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Teaberry Baking Contest

Page 4

by R A Wallace


  She tried turning it on and realized that the battery was dead. Better and better. She dug through her bag looking for the cord to charge it in her car. She couldn’t find it. She knew it had to be in there somewhere. Hearing a car approach, Jennifer considered the wisdom of a woman alone approaching an oncoming car and asking for help.

  She was still debating it when the car slowed long enough to pull into the other lane and made a wide swath to avoid Jennifer altogether. Jennifer watched the driver sail past her. The female driver looked to be about a decade older than Jennifer. Her hair was dyed an unnatural black shade and she was wearing it in a bouffant style. Jennifer couldn’t really blame the woman for not stopping. Not these days.

  Jennifer sighed. She looked over at the flat tire, then down at her fitted skirt and heels. This was so not going to work. But she had a to-go bag with her in the car in case she had to spend the night in Pittsburgh for whatever reason. There was a pair of shorts and some comfortable shoes in the bag. She dug them out then got back into the car and changed, watching her mirrors the entire time. No one came by.

  She pushed the button to pop the trunk and got to work. Getting the spare tire and the tools she’d need to change it wasn’t a problem. Getting the car jacked up was also do-able. It was when she tried to loosen the lug nuts that she realized she was in trouble. It took a lot of work, but she finally got some of them loosened. She was working on another one when she heard a car approach again.

  Straightening, she narrowed her eyes, trying to peer into the approaching truck. It was slowing, and that may not be a good sign. She held tightly to the lug wrench and watched with suspicion as the truck pulled in behind her car. When the tall man climbed out, Jennifer thought she was imagining it. She’d somehow conjured up Jim Baxter.

  Jim took a step away from his truck but stayed near it. “Hello, do you need help?”

  Jennifer smiled at his consideration. She knew he was trying not to scare her. “It’s Jim, isn’t it?”

  Jim cocked his head. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember, and I didn’t want to scare you. It’s Jennifer, right?”

  “Yes,” Jennifer replied. Then she lowered the lug wrench, realizing that she was still holding it as a weapon.

  “Flat tire?” Jim said, asking the obvious but she still hadn’t given him an okay to walk closer to her.

  “Yes.” Jennifer shook her head, wondering why she’d been reduced to one-word answers. “I could use some help, if you don’t mind?”

  Jim nodded his agreement and approached the rear of her car. “Looks like you almost had it anyway,” he said with an easy smile as he reached for the lug wrench.

  The remaining lug nuts gave way easily for him and he had the tire changed and the car back on the ground in a few minutes. He put the flat tire and tools back into the trunk and closed it.

  “Looks like you’re good to go. Are you headed back to Teaberry?” Jim asked.

  It occurred to him that he should have been asking questions while he was working. He’d have had more time to talk with her then. He’d been trying to work up his courage to call her ever since Caitlyn had introduced them. He’d asked Caitlyn more about Jennifer since then. Caitlyn had grinned but had simply answered his questions without any additional commentary like he would have gotten from one of the guys he worked with.

  “Yes, I spent the day working in Pittsburgh,” Jennifer said.

  She watched Jim look down at her shorts and canvas shoes and her own eyes did the same. The bottom half of her clothes were a casual complement to the fitted silk shirt she was wearing.

  She looked back up and grinned. “I changed in the car so I wouldn’t ruin my skirt.”

  “Ah.” Jim had no clue what to say to that.

  “I’d like to thank you for helping.”

  Jim started to say it wouldn’t be necessary when he got smart. “You could buy me a drink,” he said bravely.

  “Don’t you own a bar?” Jennifer asked with a grin.

  “Okay, I could buy you a drink,” Jim said with his own grin.

  “I’m free tonight.”

  “What a coincidence,” Jim said. “So am I.”

  Chapter Ten

  Megan finished getting the final touches ready for her guests late Friday afternoon. She had planned dinner and then changed her mind about a dozen times. Rather than standing in the kitchen and fretting about it anymore, she decided to check on the animals. She’d been watching the donkeys closely and Dora was still moving around more than what Casey had been hoping for given Dora’s wounded leg. At a loss as to how she could convince a donkey to stay still long enough for her leg to heal, Megan had been contemplating calling Casey.

  Apparently because everything at the Teaberry farm was new to both Flora and Dora, the two of them wanted to explore everything. Megan had been keeping them corralled in the paddock rather than letting them loose in the fields. She hoped that would reduce some of Dora’s activity. But instead, Dora often paced around the perimeters of the paddock, as though she were trying to find some way to escape to the larger fields beckoning her beyond her current confines.

  Megan walked through the kitchen, out onto the back porch, and down the steps. Looking at the chicken coop, she couldn’t see Henry. Then it occurred to her that she’d been so busy lately that she couldn’t remember seeing him all day. She glanced over at the garden first. He often liked hunting for bugs there. No Henry. Looking around the barnyard, she continued on to the paddock, searching for Henry as she walked.

  There she found Henry, and a very still Dora. Henry was perched on Dora’s back and for once she had stopped her constant pacing. Flora was nearby, munching grass contentedly.

  “Henry, are you keeping Dora company?” Megan leaned against the paddock fence and watched them.

  Everyone seemed happy where they were. Megan heard a car in the driveway and returned to the house, entering through the kitchen door in the rear. Her guests had begun arriving. She walked to the front door and looked out the window in time to see her first guest step onto the front porch.

  The woman was trailing a wheeled carry-on behind her. She was dressed in colorful clothes, her full figure and jet black hair styled high in a bouffant adding to her presence. Megan opened the door and smiled a greeting.

  The woman introduced herself as Charlotte LaMonti. She spoke expressively with her hands, explaining that she wanted to be the first to arrive so that she could make arrangements to switch to another room if necessary. Megan gave her a brief tour downstairs and then showed her to her room. Charlotte asked to see the other rooms before making her decision. In the end, she agreed to take the one Megan had chosen for her.

  “They’re all very quaint,” Charlotte said, apparently in an attempt to appease Megan for the extra effort she was requiring.

  Megan smiled politely and reminded Charlotte that there were refreshments available on the back porch.

  After returning to the first floor, she checked the front window and found another vehicle. The gentleman exited his car and quickly moved to the rear to pull out his luggage. He was wearing black dress slacks and a matching vest with a snow white shirt. Megan wondered how he managed it on such a warm day, but he looked perfectly pressed and dapper, for lack of a better word. His posture was very straight, and she wondered how a food judge could remain so trim.

  Megan welcomed Nigel Reese and showed him to his room after giving him a brief tour. Although he didn’t speak much, he seemed very polite and made it a point to thank Megan for her offer of refreshments. He didn’t stay in his room long and Megan turned to find him in the kitchen a few moments later. He was looking around the kitchen curiously. She was holding a tray of lemonade, wine, and glasses when she first saw him. He quickly offered to carry the tray and Megan held the door for him to make it easier to get onto the porch.

  Nigel asked about the farm then listened quietly, seeming to prefer that Megan do most of the talking. Charlotte LaMonti arrived on the porch a few moments la
ter and accepted the refreshments offered. Megan was about to pour Charlotte a glass of lemonade when she heard the doorbell. Nigel quickly offered to take over the duties while Megan went to answer the door.

  She found Regis and Heather Slater at the door and took them to their room. Eric Ortega arrived a few minutes later. After a short time, everyone was on the back porch enjoying a glass of wine. All but Nigel had changed into comfortable clothes. Eric explained that they all knew one another by name or had met in the past. Megan had wondered about that.

  “This is an interesting wine, is it local?” Eric asked. He was an energetic man, who appeared to be in motion even when he was sitting.

  Megan glanced at his glass. She’d put a couple of different bottles in the ice bucket on the tray, not knowing which they would prefer.

  “The Chambourcin? Yes, it’s becoming even more popular in our area lately,” she said.

  “So, Megan. What do we have planned for dinner tonight?” Regis Slater asked, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

  Megan took a deep breath. She fervently hoped her idea would be met with approval. “Well, it’s a beautiful day. I was wondering if you would mind a barbeque? I have some local meat and a lot of vegetables that I could…” Megan trailed off when both Eric and Regis stood.

  Eric spotted the grill first, but Regis wasn’t far behind. The two men grinned at each other before sprinting over to the grill.

  “Oh, this will do nicely,” Regis called over to the rest of the group.

  “I’ll fire it up,” Eric volunteered.

  Heather Slater laughed at the two men then turned to Megan. “You couldn’t have come up with a better plan. Having the option of cooking their own food, farm fresh, and in such a beautiful setting. You just made their day.”

  Megan smiled in relief. “I’ll go get the food prepped. I already have a salad and dessert made.”

  Nigel offered to help in the kitchen. Heather floated between helping in the kitchen, taking the food for the grill out to Eric and Regis, and carrying the cooked food back to the kitchen. They ate outside under the covered canopy Megan had set up on the paved area near the grill. She had a table and chairs under the canopy and there were also Adirondack chairs near the grill. Charlotte joined the group once the food was ready.

  “What can you tell me about the baking contest?” Megan asked as they were eating.

  “What did you want to know?” Regis asked. He looked relaxed and happy.

  “I don’t know anything about judging, for instance. How do you do that?”

  “We have rubrics that we follow. Fairly strict guidelines that are given to us by the organization we’re judging for,” Regis explained as he added some salad to his plate before passing the bowl.

  “It’s handled differently for different competitions both within the United States and elsewhere. Basically, any baking contest could make up any rules for the contestants, for the entries, for the categories and classes, and for the judges.” Eric took his own salad and passed the bowl.

  “Of course, we follow a much stricter set of rules for this competition,” Charlotte said.

  Nigel nodded agreement then smiled at Megan. “As with any community, food judging has its own vocabulary so that we can be as precise as possible. We also have a well-defined set of standards because there are national associations that set standards to follow.”

  “This is a closed judging contest meaning we do it in private rather than in front of the contestants. There are just too many entries to handle an open judging in a contest as popular as this one,” Heather added.

  “Do you think there will be a lot of contestants?” Megan asked.

  “Oh, wait and see,” Charlotte said, waving her hands. “It will be an absolute mad house and extremely competitive. Some of those people would kill to win.”

  Megan was glad she would only be involved as an observer to document the contest for the town web site. She didn’t think she’d want to be that stressed.

  “So,” Regis said as he pushed his empty plate forward and sat back in his chair. “What did you have planned for dessert?”

  Speaking of stress. “I hope you like it,” Megan said as she stood. “It’s just a simple Apple Rhubarb pie. I used Yellow Transparent apples from one of the trees in the orchard that I had frozen from last year. And my grandmother’s rhubarb.” Megan pointed first toward her orchard and then toward the garden.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jennifer Parker walked into the Teaberry Station Pub & Grill where she and Jim had agreed to meet. It was a safe place, Jennifer thought. They weren’t yet certain if they wanted to date and the Station Pub & Grill was neutral territory rather than a private place that would seem more like a real date.

  She was surprised to see that the place was full to capacity. The dining tables were packed with people and she wondered if she’d find a seat at the bar. She didn’t have to worry, it turned out. Jim had been saving one for her.

  “Wow. What gives tonight?” she asked, after greeting Jim.

  “The contestants for the baking contest have begun arriving and it looks like many of them brought their families.” Jim gave her a glass of wine and an apologetic smile. “I’d forgotten about that when I asked you to join me for a drink.”

  Jennifer looked behind the bar and wondered why Jim was the only one there. With the number of customers they currently had, one bartender wouldn’t cut it. She raised her eyebrows in question.

  “We’re short-handed tonight. A couple of people had to call off at the last minute. I hadn’t expected to be behind the bar at all when you got here but there’s no way I can leave now. I’m sorry,” Jim said, looking like he meant it.

  Jennifer didn’t have to think twice. Law school had been a long time ago, but she’d worked nights and weekends in a restaurant to put herself through it and part of that time had been spent behind the bar. She was certain it would come back to her. Pushing the wine glass away, she stood up and headed to the other side of the bar. “Where can I stow my bag?”

  “Seriously?” Jim looked two parts relieved that he might get some help and one part concerned that Jennifer wouldn’t know what she was doing.

  She gave him an enigmatic grin and handed him her bag. Then she got to work.

  ***

  Brad and Erica hadn’t counted on the large crowd when they’d decided to have a date night. Newly remarried, they were taking great pains to get it right this time around and that meant making the time to be together.

  “Who knew this many people would be interested in a baking contest,” Erica said as they were led to their table after waiting for nearly twenty minutes.

  She had also made it a point to wear something a little dressy and out of character for her. Given that she was often in uniform, a sundress was quite a departure from her regular look. She assumed she’d chosen wisely when she kept catching her husband staring at her with a gleam in his eyes.

  “It’s got to be good for the town to have this many people visiting for the weekend,” Brad replied. He looked around the room at all of the people. “I’m sure Lauren can beat everyone here.”

  Erica checked out the competition also. “I’m sure you’re right, but to be honest I’d just be happy if nothing unusual happens and no one breaks the law.”

  “Are you worried they’re going to poison the competition?” Brad joked.

  “Don’t even kid about it.”

  ***

  Jax Anderson wove his way through the crowd to the separate bar area passing by the dining section along the way. He saw Erica and Brad but didn’t try to get their attention. He knew date night when he saw it. He didn’t find an available seat at the bar, but he did manage to get the attractive bartender’s attention. She looked vaguely familiar, but he didn’t know why. She was tall and dark haired with a nice face and a knock out smile. He wondered how she could look so happy behind a bar when it was this crowded. He ordered a beer when she got to him. After paying, he turned
and looked out over the crowded bar.

  From his current vantage point, he could just see into the dining area. So this is what Caitlyn had been talking about all week. He never thought a baking contest would pull this many people into Teaberry. He was sure there were other contestants eating at other restaurants throughout Teaberry right now also. Some were local, of course, but most of the contestants appeared to be from out of town. He cringed when he heard a familiar voice next to him.

  “Jax! What a surprise.” Tara Hartle was standing next to him, way too close, holding two glasses of wine. Tara looked behind him then returned her focus to Jax, the eyeglasses sliding down her nose reflecting the light. “Is Caitlyn with you?”

  Jax thought it was an odd question. Then he remembered that Caitlyn was a judge in the baking contest and that Tara was a contestant. And that contestants weren’t allowed to fraternize with judges hoping to sway them in their favor.

  “Ah, no. No, she’s not. Excuse me.” Jax looked over to the booths against one wall of the bar area and spotted a familiar face. He bolted in that direction. “Seth, mind if I sit with you?”

  Seth looked up and smiled. “Jax! I didn’t know you were visiting. What brings you here?”

  “Actually, I’m not visiting. I’ve moved back to Teaberry.” Jax explained his idea for a new landscaping business.

  “Anderson’s Landscaping. It has a nice ring to it.” Seth leaned against the back of the bench seat. He had a glass of iced tea in front of him.

  “You look tired,” Jax said.

  “Yeah, I’m on my break actually. I help out here when I’m not at the fire station.” Seth looked around the busy bar and through the entry into the dining room. It was busy wherever he looked. “Think you’ll need any help with your new business?”

  “You thinking of trading hats?” Jax sipped his beer.

  “Maybe. Might be a nice change to work outside for a while,” Seth said as he rose. “I should get back to work. My break is over. You’ve got my number though, right? Let me know what you decide.”

 

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