by Olivia Miles
Because of You
a Blue Harbor novel
OLIVIA MILES
Rosewood Press
ALSO BY OLIVIA MILES
Blue Harbor Series
A Place for Us
Second Chance Summer
Stand-Alone Titles
Meet Me at Sunset
(Evening Island)
This Christmas
Oyster Bay Series
Feels Like Home
Along Came You
Maybe This Time
This Thing Called Love
Those Summer Nights
Still the One
One Fine Day
Had to Be You
Misty Point Series
One Week to the Wedding
The Winter Wedding Plan
Sweeter in the City Series
Sweeter in the Summer
Sweeter Than Sunshine
No Sweeter Love
One Sweet Christmas
Briar Creek Series
Mistletoe on Main Street
A Match Made on Main Street
Hope Springs on Main Street
Love Blooms on Main Street
Christmas Comes to Main Street
Harlequin Special
Edition
‘Twas the Week Before Christmas
Recipe for Romance
Copyright © 2020 by Megan Leavell
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Because of You
contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
1
Fall was in the air and already the leaves on the maple trees that lined Main Street were tipped with orange, falling softly in the breeze as they made their way gently to the pavement. Maddie Conway resisted the urge to gather a few, like she had as a child. Usually, she loved Blue Harbor at this time of year—it brought up memories of back to school shopping and cozy new soft wool sweaters (even if they were often passed down by her three older sisters), and coming home to their big, lakefront Victorian, walking into the warm kitchen, and seeing her mother at the big center island, inviting her to help with an apple or pumpkin pie.
But this afternoon, as Maddie walked home from the family orchard to the smaller house she shared with her sister Amelia, she couldn’t help but feel a nervous flutter. And no matter how much she tried to quicken her pace or tell herself that it would all be okay, she just couldn’t quite convince herself. She’d even walked—all the way from Conway Orchard—when she could have easily accepted a ride from her eldest sister Britt, who more often than not gave her a ride there and back each week, so the pies Maddie baked at home and sold at the market wouldn’t get damaged. She’d thought the fresh air would do her some good, that the exercise would work out the anxiety. She’d taken her sweet time. Detoured—by a couple of hours, she now realized. Delayed the inevitable return to her apartment with her spreadsheets and lists. Told herself that she would clear her head first.
So much for that.
It was Sunday, and in their family, Sunday was reserved for two things: market day and family dinner, at least it had once…Still, this evening they would be reinstating that tradition, even if it wasn’t going to be a weekly thing now that all four sisters had flown the nest and their father…Well, their father had finally moved on, more than fourteen years after the loss of wife. Something all the sisters tried to tell each other was a good thing, even if their eyes didn’t lie. It was an adjustment period. For all of them, Maddie reminded herself, knowing that she wasn’t alone and never had been. She had three sisters, a loving father, cousins, friends…she was surrounded by support in her hometown. But some days, it just didn’t feel that way.
Maddie had spent the morning selling her homemade pies at Conway Orchard like she did every week. The orchard and winery that had been in her family for generations; it was something she was proud to be part of, something that had allowed her to hone her skills, something that cemented her place in her beloved Michigan town. She’d set one pie aside for tonight’s dinner, knowing that if she brought it to the market, it would be snatched up without her even noticing until it was too late, and she intended to stop by home, grab it, and go. The longer she lingered, the more she would fret. And pace. And think that really, she should have used the day doing something at the storefront that would soon be her bakery rather than bake pies for the market, because at this rate, she’d never get her business open. And then winter would hit. And winter in Blue Harbor was cold. So cold that even the locals didn’t get out as much. And really, she should have thought about all that before she decided to use all of her savings to take the vacant spot next to her sister’s café, and quit her steady job there, too.
Maybe, Amelia would take her back. She chewed her lip, wondering if this was possible. Maybe, her sister would even want to expand and buy her out. Firefly Café was one of the most popular destinations in town, and seating for the outdoor patio was always in high demand on the warmer evenings. Maybe, Maddie could just pretend that brief moment of insanity when she declared she would start her own bakery could all be forgotten. Life could go back to normal. It would be comfortable and safe.
She’d feel things out with Amelia tonight, at dinner.
With her anxiety under control for the moment at least, Maddie let herself into the garden unit of the house owned by her sister, and grabbed her pie from where it was cooling on the counter in her small kitchen. Apple, of course. She only used what was in season, and right now the orchard was bursting with apples of different colors and sizes, and tourists who came to enjoy one last getaway weekend in the quaint, lakeside town that she had called home all her life, but never took for granted.
Yes, she told herself again, it would be all right. She loved where she lived, and she loved what she did, and she had the unwavering support of her family at her side.
She just didn’t want to let them down.
With her pie in hand, she locked her door, walked up the stairs to Amelia’s front door, and knocked, only to remember that since the café closed early on Sundays, Amelia was helping Britt with a wine tasting at the orchard this afternoon. Britt had mentioned they would arrive at the house together, but by then Maddie had sold out of pies and had no excuse to linger and was no longer distracted by all the lively conversation with familiar faces at the market, and her mind was wandering, back to scary territory. Back to her long, chaotic list of things big and small that would all need to be accounted for if she actually planned to go through with opening her bakery.
By house, Britt meant their childhood home that was tucked at the base of a tree-lined street, its back to Lake Huron, where the girls would splash and swim all summer long. Maddie opted to walk, knowing that the more she kept busy, the less the nerves could get to her. She held the pie in both hands, knowing that if she dropped it, Britt would be mighty disappointed, and so would their father. The man had always loved
a good pie, especially with the fruit from his own crops.
But the pie was delivered safely, the walk passed by in a blur, and Maddie was happy to see that she wasn’t the first of her sisters to arrive. Cora was helping their father shuck the last of the summer corn on the front porch as she approached.
“Oh good,” Dennis said, grinning at her. “Now I can pass the reins.”
She smiled. He knew she’d always enjoyed this task as a girl, more than Cora at least, who looked bored as she set another ear of corn in a basket.
“Trade you then,” Maddie said, handing her father the pie box.
He took in the smell, smiling at what he’d determined. “Apple. It’s officially fall.”
“Not quite,” Maddie said. Fall was still a week away, technically speaking. Still, it was close enough.
“Well, I for one am ready for the change of season,” Cora said when their father disappeared through the front door with the dessert, letting the screen door slap shut behind him.
“Easy for you to say,” Maddie commented. “You own a holiday shop!”
“True,” Cora said ruefully. “But I still see most of my sales during tourist season. It’s always nice when things quiet down and the town becomes our own again, though.”
Maddie settled onto a wicker chair and pulled an ear of corn from the basket. “True.”
“You don’t sound so sure of that,” Cora remarked. She frowned as she brushed at the corn silks on her lap.
Maddie wasn’t sure of anything lately. She had planned to get her bakery open by October, but now that date was starting to feel a little optimistic. Amelia’s boyfriend, Matt Bradford, had drawn up the plans for the renovation of the space, and, seeing as he was on the town zoning commission in addition to being an architect, he’d pushed through the plans for the permit, too. She was all ready to start construction and turn what had once been a stationery store into the bakery of her dreams; only now that it was no longer a dream, but a pressing, all-consuming reality, she felt overwhelmed with decisions, and details, and things that were not part of her wheelhouse.
She knew flour and sugar and butter. She could make a perfect pie crust with her eyes closed, but when it came to things like pricing and furniture and overhead and budget, she felt downright queasy.
Before she had a chance to respond to Cora, Britt’s car pulled up onto the gravel driveway, and their two older sisters hopped out of the car. As usual, Britt brought with her wine and cider from the orchard, and Amelia had leftovers from today’s wine pairings.
“Couldn’t let this brie go to waste,” she said, revealing an entire wheel that hadn’t been sliced.
Maddie’s stomach growled in anticipation. She’d been too busy looking at light fixture options on her laptop to grab breakfast before the market, and then too busy at the market to stop to eat.
“What was the event today?” Cora asked. It was a new offering at the family business; one of Britt’s many ambitions to grow the orchard and vineyard and give them a cushion for the leaner, winter months. “Another bachelorette party?”
“Sixtieth birthday,” Britt said with a little smile. “But it may as well have been a bachelorette party. These women were wild!”
Maddie laughed. “I hope we’re still able to have fun when we’re that age.”
“I don’t see why not!” Amelia remarked, but Maddie wasn’t so convinced. Things were changing, and quickly. Britt and Amelia were both reunited with their high school sweethearts now, and it didn’t take a genius to know what that meant. They were soul mates, first loves, picking up right where they’d left off, and happily so. There was none of the worry about when to call, when the next date would be, or if things would last.
No doubt one of them would be engaged by spring, the other by summer. And then…then everything would change.
Maddie finished shucking the last of her corn. “I wonder what’s on the menu tonight,” she said, meeting Amelia’s eye.
She saw her other sisters glance at each other, too. Since their father had started seeing Candy, she had introduced a new cuisine into their lives. Gone were the traditional meals they had come to expect with Sunday night dinners of the past, when their mother would make a tray of lasagna or a roasted turkey, or, when the weather was still warm enough to eat outside, grilled fish and corn, which Maddie might have thought they were having tonight, but knew from recent experience would not be the case.
“Should we take bets?” Amelia asked, giving her a wink.
“Ha,” Maddie said, but she might have done, if she wasn’t pinching every penny with the start up of her new business.
Really, she told herself, as she followed her sisters through the door, she should feel comforted by the fact that she had grown up in a family business, and that each of her sisters now owned or operated their own business too.
But instead of feeling prepared, she felt overwhelmed. And maybe even a little threatened.
The house was quiet as they walked down the hallway, past the rows of family photos that still hung on the walls, mercifully unchanged, and past the dining room, which was not set with placemats or glasses, or any indication that dinner would be taking place. Maddie idly wondered if this was going to be a family dinner like a couple weeks back, when Candy announced they’d all be eating on TV trays, because the season finale of one of her favorite dating shows was on, and Amelia had barely been able to contain her glee because she was a closet viewer of that show too—something Maddie only knew because she lived below her and the walls were thin.
Still, it was a bit worrisome. Candy was different than their mother in every possible way, and despite all the sisters feeling apprehensive about their father finding someone new after fourteen years, Candy didn’t seem to be going anywhere, and they were all learning to adjust. Some sooner than others.
“Oh! They’re here!” a voice trilled from the open screen door at the back of the house, and before Maddie had time to prepare herself, Candy burst into the kitchen, her arms open wide, her smile big, and her eyes downright eager.
Maddie went to scoot behind Cora, but she wasn’t quick enough, and before she knew it, she was Candy’s first victim—make that only victim, because her sisters used the opportunity to dash out to the back porch. Traitors.
Candy’s arms pulled her close to her sizable bosom, and kept her there as Candy swayed jauntily from side to side. Even with her face muffled into Candy’s shoulder, Maddie could hear the smile in the woman’s voice when she said, “I’ve been looking forward to this all day!”
The hug or the dinner? Probably both.
A wave of shame came down over Maddie as Candy released her. She was trying, and her intentions were in the right place. And she made their father so happy. Happier than Maddie could remember seeing him since she was just a kid, really, and sadly, those memories were a bit fuzzy.
“I made something really special for tonight!” Candy bit her lip and rubbed her hands together eagerly, and, with knowing dread, Maddie followed her out onto the back porch where, to her horror, a pig was roasting on a spit.
For a moment, she thought she might pass out. Or scream.
Candy must have seen the reaction in her face, because she said, “You’re not a vegetarian, all of a sudden, are you?”
She was not, but today…Today she was.
With a tight smile, she averted her eyes, and walked quickly toward her father, who was standing at the grill. Maddie was almost afraid to ask what was inside, but when he caught her expression, he winked at her and said, “Burgers. Just in case.”
“Dad.” Maddie’s voice was thick with emotion. Surely he remembered the time that she had been asked to dissect a baby pig in biology class, and had instead hidden in the bathroom, with tears streaming down her face, to the endless delight of the boys in her grade. She’d never eaten bacon again. Didn’t bake with it either, which was a shame, really.
He just gave her a kind smile and said, “She’s trying. Just…give her a
chance.”
Maddie pulled in a breath and went to join her sisters, who were huddled around the picnic table, which today bore a festive cloth that Candy must have put out for the occasion. Even if it was pink. Like pigs, Maddie couldn’t help but think with a small whimper. But it was Candy’s unabashed favorite color and that was more likely the reason behind it.
She sat with her back to the massacre going on behind her. She felt tears prickle her eyes.
It was Amelia who set a hand on hers, looking downright amused. She knew all about the biology class incident. Their mother was gone by then, and Britt was in college, and Amelia had been the one to write a note to the teacher, begging for an alternative assignment and citing emotional distress as the cause.
“Dad ambushed us the moment we walked outside, so we had some preparation. I know it was a shock, but I guess it’s something that Candy’s family did once a year, at special cookouts.”
“You did always love ham and cheese sandwiches when you were little,” Britt said gently. She started to sputter on a laugh, and Amelia elbowed her when Maddie narrowed her eyes.
“It’s just…too much.”
“Everything about Candy is too much,” Cora sighed. “But that’s just how she is.”
“You know how I felt when I first met her. Seeing her here, in the house, doting on Dad the way she did.” Now it was Britt’s turn to narrow her eyes. “But she’s a good person. And Dad’s happy. And we shouldn’t expect him to be alone forever, especially now that we’ve all left the house.”
Maddie grumbled in response. “I guess it could be worse. You’re the one who has her working for you now,” she said to Amelia.
Maddie wondered now if part of her impatience with Candy was because the woman had essentially replaced her at Amelia’s café. It was a job she had held for years, and loved, not just because she got to work side by side with her sister but because she got to bake. And because, truth be told, she felt safe. Amelia always took care of her.
