Chapter 5

ChapterFive

‘We come bearing gifts!’

Jeanie was wiping down the front counter for the twelfth time when the bell rang over the café door. Annie and Hazel pushed through it, their arms full of bakery boxes.

‘Oh, my gosh, what is all this?’ Jeanie asked as they piled them up in front of her. She had to peer over the top of the tower to see them.

‘For your grand reopening tomorrow!’ Annie organized the boxes in a steadier stack. ‘The order isn’t usually this big, but I figure you’ll have a pretty big turnout for the first weekend back. People are very excited.’

Jeanie’s stomach swooped with nerves. ‘They are?’

‘Definitely. Didn’t you see them last night? They need their caffeine fix.’

Hazel opened a box and pulled out a scone. ‘Are you ready?’

I ... uh ... I guess.’ Jeanie grabbed a scone, too, and nibbled at the corner. ‘Norman’s been a big help. Thankfully, he knows all the ins and outs of the café.’

Annie shut the box. ‘Save some for the paying customers!’

‘Honestly, I’m surprised Norman is still here,’ Hazel said, propping an elbow on the counter.

‘Really, why?’

Hazel shrugged, her brown curls bouncing on her shoulders. ‘I always thought there was something going on between him and your aunt.’

Annie laughed. ‘Ignore Hazel. She likes to pair off everyone in the town.’

‘Laugh all you want. I saw the way Norman looked at Dot. Something was going on there.’

‘Well, I saw the way you were eyeing Noah at the town meeting last night. What’s going on there?’

‘Nothing,’ Hazel mumbled, around her mouthful of scone. Her face had turned red up to her hair. Jeanie bit down on a smile. She’d thought the fisherman who supported her ghost theory was cute, too, but she didn’t know these women well enough to join in on their teasing. She could picture it, though. She could imagine herself being friends with them, fitting in here. It was her new favorite fantasy when she couldn’t sleep at night.

‘So, why have we never seen you around town?’ Annie asked, changing the subject. ‘Dot used to talk about you and your brother all the time.’

‘Oh, yeah...’ Guilt, sharp and sudden, settled in her gut. She’d neglected a lot of things when she’d been so busy at work. Her Aunt Dot was one of them. ‘We came to visit a few times as kids. I used to love it here, actually. Spending time in her café. But then, I don’t know ... my brother moved to California and life got busy, I guess.’

Annie studied her like she was trying to piece things together, trying to figure her out. Jeanie wondered what she saw. Was she pulling it off? Cool, calm, café owner? Or could Annie tell she was a frazzled ball of nerves inside, totally afraid of failing the first time she’d done anything for herself? Running this café would be the first time she wasn’t working her butt off to make things happen for another person. This was all for her. Which frankly made it that much more terrifying.

‘What do you think of Logan?’ Hazel blurted out, pulling Annie and Jeanie’s gaze to her.

‘Just dive right in, Haze,’ Annie hissed, nudging her friend with her elbow.

‘I think he’s very ... uh ... nice.’ Jeanie fidgeted under their intense inspection. ‘It’s nice of him to help me figure out the noise problem.’

‘How is he helping with that exactly?’ Annie asked, her face a mask of innocence.

‘He ... uh ... we ... decided to do a stakeout.’

‘A stakeout?’ Hazel’s eyes widened behind her glasses.

‘Yeah, like on police dramas. We’ll stay up and try to catch whoever, or whatever, is making the noise.’

‘And Logan agreed to this?’ Annie asked.

‘Yes, it was his idea. We’re doing it Monday night.’ In fact, Jeanie had waited until most of the meeting hall had emptied out before finding Logan waiting for her by the door. She’d intended to tell him he was off the hook, but instead, he’d told her his plan to come by on Monday to see if he could hear the noises for himself. Although if she was being honest, he’d never called it a ‘stakeout’. That had been all her.

She warmed at the memory of his amused smile when she’d said it. She liked making the quiet farmer smile.

Hazel let out a small moan. ‘Oh, no. It’s worse than we thought.’

‘What is?’ Jeanie broke off another piece of scone and popped it into her mouth afraid of saying the wrong thing.

‘Here’s the thing, Jeanie,’ Annie said, fiddling with the bakery boxes again. ‘Logan tends to fall pretty hard and his last relationship—’

‘No, no, no . . . it’s nothing like that!’ Jeanie interrupted, holding up her hands to stop Annie’s explanation and in the process flinging a piece of scone across the café. ‘He’s just helping because of the mayor and because I sort of almost decapitated him and I just need to get some sleep. That’s it. That’s ... um ... that’s all.’

Annie’s eyebrows rose higher as Jeanie spoke. ‘Hmm. Look, I’ve known Logan our whole lives so I’m immune to his particular charms, but I’m not blind, Jeanie. I know what he looks like. He’s objectively hot, but he also has a good heart, and I just don’t want him to get hurt again.’

Jeanie did not want to know how Logan got hurt before, not from Annie anyway. That was his story to tell.

‘Really. It’s just about getting a good night’s sleep. I didn’t come to town to seduce the local farmers.’

Hazel giggled at that and stooped down to pick up the piece of dropped scone. ‘We’re sorry to come and attack you like this,’ she said. ‘The town sort of has a soft spot for Logan. His dad left before he was born, and his mom died when we were kids. The whole town sort of adopted him after that.’

Oh, God, she did not need to think about an adorable little Logan losing his mother.

‘I won’t hurt him,’ she croaked. She shook her head. What was she even saying? ‘I mean, I won’t do anything with him, to him.’ Oh, this was coming out all wrong. ‘I mean, I’m not here to date anyone at all. I just want a fresh start. That’s it.’

Annie nodded. Satisfied. ‘Great! Well, in that case, welcome to the neighborhood.’

‘Thanks.’

Annie hustled out of the café, but Hazel hung back. ‘He’s a really good guy,’ she said.

‘I’m sure he is.’

‘I don’t think it would be the worst thing if you wanted to do something to him.’ Hazel winked.

‘I...’ Jeanie’s cheeks heated.

‘Just don’t run off back to the city and abandon him!’ Hazel said cheerily as she turned to go. ‘See you tomorrow, bright and early, for my pumpkin-spiced latte!’

‘Bye,’ Jeanie said faintly, but her head was spinning from that little visit. Did Logan’s friends want her to date him or to stay far away from him?

It didn’t matter, anyway. She was being honest with them. She didn’t come here to seduce the local farmers or to date them.

She was just here to serve coffee and ideally not die of a stress-induced heart attack at the ripe old age of twenty-eight.

* * *

Several hours later, the bakery case was lined with scones, muffins, and pumpkin-shaped sugar cookies for the morning. Every surface was gleaming, and Logan’s little pumpkins were on every table and counter, providing just the right amount of fall-y-ness. The café was ready, but Jeanie still felt a current of nerves running beneath her skin.

She slumped down on a stool behind the counter and surveyed her new domain. It was certainly different from her desk outside Marvin’s office. No smudged computer screen to stare at, no incessantly ringing phone to answer, no dirty coffee mugs that she was always behind on bringing back to the break room.

Her feet didn’t ache from running around in heels all day, but her back hurt from cleaning and organizing and preparing for tomorrow. Her mind wasn’t swimming with Marvin’s appointments, his wife’s birthday, his mistress’s new address, and his lunch order. But her stomach was rolling with anticipation for tomorrow’s grand opening. What if it all went wrong?

What was she even doing here? She looked out the big front window at her view of Main Street. The street itself was quaint and tidy, with trees lining the road. The leaves were just starting to change, mixing yellow and reds in with the green. Gold and purple mums sat outside most doors along the way.

Note to self: Get mums.

The café was flanked by the Bluebell Bookstore and Sullivan’s Pub. Annie’s bakery sat on the other side of the bookstore. Add in a few other shops and restaurants, the pet store, and the post office, and that was Main Street.

It was, frankly, adorable. Autumnal, small-town New England at its best. Shouldn’t she feel different here? Away from the frenetic energy of Boston, the traffic, and the crowds? Shouldn’t she be different here?

She was damn well going to try.

She rubbed a hand down her face. Maybe she would also try to tuck in early and actually get some sleep before tomorrow. The café opened at seven sharp, she’d been told repeatedly by Norman. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t like her, but she decided to chalk his curt attitude up to general old-man curmudgeonly-ness. Her aunt had trusted him for years, so Jeanie did, too.

But grumpy or not, she was glad Norman had stuck around. He knew all the ins and outs of the café and their two baristas had stayed on as well. Jeanie didn’t know what she was worried about. This place could easily run itself without her. She probably hadn’t even needed to close it for a week, but she’d been so overwhelmed when she arrived. The idea of people actually coming in and wanting their usual morning coffee had nearly sent her running back to Boston to look for her next assistant job.

She thought of the realtor she’d called from the bare floor of her new apartment above the café. Barbara Sanders. She’d insisted Jeanie call her Barb during their brief conversation. Barb’s picture stared up at her from the business card Jeanie had found slipped beneath the front door. She was polished and coiffed, poised, with a wide perfect smile. Jeanie found herself wanting to put her faith in this Barb, wanting to let Barb solve her problems.

She’d nearly agreed to let her put the café up for sale, but then the image of Marvin’s body slumped over his desk, his face resting on a stack of reports, popped into her head and she hastily told Barb she’d changed her mind; though she’d agreed to let Barb send over the comps for what other businesses in the area had sold for recently and then hung up the phone and ate an enormous salad for good measure.

But now as she sat here looking at the tidy little café, her tidy little café, that she had zero business running, Jeanie thought she may have made a mistake.

The space was small, just big enough for a few round tables and chairs and Jeanie tried to imagine it filled with customers. Her heart squeezed with excitement and nerves.

The bay window in the front was the perfect nook for two cozy chairs, worn down with age and use. Jeanie’s apartment above the shop shared the same original hardwood floors, something Barb Sanders had raved about. In the middle of the room stood the L-shaped counter with one side for the register and one side for a few more bar stools. The glass case next to the register was filled with Annie’s treats. The walls were painted a creamy white and filled with paintings by local artists. Little torn bits of paper stuck on the wall beside them told the title and the price.

Jeanie stared at a particularly large painting across the room from her of a big purple cow. Did the artist get nervous about hanging it? Did she sit at home with a sick feeling in her belly that she wasn’t actually a very good painter at all? Did she worry about what people would think about her colorful farm animals or did she just go for it?

The knock at the back door disrupted her existential crisis and her staring contest with the cow. She hopped down from her stool and went to the back, pulling off her apron as she went. She’d put it on this morning with the hopes that it would make her feel more official. No luck there.

Logan was the last person she expected to see at her door, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel a flutter of excitement at finding him there.

‘Hi,’ she said, opening the door wider.

‘Here,’ he said, not bothering with a greeting. He held out his hand and, in his palm, rested a small box.

‘Um ... what...’

‘Sorry. They’re earplugs. I thought they might help ... uh...’ Logan ran a hand down his beard, his cheeks above it pinkening, ‘... to help you sleep tonight. Before your big day.’

You are not here for the local farmers, Jeanie reminded herself, but the sweetness of the gift, paired with the slightly awkward delivery, was making it very hard to remember why she wasn’t here for the farmers. Specifically, the large, handsome one currently darkening her doorstep.

‘Thank you! That’s very nice of you.’ She took the little box from his hand, dutifully ignoring how big it was and how rough and warm his palm was against her fingers.

‘I brought a new lock, too. Noticed the one on the back door doesn’t work right.’

‘You ... brought a new lock? For me? For uh ... for my door?’ Had it just been a very long time since Jeanie had dated anyone, or was this the most romantic gesture she’d ever experienced?

‘Yeah, well, I figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep if your lock was bad.’ He fidgeted with the chain lock he’d pulled out of his back pocket. ‘Not that there’s really anything to worry about around here. I just figured...’ His voice faded away as his gaze snagged on Jeanie’s smile. His cheeks darkened.

‘That’s perfect. Thank you, really. That’s so kind of you. It would have made me nervous to not be able to hear, but with my new lock, I’m sure I’ll sleep peacefully. Tomorrow’s a big day and I need to be ready.’

He blinked. ‘Right.’

Right. She was rambling. ‘I’ll take that, I guess. I’m sure I can figure out how to attach it to the door.’

‘No need.’ Logan was already grabbing the toolbox at his feet. ‘I’ll have it on in a few minutes.’

‘Oh. Okay. Great.’ Jeanie stepped back and let him in, and then she definitely didn’t stand there and admire his forearms flexing as he screwed the lock into her door. She certainly didn’t breathe deeper to get more of his fall-leaves-and-woodsmoke scent into her lungs. She wouldn’t do that because Logan was just a friendly neighbor, and she was just here for a fresh start. And she was not a crazy person.

But as he finished up and Jeanie’s immediate reaction was sadness to see him go, she couldn’t help but think that Hazel was right.

Her feelings for the handsome farmer were worse than she thought.

‘Will you be here in the morning? For coffee?’ Of course, for coffee, Jeanie. What else would he be here for? Don’t answer that, she admonished herself.

Logan straightened, dropping his screwdriver back into the toolbox. ‘Wouldn’t miss it.’

The coffee. He was talking about the coffee.

But something about the way he was looking at her, the small lift of his mouth at the corner, she thought maybe it wasn’t just the coffee. And then Annie’s words came back to her, Logan tends to fall hard, he had his heart broken. Jeanie was in no place to be responsible for someone’s heart. Certainly not someone as sweet as Logan. Not when she didn’t have a clue what she was doing here or who she even was anymore.

‘Great,’ she said, the word a bit too loud, too sharp as she nudged Logan toward the door. ‘See you tomorrow, then. And thanks again.’ She shut the door behind the bewildered farmer a bit too quickly, but she had to get him out before she did something she would regret, like bury her face in his soft flannel shirt and ask him to stay.

Logan was not responsible for helping her with the current messy state of her life. She needed to get that sorted out before she got anywhere near him, especially with his friends and the whole town watching.