“Welcome home, Ranger,” he said softly, turning the key.
The truck rumbled to life, and together they headed toward Haywood Lake.
CHAPTER 6
Mia stoodin the barn kitchen staring at a recipe as if it held the secrets of the universe. Right now, it mostly mocked her. The morning couldn’t have started worse. Not only had her dad’s physical therapist canceled, but he was cranky after having fallen during the night. He was okay, thank God, but she had been up all night worrying about him. There was a small bruise on his hip and a scrape on his knee, but other than that, he was okay. But her nerves were shot. So was her patience.
Later today she was catering an engagement party at a client’s house, which meant prepping dozens of appetizers and mini desserts before she even set foot outside her kitchen. Trays of maple-glazed bacon-wrapped dates were cooling on the counter, their sweet-smoky scent filling the air. Alongside them was a platter of roasted shrimp crostini, and another filled with tomato jam and mascarpone tartlets waited nearby. You just couldn’t go wrong with a savory tomato jam topped with whipped mascarpone and a drizzle of honey-balsamic glaze. The mini puff-pastry tarts with goat cheese and caramelized onions were almost ready to plate.
However, the delivery of lobsters that was supposed to be there at 8a.m. sharp hadn’t shown up. When she called, thesupplier breezily informed her the order had been canceled. No explanation. No apology.
Canceled? Seriously? Of all days?
She had also planned time to swing by Will’s farm for fresh dill, edible flowers and microgreens. That is, if the van started. She still hadn’t gotten around to getting the battery checked. Regardless, that would be a couple of hundred dollars she didn’t have right now. Every delay came with a price tag lately.
Mia closed her eyes and exhaled. One step at a time. She couldn’t think too far ahead or she’d freeze. She called the client, explained the situation and got permission to substitute crab for the lobster. A small hit to her profit, but still. Pride didn’t pay invoices.
She still needed to hire a couple of servers for an event on Saturday night since two of her regulars were unavailable. And that was assuming nothing else fell apart between now and then.
She glanced at her watch. Okay, she had two hours to get to Will’s, swing by the seafood market and get back in time to finish the hors d’oeuvres. Thankfully, the desserts were done and most of the appetizers prepared. At least something had gone right.
The van started on the third try, and she was on her way. She didn’t breathe easy until she hit the main road. She gripped the wheel and headed toward Sweet Water Organics. The drive wound past fields of wildflowers and grazing cattle. A pretty sight on most days but not today.
She pulled into the gravel lot, taking in the white farmhouse with its wide front porch and several wooden rocking chairs scattered around. She drove farther in, parking near the greenhouses and the big red barn. Behind it were rows of citrus trees and herb beds, neat and thriving, unlike her morning.
Will stood just inside the open doors with a tall, dark-haired woman in a striped apron.
She parked the truck and stepped out. The scent of roasted fruit and herbs filled the air.
“Mia!” Will called out. “You’re just in time for a sample.”
The woman turned and smiled. “Sabrina Masters,” she said, offering her hand. “Savory Designs.”
Mia shook her hand and introduced herself. “Mia Whitmore. Plated Perfection.” She kept her grip friendly even though Sabrina’s handshake told her that she wasn’t worried about competition. Bold move, considering Mia held her own in New York City.
“Sabrina and I are testing some recipes for the next farm-to-table dinner,” said Will.
Her ego took a tiny blow. She’d been one of the most requested caterers in the city, and here in Haywood Lake she was finally rebuilding that momentum. She’d hoped Will might loop her in again this year, but Sabrina looked like the kind of woman who got invited automatically, no questions asked.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you’d already started planning.”
“Just brainstorming,” Will said quickly. “You know how it goes.”
Sure. Mia knew exactly how it went. Sometimes brainstorming meant you were part of the conversation. Sometimes they forgot to call the woman who built a following in New York and half of Haywood Lake. Sometimes you just had to stand there pretending it didn’t hurt. But coming home to take care of her father had been her choice, and she didn’t regret it. Mostly.
Sabrina gestured to the board in front of her. “Roasted peach crostini with prosciutto and rosemary honey. Want to try one?”
“They look beautiful,” said Mia. “But I’m here for some microgreens, edible flowers and dill.” She glanced at Will. “If you have them.”
Will winced before he smoothed it away. The kind of look that told her he already knew the answer and wished he didn’t.
“Well, let’s go look,” he said. “Although Sabrina cleaned me out this morning, there might be something you can use.”
Mia’s stomach dropped, but she forced a smile. “Guess I should’ve gotten here sooner.”
“Sorry,” Will said, rubbing the back of his neck. “If you’d called…” His voice trailed off.
Yeah, yeah. She knew. If she weren’t so stressed about everything, this wouldn’t have happened. It hadn’t ever in New York City, but things here just weren’t the same. Here, her life wasn’t built around ambition; it was built around care. And some days that cost her more than she liked admitting.
