by Nina Crespo
Feet away, Kyle’s face was red with frustration as he bellowed at the interns. “What the heck happened? You were supposed to make sure no one wandered through the area.”
Scott took off his hat. He still didn’t know her name. Would a second apology give him a chance to find out who she was? Maybe he could use it as an excuse to start a conversation with her.
Kyle intersected his path, stopping him from following her. “Things looked great up until the landing, but good job on the recovery. That could have been a real disaster. Is she okay?”
Scott reluctantly took his gaze away from her and focused on Kyle. “I think so.” He released a wry laugh. “But she’s not happy. I’m lucky she didn’t bite my head off.”
“The quick thinking you just did is the prime reason I don’t want Nash doing his own stunts. The ability to adjust like that at the last minute is all about instinct and experience. He just won’t accept that he’s not there yet.”
“You’re still getting pressure from him?”
“Yeah. Now that he’s gone through some stunt training, he thinks he’s a professional. And it doesn’t help that he’s the lead actor for this movie, but as easy as this stunt looks to Nash, if I let him do it and he gets hurt, the director, the insurance company and the rest of the film backers will have my ass. That’s why this rehearsal is off the grid with just the four of us. I didn’t want him butting in about what he thinks he can do. As far as I’m concerned, if Nash hasn’t rehearsed it, he won’t do it. Period.”
Scott understood Kyle’s pain. There were actors that wouldn’t risk getting a scratch, and then there were those like Nash Moreland who believed doing their own stunts brought authenticity to their action scenes or, sometimes, it was about the bragging rights to impress their fans.
Scott tipped his head toward the barn. “If we rig a harness to the beam, I’m ninety-five percent sure he can do this one without a problem.”
Kyle released a gruff chuckle. “Harness or not, I need ninety-nine point nine percent certainty before I make that decision. Right now, my main concern is you nailing this without any problems. We need to get this done before lunch starts and the cast and crew show up. You ready to try it again, this time without interference?”
“Let’s do it.” As Scott lifted his hand to wipe sweat from his brow, a streak of what looked to be fruit filling and pie crust on the back of his fingers stopped him. He licked over it and sweetness perked up his taste buds.
Blueberries. Not bad. Scott’s gaze strayed over to the woman he had yet to meet standing under the tent. Not bad at all.
Chapter Three
“Are you okay?” Philippa took the peach and apple pies from the sheet pan Rina was holding and arranged them on the buffet table.
“Yes. But what am I going to do with these?” Rina tipped her head toward the two ruined blueberry pies.
“Just stick a spoon in them instead of a spatula. There’s space for them right here.” Philippa put them next to the other pies.
“But they look terrible. They’re supposed to be round not smashed.”
“Relax, Ms. Patty Perfect.” Humor shown in Philippa’s coppery-brown eyes bringing out the youthful glow in her light brown face that had a smattering of freckles. “They’re still good. Trust me. If this past weekend is an indication of how this crowd eats, the only thing left will be crumbs.”
“They’re lucky to have pies at all.” Rina couldn’t stop herself from glancing toward the guy who’d practically mowed her over and ruined her desserts. He was talking with the balding middle-aged man who’d come out of the barn after their run-in. Philippa had said they were rehearsing a stunt for the movie.
Philippa nudged her. “Stop glaring at the poor guy. I tried to warn you the area was blocked off. How did you miss the big orange cones?”
“I was distracted.”
“By what?”
She and Philippa had both been so busy lately they hadn’t had a moment to catch up. “Dennis handed in his resignation a little over a week ago.”
Philippa turned towards her. “Dennis, the fixer of all things, resigned? You’re joking.”
That had been her response when the sixty-two-year-old who’d been with her from the beginning, and had served as the maintenance man for the bakery that had resided in the space before the cafe, had told her that he was leaving. “No, it’s not a joke. He said he needed an adventure.”
“An adventure? What exactly is he planning to do for excitement in Bolan?”
“That’s the even bigger surprise. He’s not staying in town. He bought a one-way ticket to Alaska. He even turned his house into an Airbnb and found someone to manage things while he’s gone.”
“Wow.” Philippa shook her head. “I wonder what got into him? I hope he knows what he’s doing.”
“I do, too.”
Eight years ago, when she was nineteen, she’d left town with her then boyfriend, Xavier, looking for the same thing. But instead of adventure, she’d encountered disappointment and heartache instead. Hopefully Dennis wouldn’t experience the same.
Rina picked up a serving spoon from the table and stuck it in one of the blueberry pies. “Until I can find someone to replace him, the staff and I are taking care of deliveries and all of the tasks he used to do, but repairs are starting to pile up, and I’m behind in making the desserts for tomorrow’s tasting with the buyer from Gwen’s Garden.”
The natural foods market chain was interested in offering her a wholesaler’s contract to provide pies for their local stores. Weeks ago when the opportunity popped up, she’d been thrilled. But almost overnight, a windfall of opportunities had suddenly turned into an avalanche of worries. How was she supposed to get it all done?
Philippa patted her arm. “I know how much you counted on him. No wonder you’re stressed. I can check in with some of my people and see if they’re interested in working for you on their days off or after their shifts. You could also talk to Tristan about sending a maintenance worker from here to help out with repairs.”
“No, I don’t want to overwork your staff. You need them for all the catering you’re doing for this contract, and I don’t want to bother Tristan either. He has his hands full trying to coordinate Tillbridge’s work schedule with the filming of the movie.”
Philippa arched her brow. “From the smile on his face these days, he’s handling it just fine.”
“I’m sure we have Chloe to thank for that.”
“Definitely.”
A few short months ago, Chloe Daniels, an actress, had come to Tillbridge to research life at a horse stable for an audition. They’d fallen for each other. She’d since won the part in Shadow Valley, and now Chloe and Tristan were both excited about spending more time together while she worked on the film.
“If you don’t want to bother Tristan, there is another way.” From the look in Philippa’s eyes, Rina already knew what she was going to say.
“Ask Zurie instead of Tristan for help? That’s a huge nope. First, I’d get the judgy look, then I’d get a lecture from her on what I should have done to prevent Dennis from leaving and after that, she’d try to micromanage whoever she sent over to my cafe to help out. It’s not worth the headache.”
Philippa held her hands up in surrender. “It was just a suggestion. She is the co-manager of the entire operation along with Tristan.”
It wasn’t a bad idea, but these days, Rina didn’t have energy for the smile, ignore, deflect game she usually played with Zurie whenever she talked to her. “Someone called the cafe today looking for a job. They could work out, and who knows, Dennis could change his mind and come back.”
“Maybe.”
Rina followed Philippa’s gaze that had shifted to the two men in front of the barn. “I didn’t know middle-aged guys were your thing. Don’t be shy. Prance on over there and say hello to him.”
> “I don’t prance. I walk gracefully. And if I were interested in saying hello to anyone, it would be the guy that ran into you. He’s Nash Moreland’s stunt double, and in my opinion, he’s a lot better looking than Nash.”
Thirtyish, dirty blond hair on the longish side, a five o’clock shadow covering his angled jawline, hazel green eyes with more than a hint of mischief to match his easy smile. It did all fit together for an appealing package. “He’s okay.”
“Just okay? You wouldn’t say that if you saw him without the jacket. He had it off earlier when he came over here to ask for some water. Girl...” Philippa fanned her face. “After seeing him up close, I needed water to cool off. Too bad this film isn’t about lifeguards.”
Rina’s own imagination wandered into Philippa’s daydream territory, rewinding to when he’d effortlessly held her up while keeping the tray of pies from falling to the ground. Then it morphed into him without the jacket, wrapping his strong arms around her while she leaned into his solid, muscular chest. Heat started to flush into her cheeks, and she swept the image aside. Now wasn’t the time for fantasies.
“Everyone will be here soon. Shouldn’t you bring out the rest of the food?”
“Probably.” Even though the two men had gone back inside the barn, Philippa still stared in that direction. “He looked intense when he came over here. I wonder what he’s like when he’s not working?”
The teasing, sexy, oh-so-confidant smile he’d flashed after “saving the pies” came into Rina’s mind.
Nash Moreland’s double sailed out of the barn, and in one fluid movement, he rolled to a crouching position with the prop pistol in his hand.
The way he performed that stunt so easily and mindlessly told Rina all she needed to know. Just like Xavier, he viewed himself as invincible.
Chapter Four
Scott parallel parked the red two-door compact near the sidewalk in downtown Bolan. Even though it was almost eight thirty at night, people still mingled along Main Street.
The small town was on trend with other revitalized provincial paradises he’d come across during his travels. They even had the requisite quaint sign on the way in: Welcome to Bolan. Friends and Smiles for Miles Live Here.
In the center of the area, a town square with neatly clipped grass and flowering bushes featured a large stone water fountain surrounded by park benches. Old-fashioned-styled streetlamps illuminated a path through the square. They also lined the sidewalks on either side of him in front of small businesses including an ice cream parlor, a floral shop, a bookstore, a dress boutique, a wine bar and the Brewed Haven Cafe across the street on the corner. Unlike the other businesses that were linked together in strip mall fashion, the two-story light-colored brick cafe with large storefront windows stood on its own.
Rina Tillbridge. He’d finally found out her name from one of the staff at Pasture Lane Restaurant. They’d also told him she owned the cafe.
Grateful to stretch his legs that were tight from a long day of rehearsing stunts then riding in the small car, Scott grabbed his phone from the cup holder in the middle console between the seats and got out.
He usually drove his SUV or rode his Harley to a job whenever he could, but Kyle had needed him in Maryland sooner than later. The stuntman originally hired to double for Nash Moreland had hurt himself rock climbing right before he was supposed to show up for the filming of Shadow Valley. With Scott having doubled for Nash in the past, he’d been called to replace the injured stuntman. Home early in Los Angeles from working on an independent film production in Hawaii, he’d been looking forward to a couple of weeks of downtime, but Kyle had given him his first movie job and recommended him to several other stunt coordinators. After all Kyle had done for his career, he couldn’t turn him down.
Lights in the cafe illuminated the storefront window. The scene of people sitting at wood tables with single-flower centerpieces and in the light purple booths lined along the wall, enjoying food, caffeinated drinks and conversation, drew more than a few pedestrians inside.
The bright decor reminded him of Rina Tillbridge’s vibrant laughter. He would have preferred hearing her laugh instead of ticking her off that morning.
So you get paid to crash into people?
On occasion, but I just performed one of my greatest stunts. I saved two out of two.
Yeah, he’d actually thrown out that line with a fake drawl and a smile, expecting her to smile back at him. But from the look on her face, he’d come off as cocky instead. By the time he and Kyle had finished running through the stunt two more times, she was leaving.
He’d spotted her in the distance trekking across the pasture to the parking lot. The hitch in her step had probably been imperceptible to everyone else, but he’d covered up enough aches and pains in his time to notice. Had he caused it? He’d been so proud of himself for making the correction in his landing he hadn’t thought to ask if she was okay.
The breeze from passing cars ruffled his slate gray pullover. Scott tucked the keys in the front pocket of his jeans. As he crossed the street to Brewed Haven, his phone rang and he checked the screen. It was his younger sister. If Wendy was calling him about what he thought she was, it wouldn’t be a short conversation. Scott tapped Ignore and walked into the cafe.
Waitstaff in purple T-shirts with the cafe’s yellow logo served customers in the dining area to his right. The two baristas at a curved station in front of him were just as busy preparing coffees and serving up desserts from the glass showcase below the service counter.
Some of the customers just grabbing coffees or desserts migrated to an alcove on the left. Round tables along with beige couches with purple throw pillows tucked into spaces under the three side windows filled the smaller space.
Was Rina still there? According to the sign on the door, they closed in thirty minutes. Maybe she’d already gone home for the night.
Scott took a seat in a high-backed stool at the long dining counter that branched off from the coffee service area into the main dining space. The pleasing scents of succulent food wafted over him and his mouth watered. He’d had dinner with members of the crew earlier that evening, but that was hours ago. He could still eat. He perused the plastic-covered menu featuring burgers, sandwiches, various entrées and desserts.
A short time later a curvy, twenty-something brunette with a short hi-low bob and lightly tanned skin came over to him. “Welcome to Brewed Haven. My name is Darby. Can I get you coffee or another beverage?”
“Iced tea would be great. Is Rina Tillbridge still here? I know it’s late, but if she has a minute, I’d really like to speak with her.”
Recognition came into her blue eyes seeming to imply she knew who he was. Maybe she’d seen him with the crew at Tillbridge? Many of the locals were patronizing the restaurant in the guesthouse where he was staying, hoping to run into Nash.
“Oh right, you’re here to see Rina.” Skepticism filled her face. “I don’t know, maybe if you’d come by earlier, but now...”
“If she’s busy, I can wait.” Two plates piled high with meatloaf, mashed potatoes and what looked to be fresh green beans that a server was delivering to customers at a nearby table snagged Scott’s attention. “And if the kitchen hasn’t closed yet, I’d like to order the special.”
Darby’s brows raised as she gave him a strange look. “One meatloaf special. Got it.”
A server flagged Darby down on the other side of the room. She rushed away before he could give her his name.
* * *
Rina added butter to the bowl in the mixer sitting on the metal prep counter along the wall in the kitchen. After adjusting the attachment, she turned the mixer on. As it whirred away, she leaned a bit on the counter, easing some of the weight from her right leg. Her knee ached a little more than usual from stomping on the brake that morning when the truck had sped out of nowhere on the main road.
; When she’d gotten back from Tillbridge, she’d considered taking a short break upstairs in her apartment, but she had too much to do, and she’d also arranged an interview right before dinner service with the guy who’d inquired about the job. He had an impressive background having worked as a handyman and also as a kitchen helper at a hotel restaurant. He’d called back to say he couldn’t make it until later. They’d rescheduled to meet thirty minutes ago, but he’d still failed to show up.
The pies she’d made for tomorrow’s tasting with Gwen’s Garden, now cooling on a rack farther down the counter, wouldn’t fall in the failure category. Their recipes had been passed down through her family on her mother’s side, in some cases for multiple generations. As a little girl, her mother had taught her how to correctly measure out the ingredients and balance the flavors of salty, tart and sweet.
Baking the pies brought her close to the comfort she used to experience when she’d gotten on her horse and settled into her favorite English saddle. Peace, accomplishment, the feeling of freedom as she and her horse soared over fences in the arena. Wistfulness pinged inside of Rina. But her competition days were long over. Brewed Haven was the priority now.
In the middle of the steel blue floored space with industrial stainless steel appliances, cooks worked in tandem preparing food.
The dark-haired head cook, Ben, plated the servers’ orders and set them up with service tickets in a large pass-through window opening to an adjoining corridor.
On the far side of the kitchen, more staff ran dirty dishes through the dish machine.
Luckily, service was running smoothly, and she’d been able to concentrate on baking pies and trying out a new dessert recipe that had caught her eye. She’d come across it in a magazine at her dentist’s office the other week. Maybe she’d just been hungry at the time, but she’d torn out the page, stuck it in her bag and baked the pear bars that same day upstairs in her apartment.
