care of the picking myself because he owes Mrs. Spencer a favor,” he called through the screen. “And he said to tell you that the town of Heartache loves cupcakes.” The teen shrugged his shoulders awkwardly. “No clue what the means.”

Spinning on his heel, he darted through the tall grasses of an open meadow with his bushel basket and headed toward the orchards.

Behind her, Gram laughed and said something about how Nina could charge more for one cupcake than she could for a whole case of preserves. But seeing Ethan jogging across sun-dappled fields made her think of a long-ago summer when another boy had knocked on the door to pick peaches and asked Nina to join him....

“Excuse me,” a deep voice called to her from the yard and she noticed one of the movers flagging her down. “You’ve got some company.”

He jerked his head in the direction of the moving truck, but she couldn’t see who had pulled up since the eighteen-wheeler took up her whole view.

“Gram, I’d better find out who it is.” She pushed open the screen, her gray tabby cat darting between her feet to join her.

Her instincts hummed as she neared the truck. The brightness made her squint, but she could still see an Eldorado convertible parked behind the movers’ vehicle.

“Need a hand?” Mack stepped around the bumper of the beat-up delivery truck, his gaze trained on the hodgepodge of furniture and boxes stacked precariously inside. “I hadn’t realized you’d have so much going on today or I would have waited to pick up the hay wagons for the Harvest Fest.”

His well-washed gray T-shirt had a green clover with Finleys’ written in script on the front. No matter what else had happened between them, she had to admit he wore a T-shirt incredibly well. For the second day in a row, she kept her eyes north of his jeans. Down that path lay madness.

Mack was very...fit. In school, he’d organized pickup games of basketball or impromptu lacrosse tournaments in the fields behind his house. It seemed he hadn’t lost that love of sports. His body was as toned as an athlete’s.

“It’s okay. The wagons are in the barn by the orchard.” She’d rather have this errand taken care of today than risk seeing him again another day. She couldn’t guarantee how long her eyes would behave. “I can get the key from the house.”

Nodding, he stepped back as the delivery guys juggled an industrial-size mixer. When Taz, Nina’s cat, started to dart across their path, Mack scooped the tabby up with one hand.

“Oh!” Nina reached for the animal, but Taz was already batting at the wristband of Mack’s watch, oblivious to her narrow escape. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Should I bring him up to the house?” He stared down at Taz, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I can ask your grandmother for the key and take care of the wagons myself.”

“Taz is a her, not a him.” Nina plucked the animal from Mack’s arm and the little feline mewed pitifully. “And it’s probably just as well I don’t watch my most prized possessions being stored next to rusty cultivators and plows. I might as well go with you.”

She was a grown-up. She could handle spending a couple of weeks in the same town as Mack. Besides, she wasn’t proud of her testy words the day before. She shouldn’t have accused him of coming to Heartache to rub her nose in her failures.

Worse, her harsh words about Jenny had been out of line. And she didn’t want Mack to think he affected her so much that the mention of his ex-wife would rile her up.

“Fair enough.” He stepped aside, letting her lead the way to a farmhouse even older than the one where he’d been raised.

Sunflowers and phlox stood next to deep purple asters in the overgrown flowerbeds lining the wide, grassy path to the two-story white clapboard structure. The scent of the nearby orchards and freshly mown grass rode the breeze. It was peaceful here, with a quiet so deep she almost had trouble sleeping. She kind of missed the constant din of city traffic and the comfort of busy, anonymous humanity outside her windows.

“It’s weird being back here, isn’t it?” She picked a long stem of grass poking through a bed of bushy yellow flowers she couldn’t identify.

Taz made a swipe for the grass, but Nina tucked the little cat tighter against her chest to be sure she wouldn’t get into any more trouble.

“I slept in the field manager’s quarters last night. So yeah, it’s definitely a strange homecoming.”

Their strides matched one another’s.

“Did you have a falling out with your mom?” Nina tried to keep the question light. She wasn’t sure how much Mrs. Finley had shared with Mack about their final blowout where his mother had accused Nina of ruining Mack’s life. She’d even suggested that he’d change his mind about having kids if she left. It wasn’t that he didn’t want children, she said, he just didn’t want them with Nina.

She’d been blown away about that one.

Knowing about Mrs. Finley’s struggles with bipolar disorder hadn’t eased the sting of her words, since her reasons for why Nina and Mack would never work had been accurate. Nina was a wanderer by nature who threw herself into the moment, for example, while Mack was a grounded guy with big ambition and concrete career goals. Bipolar or not, Mrs. Finley was a sharp woman with Mack’s best interests at heart.

“No. But a buffer between me and Mom is usually a good idea. I didn’t want her to be stressed about having company.” He paused at the foot of the stairs to the wide, wraparound porch while Nina jogged up toward the back door. “She asked me to thank you for the pie, by the way.”

Nina seriously doubted that. She opened the door and nudged Taz inside where her pet made a beeline for her water dish. The kitchen was empty again and the table had been cleared. Nina snagged a small red key from a rack of hooks just above the light switch and then closed the door again.

“That was really thoughtful of you to give your mother some space.” She tucked the key to the barn in her pocket as she rejoined him, trying her best to get through this difficult meeting as quickly as possible. “Especially since the field manager’s quarters are awfully cramped, at least they were the last time I saw them—”

Her cheeks flamed hot. Red-sizzle hot. Because the last time she’d been inside that little apartment had been with Mack, and things had gone too far, too fast.

“I remember.” Mack didn’t bother to hide the smile in his voice, damn him.

Her gaze shot his way. A wicked grin stole over his face, an expression she hadn’t seen in a long time. Funny how that warmed her in a different way.

“So. That was awkward.” She resisted the urge to fan her face at the memory of Mack kissing her shoulder and nudging off the strap of her tank top. Undressing her in the daylight had been a novel experience for both of them.

“Not the way I recall it.” His expression grew more serious, making her heart beat faster.

Her eyes stole over him. All of him.

Damn, but he looked better than ever in a pair of jeans.

“What I meant was—”

“I know what you meant.” Mack turned to face her on the path to the barn. “And you’re right. The apartment is cramped.”

Nina folded her arms across a white eyelet tank top. The tank and cutoffs had been comfortable this morning, but suddenly she felt severely underdressed. Then again, she could be wearing riot gear and still feel twitchy and breathless around Mack.

“I just don’t want you to get the impression that I’m flirting with you. Because that comment just leaped out without me even thinking it through.” She wanted to be very clear on that point. She had no intention of getting in the way of Mack’s future.

“Yes, I remember that impulsive streak.” One dark eyebrow arched as he gave her an assessing look. “Remember when you freed the Death Row Chickens on the Johnson farm that first summer you came here?”

“I’m still not sorry about that.” Being a city girl, she’d assumed the chickens were behind bars as a form of punishment, their death imminent. She’d raised a neighborhood campaign to save them, not knowing they were on the farm to give eggs. “Mr. Johnson could have explained about the eggs instead of laughing at me.”

“In all fairness, I don’t think he realized who he was dealing with.” Mack’s eyes met hers. Held.

Her mouth went so dry she had to lick her lips. “Too bad those chickens had no idea what to do with their freedom.”

She forced herself to keep walking. To keep moving. Standing still with Mack this close would be dangerous.

“Mrs. Johnson wasn’t happy to find them roosting in her flower beds after the big jailbreak.” Mack lifted a low-hanging branch on a pine tree, clearing the way for her to walk without ducking.

“You were pretty entertained by the whole thing, though.” Mack had insisted on bringing her back to the Johnson house the next morning where—from the safety of the bushes—she could witness the results of her elaborate plan to set the birds free.

Mack had showed her where to stand so they wouldn’t get caught, keeping an arm around her shoulders to prevent her from running after the chickens and smuggling them off the property.

“Somebody had to keep you safe from trouble.”

“You were always looking out for people.” She’d benefitted from that quality in him for a long time.

Until the day when he’d had others to take care of besides her. His mother. His best friend’s grieving girlfriend. Now, it was his brother. A better woman would have admired him all the more for that. But to Nina, it felt like others had always come first. Maybe she’d been too needy because of the way she’d been brought up. But when she’d fallen for Mack, she’d been all in. He was everything to her. So when she’d learned her spot on his priority list, she’d been deeply hurt.

Mack said nothing while she retrieved the key to the barn and popped the padlock. When she opened the clasp and slid the heavy door aside on the track, she noticed Mack staring back down the hill toward the moving van. The delivery guys dragged a dining room set into the barn.

“You’re moving a lot of things home for someone who is only going to be in town for a few weeks.” He leaned against a pole support in front of the barn. “Are you sure everything is okay?”

Grief and frustration over her career battled with embarrassment at her failure. But the details of the scandal were a Google search away. It’s not as if the locals wouldn’t find out about it. Maybe it would be better if he heard her side first. She couldn’t help feeling defensive about how the whole thing shook down.

“My business partner drained the funds from our bakery’s business account and then eloped with one of our clients the night before a wedding we’d been hired to cater.”

How could she have failed—the business, her clients, herself—so miserably? She’d developed her business because she’d loved seeing other people’s happily-ever-afters take shape. But she’d had to cancel over a dozen orders for other weddings this fall, leaving brides scrambling to find other confections for their special day.

“Have you talked to your partner since she left? Do you know where she is now?” Mack squinted in the bright sun, the day growing hotter by the minute.

“No. She left me a note with her apology and some garbage about true love not always being ‘convenient.’” Nina had discovered the note perched in front of the cupcake tower that would have paid the next month’s rent on their costly storefront on the Upper West Side. But with no wedding and a jilted bride in tears, Nina couldn’t exactly collect on the wedding cake. “Olivia—my partner—was always adventurous, and she loved the romance of our business. Little did I know, she would find romance in our client list with a well-known hotel magnate.”

Mack gave a low whistle and shook his head. “Wow. She sounds...immature.”

“Yes. But she’s also creative and energetic. Her father fronted us the money for the shop to begin with, and her wealthy friends helped to spread the word about us while we grew our reputation. I never could have gone into business without her. I really thought we were going to turn a corner this fall and start operating in the black, but...” Nina’s heart still hurt to think about all the people she’d let down by closing up shop. How could she ever go back now? “Anyway, Gram has been battling some health problems, so this was a good time to come home and check on her. I’ll go to New York and settle things there as soon as I regroup and figure out what to do next.”

“Because you still want to bake.” Mack seemed to weigh this. “And get back to the city?”

Maybe.

“That’s what I’ve always wanted,” she dodged, not quite ready to tackle the question for herself, let alone him. “Sooner or later, I’ll need an income source again. If not through the cupcake bakery, then through some other business.”

She could always apply to a restaurant as a dessert chef. The idea didn’t hold much appeal after all the creative independence she’d had at Cupcake Romance.

“Just making sure.” He nodded. Then, pivoting toward her, he gestured to a couple of old hay bales. “Do you have a minute? I’ve got a proposition that might help us both.”

The hay bales looked far too comfortable for her to share one with Mack. A bed of nails, perhaps.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” She remained standing.

She could pretend he didn’t affect her all she wanted, but she wasn’t going to test her restraint that way. Mack had called it when he’d said she had an impulsive streak. And her tendency to leap before she looked usually led her into trouble. She’d shot her mouth off at Vince and he’d died.

“Okay. So just listen.” Straightening, he stalked closer.

She held her breath.

“You need to generate some income while figuring out what to do with your business.” He studied her with serious eyes. “And I have a festival to oversee from the ground up so I can free my brother to work on his marriage. Why don’t we help each other?”

“I don’t understand. How?”

“Traditionally, the fee for renting a vendor booth at the festival is waived for subcommittee chairs. So take over the food management subcommittee for me. That way, you’ll get a booth for free to sell all the cupcakes you like.”

He was offering her a spot on the festival planning committee? It wouldn’t be so ludicrous except that Mack was at the helm.

“You can’t be serious. We’ve avoided each other for eight years and suddenly we should work together?” She shook her head. “Too much water under the bridge.”

Mack shrugged. “If it’s water under the bridge, why not do each other a favor? I don’t mind admitting to you that I’m in over my head with the festival planning, but I’m going to fake it until the bitter end so that Scott doesn’t have to deal with it this year.” The stubborn set to his chin told her he was doing this only for the sake of his family.

Which shouldn’t surprise her in the least. But maybe a small part of her feminine pride stung that he wasn’t angling to spend time with her. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Then again, she was broke. And it didn’t seem as if her grandmother was any better off.

“I could sell baked goods, not just cupcakes?” she clarified, thinking she could sell Gram’s jellies and pies, too. They could both earn some extra cash, assuming she could find somebody to run a booth for them while she oversaw all the other food vendors.

It sounded like a big job. Then again, what else was she going to do while she was home?

“Absolutely.”

Nina could already see why Mack was a success in business. He didn’t let a little thing like old heartbreak stand in his way of doing a job. Maybe Nina ought to be paying more attention to his methods.

“I’ll consider it,” she agreed, more than ready to return to the house and leave Mack Finley to his own devices. She hadn’t been prepared for this conversation.

“It could help us move on,” he reminded her. “Make peace.”

Nina knew he’d already moved on long ago—when he’d married Jenny. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t tamp down the words that bubbled up her throat.

“I’ve made my peace with the past.” She shot him an even look. “Once I learned not to trust a man’s promises, I’ve been a whole lot better off.”