by Olivia Miles
“You’re my only child. And I do think you should sell.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Really? You’re okay with that?”
“You’ve stayed here long enough, Cole. Get something that is yours. Something that makes you think of the future, and not the past.”
“We had some good times in this house,” he said, thinking of the few years they had when she was in remission. When hope sprung. When he thought he’d been given a second chance at being a good son. At…everything.
“I brought you home to this house.” His mother’s eyes watered. “You were the prettiest baby anyone had ever seen. You had such long eyelashes that everyone thought you were a girl.”
Cole barked out a laugh. “That’s a stretch.”
“It is now,” his mother said, chuckling. She shook her head, marveling at him. “You’re a fine man, Cole. The best man I’ve ever known.”
There was a heavy silence, and Cole knew that they were both thinking about another man in their family. A man they never discussed, because the hurt was still too raw.
“Your father and I had some good years…”
Cole set his jaw. He didn’t want to hear this. “Mom—”
She held up a hand. “Cole, we had some good years. And you did, too. I know that doesn’t make up for him leaving us like he did, but…those years were real. They counted. And they happened right here in this house.”
Cole thought of the little moments, the memories he’d tried to push away, like the time his father had helped him build a birdhouse, and hung it from the tree out front.
When he’d left, and when it was clear that he wasn’t coming back, Cole had climbed that tree all on his own and hacked down the birdhouse, tossing it in the trash. He knew his mother had watched from the window, but she never said a word about it.
Eventually, they never spoke of the topic at all. Until now.
“You were always different, though, Cole,” his mother continued. “Your father…he was restless. He never could have stood by my side like you have all these years.”
“I’m your son.”
“And a good man.”
Cole shook his head. He knew where this was going. His mother was thinking of Maddie. He was thinking of Maddie. Of the hurt in her eyes. The hurt he caused so easily, just like when they were kids. How quickly he could pull the light from her smile.
She was a good person. She had a kind heart. And he... “I’m not husband material.”
“Oh, now, don’t sell yourself short, Cole.” She gave him a pointed look. “You’re your own person. Your life is what you choose to make of it.”
What he chose to make of it. He hadn’t even dared to consider his life, or what he wanted. He’d been too busy getting by, and thinking about getting out. But beyond that escape was a blank canvas.
Only now it was starting to feel more like a vast nothingness.
“Your father ran away, Cole. You don’t have to.”
He chewed his lip, unable to agree. His head was pounding, and he needed more coffee, but he wanted to get out. To the garage. To the lake. Out of this house.
Away from the truth. Because that’s what his mother was telling him, wasn’t it? The cold hard truth. And he’d never been good at hearing it, or taking it. Even now, when what she was telling him was what he already knew. And yet he still fought it.
Maddie had opened his eyes. And his heart. Shown him that there was more to this town than bad memories. That there could maybe be a future.
He looked at his mother, sitting pale in her chair. He checked himself. Felt that tightening of his resolve. The protective wall came back up. Sure, there could maybe be a future. But there were no guarantees. And luck hadn’t ever been on his side.
“I should get started before it rains,” he said, reaching for the handle to the back door.
“Go ahead and paint the house,” she said. “But if you really want to cheer me up, you’ll bring me to the opening of the bakery. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about those cookies that Maddie Conway dropped off, and I’m hoping she has more.”
“Mom.” Cole gave her a long look. They both knew that Maddie’s cookies had nothing to do with her insistence of him taking her to the bakery on Tuesday. “Maddie is a very nice woman—”
Before he could finish, she said, “Leave it there, Cole. Some things are what they are, and it’s better to accept them than fight them.”
He pulled in a breath. She had him there.
“And Maddie is a very, very lovely girl,” his mother emphasized.
He gave her a little smile before he walked into the backyard. Yes, Maddie was everything his mother had described. And more.
And some things were what they were. No argument there.
15
Maddie didn’t know why she should be so worried about opening the door to the bakery. It wasn’t opening day—yet—and her family loved her, and supported her. They wanted her endeavor to be a success more than anyone else in the town. They were her biggest cheerleaders and always had been.
And they were therefore the ones that she wanted to impress the most.
The plan was for everyone to meet at the bakery and then go back to the house on Water Street, where Candy had promised a proper fall meal around the dining room table. Amelia would be sharing her lasagna recipe and Candy would be extending her baking skills to tackling the garlic rolls.
“It can’t be cheese biscuits every day,” Candy had announced, and Maddie could only stare in surprise, wishing her sisters had been there to share in this proclamation, because she’d come to love sharing everything with her sisters, from their clothes to their businesses to their wisdom.
But it was okay to have something all of her own, too. For once.
With one more breath, she unlocked the door and opened it, to the smiling faces of her father and sisters, her cousins Gabby and Jenna, and Candy, and her aunt and uncle in the back.
“I’ve already had the honors,” Candy told everyone, “so you all go in first.”
Amelia caught Maddie’s eye, and Cora suppressed a smile. There was no doubt in any of their minds that had Candy not already been inside the bakery, she would have been leading the pack today.
Or maybe not, Maddie thought, thinking back to her conversation with Candy the other day. Candy wanted to be a part of this family because she didn’t feel like part of it. But those days were over. A lot of things were over. And this bakery was living proof that the future was just beginning.
“Oh, Maddie,” Amelia breathed. She shook her head in wonder, and Maddie could almost swear she saw tears building in her eyes.
“This is beautiful,” Cora agreed, giving Maddie’s shoulder a little squeeze.
“I haven’t shown you everything yet,” Maddie said a little breathlessly, after the official tour was over, and they’d all oohed and awed over the kitchen and storage space, and the lights and the furniture.
Amelia had even taken the liberty of removing the tarp between their two establishments.
“Together again,” she announced, to everyone’s applause. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Maddie opened the cabinet in the kitchen, showing them the dishes she had carefully selected for the bakery.
“They’re just like Mom’s!” Cora marveled.
“Now I really feel like a part of her is here,” Maddie said, swallowing back the lump that had formed in her throat.
“I can think of something else that will make her here,” Britt said. She reached up and pulled the apron from the top shelf, where it was stowed away, still in tissue paper. “It’s time for you to officially wear this.”
Maddie glanced at all of her other family members, searching for approval, but knowing, deep down in her heart, just like she had always known, that she had it. And she always would.
With a big breath, she slipped the loop over her neck and tied it at her waist.
She was doing this. And it was way too late to turn
back now.
Not that she’d even dream of it.
*
By Tuesday morning, the house was painted, the lawn was raked, the coffee was brewing, and Cole was left wondering if his mother would remember that today was Maddie’s opening day.
Because it was all that he could think about. He imagined her turning the sign on the door. Standing behind the display case. The tarp now gone. The lights lit. The kitchen alive and busy.
He hoped it was everything she wanted it to be. He hoped that it would be a success, and that maybe, he’d helped play a little part in that.
His mother came down the stairs, looking a little rosier in the cheeks, but she said nothing as she eased into her favorite chair near the window and Cole handed her a warm mug. He waited a beat, to see if she would say anything, and then went about making some toast. He’d gone shopping as promised, in town. He’d seen Lanie who smiled, luckily nothing awkward there. And Bella, who mentioned that she had some new paperbacks his mother might like. He saw Matt, who told him how Amelia was going to be seeing the bakery for the first time Sunday night.
But he hadn’t seen Maddie. And as much as he’d expected that to come as a relief, by the time he’d loaded up his truck and pulled into the driveway of his house, he realized that the only thing he felt was disappointment.
The check that had quietly arrived in his mailbox on Friday afternoon, not posted, but rather placed, sat with the stack of envelopes and bills.
Cole looked away, focused on pulling out four slices of fresh bread—two for each of them—and setting them in the toaster.
He waited, wondering if his mother would say something now. Or if she’d eat her toast and then they’d get on with the day. If she’d stopped pushing him onto Maddie Conway.
If she’d given up.
His stomach knotted as he stared into the red coils of the toaster, knowing that he didn’t even want toast this morning. He didn’t want to go about his day like he usually did and always had.
He wanted more.
Abruptly, he stopped the toaster and turned to his mother. “I was thinking I might treat you to breakfast at Buttercream Bakery,” he said.
There. It was out. Decision made. And even though his heart was pounding at the implication of this simple invitation, he felt more alive than he had in years. And happier, too.
And from the broad smile that reached all the way up to his mother’s shining eyes, it was clear that the same could be said for her.
*
It seemed that half of Maddie’s concerns about the bakery vanished in the first hour of business, and she was too busy tending to customers, overseeing her new employee, and checking on her baked goods in the kitchen to even think about the other half.
Granted, most of her first customers were family members and friends, but then, this was Blue Harbor. Practically everyone in town was a friend of some sort, or at least, an acquaintance. Still, it warmed her heart to see everyone come out to support her, and it made her even more pleased to see the expression on their faces when they studied her display case, which was just bursting with fall favorites like cranberry scones and apple turnovers and, of course, her ever popular cinnamon rolls. Amelia had already sent over three people this morning in search of their daily fix.
Amy was in the kitchen while Maddie tended to the customers. It wouldn’t always be this way, but Maddie had arrived before dawn to get everything prepped and ready and she wanted to be sure to greet every customer on her big day. Now, as the first rush dwindled, she took stock of what remained in the case, deciding that she should probably pop another sheet pan of the apple cinnamon coffee cake into the oven. It was turning out to be one of her top sellers.
She checked the door one more time, and then hurried to the kitchen, where Amy was drizzling cream cheese frosting over the cinnamon rolls. She was rosy cheeked and humming. Maddie couldn’t help but smile. They’d worked together for a good portion of the weekend getting ready for this day, and she was nearly as grateful for the help as she was the company.
Being alone didn’t suit her any more than working alone did, she’d come to realize. It was so much more satisfying to share an experience.
Amy looked up. “Cinnamon rolls are ready.”
“Great! Why don’t you bring those out and cover the counter while I make another coffee cake?”
Amy didn’t need further direction. She grabbed an oven mitt, lifted the pan, and scooted back into the storefront. The sweet smell that wafted behind her was one that Maddie never tired of, and she knew people in Blue Harbor didn’t either. Those cinnamon rolls were her staple at Firefly Café and they had earned her a stamp of approval in this town.
Maddie went to work quickly with a fresh mixing bowl, measuring the ingredients without needing to consult her recipe book. She looked down at her mother’s apron as she worked, feeling her heart fill with fond memories, and said a silent thank you to the woman who had really been the one to make this all possible.
Because she couldn’t have done it on her own.
She had just set the timer when there was a knock on the swing door.
Immediately, Maddie tensed. Yes, she was in a much better place with Candy, but that didn’t mean she needed the woman stopping by mere hours into her first day.
“Come in,” she said warily, hoping that it might be her father instead. Her sisters and cousins would be busy at their own businesses today, after all.
She braced herself for Candy’s energy and enthusiasm, only it wasn’t Candy at all. It was Cole.
Her heart began a slow and steady drum. “Cole.” She let the word hang there. Didn’t know what else to say, really. Had he not received his check? Had Candy deliberately not dropped it off to prompt this moment?
But no, she knew now that Candy had no part of this. That Candy had said to let him be. Let him search his soul a bit.
Now, with a fresh surge of hope that she almost didn’t dare to feel, Maddie wondered if Candy had been right.
Again.
Cole shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, giving her a little grin. “I realized that I never did get to try one of those cinnamon rolls that Candy was telling me about.”
Maddie swallowed hard. She stood by the center island, in the kitchen that he had built. The kitchen that felt like it was just as much his as it was hers.
“I just made a fresh batch. If you go out to the counter now, you can probably still get one.”
He nodded slowly, but showed no intention of moving. “The thing is that walking out to that counter means walking away from you again. And…I don’t want to do that.”
She blinked at him. Waited. Wanted to believe that he meant what he was saying. That he wanted what she did. That he believed that there could be a future in this little town, despite the difficulty of the past.
He took a step toward her. She felt herself stiffen.
“I’m not as tough as I look, Cole,” she said. “I put up walls, too. I don’t want to feel hurt again either.”
He didn’t argue with her. “These past few weeks were some of the best days that I’ve ever had in this town. Maybe it was because I finally let those walls come down. Or maybe it was because of you.”
“Because of me?” She’d only given him a job, really, and not by choice. “I was just being myself, Cole. I wasn’t trying to push you or change your mind.”
“But you did,” he said, giving her a slow grin. He reached out, took her hand. His palm was warm, big, and she wanted to snatch her hand back as much she never wanted him to let it go.
“You need to do what’s best for you. I know what it’s like, to lose someone you love.”
“I thought I did, too, until I started thinking about how it would feel to lose you.” He met her eyes, and for a moment, her breath caught. “I want to stay, Maddie. I want to start over. I want to let people in. I don’t want to hide anymore. And I guess I’m putting it all out there. Seeing what you’ll say.”
&
nbsp; She searched his eyes, so deep and intense, the same eyes that had been unreadable once, that now seemed to bore straight through to her heart.
“I think I should almost be mad at you, but I can’t,” she said, fighting off a smile that stretched across her face, matching the one he now wore.
“Because—”
“Because now I have to admit that Candy was right,” Maddie said, laughing. She reached out and took his other hand. He squeezed it gently, showing no signs of letting go as he leaned down and kissed her slowly. And sweetly.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Olivia Miles is a USA Today bestselling author of feel-good women’s fiction with a romantic twist. She has frequently been ranked as an Amazon Top 100 author, and her books have appeared on several bestseller lists, including Amazon charts, BookScan, and USA Today. Treasured by readers across the globe, Olivia’s heartwarming stories have been translated into German, French, and Hungarian, with editions in Australia in the United Kingdom.
Olivia lives on the shore of Lake Michigan with her family.
Visit www.OliviaMilesBooks.com for more.
