Gratefully she told him, ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’
‘Take your time. The missus will have me doing the bulk of the work setting up our stall if I get back too soon. This way I get a rest; I did the lugging of the supplies so her turn now.’ He had a coffee in hand and seemed quite happy to do his bit.
‘Love it, bit of equality,’ she grinned before she headed back to the car for the next load.
After a few runs to and from the car, she finally had the last box in her arms and was headed back to stall number one, ready for the day ahead. As she approached, she looked at the large canopy over the stall in case it rained and remembered she’d have to hang up the sign –Everything Vintage– the way all the stallholders labelled their stalls. Jasper had made it a prerequisite of having a stall here – permanent traders and temporary alike. He said it made the markets feel like more of a village and a place where customers could mill and easily see what was on offer.
Morgan, ready to dump the last box and deal with the sign, got to the stall but there was a man with his back to her already standing behind one of the tables. Pedro must’ve been called away by his wife who wanted his help and roped someone else in to keep a look out. She was about to thank whoever it was and put the last of her boxes on the side where he was standing – she’d thought she’d put all of the boxes there, arrange the closest table display first before doing the second table where he was – when the man lifted a wooden item from a box that wasn’t hers and set it down on the second table.
‘What are you doing?’ Her question was out before recognition dawned. ‘Nate?’ She looked at the beautifully crafted wooden box he’d set down. An attractive piece, it had a latticed top, but rather than taking the time to admire it, she was puzzled.
‘Morgan, hey.’ He looked pleased to see her, much like he’d looked yesterday. She half expected to see Branston trot out from somewhere, he looked so at home. ‘Good to see you again.’
‘Likewise.’ Her brow creased, however, as she stood in the gap between the two tables that allowed whoever was working the stall to get to the back. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I’m not sure I follow.’
‘This is kind of my stall,’ she said awkwardly. ‘Well, not kind of,’ she stumbled, ‘it is my market stall.’
‘I think you must be confused. This is my stall today…’ But he stopped before he set down the wooden tea caddy he’d unloaded. ‘Wait… this is stall number one, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it’s number one.’ Why did he have to look attractive, even in a confrontation? She was perfectly capable of standing up for herself but something about him made her want to be nice. Perhaps it was because he’d been so kind to her when they first met.
‘Then my booking is correct,’ he said, pulling a face suggesting he felt bad that she was the one who’d obviously made the mistake.
She looked around. ‘Let me find Jasper; he’ll sort this out.’ And she’d feel less terrible if Jasper was the one to tell him to pack up all his things again and relocate.
Eyes as dark brown as his hair danced as he flashed her a smile that she wished wasn’t quite so powerful. ‘Good idea.’
She tried not to watch the tendons flex in his forearms as he lifted out another item – this time a set of chunky wooden chopping boards with rope handles. And unlike Morgan, who gave a little shiver at the breeze that licked through the markets at this early hour, he didn’t seem to feel a chill at all in a maroon t-shirt he wore with faded Levi’s.
‘I can’t see him but I’m sure he’ll be along in a minute,’ she said after standing on tiptoes with no success at locating the market manager. He was usually pretty easy to find, buzzing around constantly, making sure all his stallholders were happy.
Nate hooked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the car park. ‘I’ll go back and get some more of my things while I wait.’
‘Sure.’ But what was the point if he was just going to have to move? She didn’t voice her concern; instead, she asked anyone who came past where Jasper was. He’d sort this out quick enough. Pitch number one was to be hers for as long as she needed it. It had been Elaina’s for years, week in, week out. Every Saturday.
Nate had only just returned when Jasper came racing over. He looked panic-stricken. But before he could say anything, Nate was doing the firm handshake. And Jasper looked pretty taken with the newcomer; he was Jasper’s type, as tall as his husband, who might not appreciate this interlude, and with a presence and a body that could likely fetch a princely sum if he tried to sell it at the market instead of anything else.
Morgan shook away that thought. ‘I was explaining to Nate here that this is my stall; for some reason he thinks it’s his.’
‘For the next four weeks,’ Nate put in.
Jasper took a deep breath. ‘I messed up, big time.’ A hand on his brow, he grumbled, ‘I meant to cancel you.’
‘Me?’ they asked at the same time.
‘This stall has always been Elaina’s,’ Jasper, flustered, told Nate.
‘And now I’m here instead,’ Morgan explained.
‘I booked and prepaid last week.’ Nate didn’t seem any more than slightly rattled and she doubted he was going to back down easily.
Morgan had banked on this being smooth sailing this morning and after a few weeks, she’d be all done, the house would be clear, she’d be ready to get her head around what came next. And now this was happening.
Jasper, on checking his phone, swore and then swiftly apologised for his language. ‘I can only say how very sorry I am again.’ He was looking at Nate. ‘When Morgan said she wanted to trade today, I immediately said yes… I tried to cancel you but the email is still sitting in my outbox; it never went.’ If it was possible on this mild early morning, he was starting to sweat. ‘Oh, this is entirely my fault.’ He pushed his glasses up his nose after they slipped down again. ‘Nate, is there any way you’d consider leaving the market for today and coming back next week when I’ll have a smaller stall available?’ He pointed out the stall it was most likely to be.
‘I have rather a lot to sell,’ Nate explained. ‘And I need to do it in a timeframe, kind of why I booked today.’ A muscle in his jaw twitched. ‘The other stall is tiny and I’d rather sell everything quickly; I’m not in the village for long.’
