Second Chance at the Orchard Inn, page 2
Cece grabbed her warm cinnamon roll with both hands and dove right in.
“See?” Aurora lifted an eyebrow at Beth. “Cece knows how to eat.”
Sawyer cracked up at the expression on Beth’s face.
“Okay, fine. Y’all go on, eating like heathens and judging me. But one of us won’t have to wash her face after breakfast. Just saying.”
They wrapped up breakfast and Aurora and Cece did indeed need to wash the tips of their noses.
Aurora washed her hands, popped two breakfast casseroles in the oven, and made another pot of coffee while her sisters finished getting ready.
“Why don’t you let me fix the fruit and put out the casserole while you and Cece go to the market?” Beth offered when she returned to the kitchen.
“Seriously?”
“Yes, I’m serious. I know you like to peruse the veggies and you should enjoy going before you leave town. Do you not want to go?”
“I didn’t say that, but—”
“Sawyer is here to help me. You’ve fixed breakfast. We can serve it. Plus, if you don’t go to the market early, all the good produce will be gone.”
This was true.
She could get in one last trip to the Saturday farmers’ market before it was time to buckle down and find the Orchard Inn its new chef and get ready to head west. Maybe she’d find some good corn, tomatoes, and okra. She could make an old-fashioned southern supper for her sisters and Sawyer. A family meal before their family had to split up, again.
Aurora shook her head. Her time in Texas was winding down and making her downright sentimental.
She was taking a trip to the market with Cece, not a walk down memory lane.
Chapter 2
Am I good?” Jude carefully made his way to the back of his pickup truck, attempting to see around the three boxes stacked in his arms.
“If by good you mean about to have an on-the-job injury, then yeah, you’re good.” His youngest sister, Bonnie, stopped him with a hand against the middle box. “I’m taking this top one.”
With the top box gone, Jude could see the giant pothole a couple of feet ahead. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Bonnie followed him to the back of his truck, and they loaded the boxes of dried lavender for the Saturday farmers’ market. They’d already loaded pallets of fresh, potted lavender, rosemary, and fennel, along with sprigs of thyme, sage, basil, and oregano. If they were lucky, they’d sell out of everything, same as last Saturday.
“I thought we were going to get this fixed.” Bonnie toed at the loose gravel and dirt around the pothole.
Jude swiped his brow with his bandanna. “I’m working on it. I made the mistake of trying to get Dad to sign off on paving at least the beginning of the driveway, up to the parking lot, instead of constantly filling in potholes with more dirt and gravel.”
Bonnie huffed a laugh. “How’d that go?”
“About as good as you’d expect.” Jude shook his head. “He’s not okay with spending the money for paving right now, so I’ll just fill these in myself next week.”
“But we’ve got the money to at least pave the driveway and make it nice. We’re busy and all the traffic—”
Jude moved one of the pallets in his truck bed, arranging the boxes so they were more secure. “You’re preaching to the choir, Bon. I told him exactly that. Folks don’t need to dodge potholes as they’re pulling into the farm. We get all these retail shoppers now. They don’t want to bump around in their Benzs and BMWs and pop a tire on their way to get their lavender and oregano.”
“Should I try talking to him?” Bonnie asked.
“You’re welcome to try.”
They walked back to the shop, using the part of the driveway nearest the store as their loading area so as not to take up any parking spots. The farm’s retail shop was bustling on a Saturday, and they tried to stay out of the way while preparing to go to the market.
Before they reached the store, Bonnie stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Is Dad going to the market with you?”
Jude considered his words before speaking. The last thing he wanted to do was stir up concern with his sister and have her going back to their mom and dad to inadvertently open a can of worms with his father knowing his children had been discussing his health and ability to work. Jude could just hear it now.
Jude is worried about Dad. Dad doesn’t go to the market anymore and his energy gives out so quickly, and Jude said he had heart palpitations the other day and…
“I don’t think so. Not today,” Jude said instead. “He’s going to stay here and help you and Mom and Meredith at the store.”
“Oh.” Lines formed between Bonnie’s eyebrows. “He’s not up to it, huh?”
Jude started walking. “I’m not getting into this again.”
“Maybe we should try talking to him about it.” Bonnie followed.
“We tried that. He got angry and didn’t talk to me for two days.”
“Maybe if Jenna talked to him.” Bonnie volunteered their middle sister, as if she had the magic wand that would make John Jones open up and discuss his vulnerability or admit any signs of weakness.
Jude stopped walking and turned to face Bonnie. “I think you need to accept that Dad isn’t the kind of person we can reason with, using things like logic and general concern, okay? Mom knows he needs to go back to the cardiologist, and she’s trying to get him to eat better. If anyone can get through to him, it’s her. I think the best thing me, you, and Jenna can do is leave it be. Unless you want him to ice you out for a few days, I suggest you let it go for now.”
Bonnie sighed and rolled her eyes. “I know, but…”
“It’s aggravating to ignore the obvious? Frustrating to not be able to speak freely about family issues?”
His sister nodded, looking deflated.
“I know.” He pulled her into a hug, hoping he could ease some of her worry. Their dad was a bullheaded man, but they loved him. It should be okay to say, “Hey, we want you to live a lot longer, and maybe you should do a few things to make sure that happens, because we love you and don’t want to lose you.” But that wasn’t what their dad heard when they showed concern. He heard some nonsense like he was failing as their patriarch and they wanted him out of the picture. “Listen”—Jude stepped back and met Bonnie’s gaze—“we’re in this together. We’ll figure something out when it comes to Dad, but let’s give it a few days. Let me at least get through the weekend in peace.”
“Fine.” She shrugged.
They began walking again.
“So just you and Jenna are running the booth today?”
“And Wyatt.” Jude included his one-year-old nephew in the staffing lineup.
“Oh, Wyatt. He’ll be a huge help.”
“Hey, he’s our salesman. Don’t underestimate the power of a cute baby when it comes to luring in customers. He gets them in the booth, and we sell our wares.”
Bonnie laughed as they made their way around to the back of the building to the workroom of the store.
“So, you going to be okay with Dad today?” Jude asked as they stopped inside the door.
“He’s not an invalid.”
“I know. I mean are you going to be okay—not getting annoyed with him?”
“I’ll be fine.” His sister closed her eyes and held out her hands as though she were meditating. “I’ll be the picture of inner peace and zen.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Hey.” Her eyes flew open. “Do you think she will be at the market today?”
Jude narrowed his gaze before walking away. “I don’t know who you mean, but no.”
Bonnie quickly followed. “Her sister Cece came by the booth last week. You don’t think she’ll bring Aurora along this week?”
He tried to focus on the last three boxes of lavender that he needed to load.
Aurora. His high school sweetheart. She of the golden hair, blue-green eyes, prettiest of smiles, sharpest of minds, and quickest of humors. Part of him would love to see her again, while the other part would rather twist an ankle in one of those potholes.
He’d broken her heart way back when, she’d run off and headed west, and there was a big, gaping hole where their relationship used to be. Friendship and love—now an empty space.
If he did see her again, what was he supposed to say?
Hey. Sorry about breaking your heart and being a selfish prick ten years ago. Friends now?
He’d like nothing more than to make peace with what they’d left unresolved. But how?
Aurora Shipley hated him, no doubt. The last thing she’d want to do is swing by the Jones’s farm tent and browse their lavender and herbs.
“Hello.” Bonnie waved her hand in front of his face. “I said, now that she’s back in town, you don’t think Aurora will ever drop by?”
Jude met Bonnie’s gaze before hoisting up the three boxes of lavender. “No, I do not.”
Perhaps he should prepare himself in case she did.
How was he supposed to do that exactly? He counted the end of their relationship as one of his biggest regrets. Sure, he was just a silly teenage boy at the time, but regardless, Jude had always held himself to a higher standard. He should’ve handled things better, been better.
He hoisted the last three boxes in his arms and made his way out the store. If he did run into Aurora Shipley, he had no idea what he could say to fix the past. Still, the more he thought about it, the more he realized he wanted to see her again. He wanted to say the things he couldn’t all those years ago, and maybe finally make things right.
Chapter 3
Aurora drove them into town. She and Cece debated—some might say bickered—about who would take the wheel. Cece, in typical fierce independence, insisted she should, but Aurora won on principle. Her car was still in L.A., so she hadn’t gotten to drive anywhere lately.
A bribery of blueberry scones from the Great Bakery booth had also helped Aurora extract the keys.
As she drove, the winding rural roads turned into the wide streets of the residential area near downtown. The streets were shaded by the trees lining both sides, and they passed in and out of light, as if playing hide-and-seek with the sun.
Closer into town, the streets became more commercial, with the stone and brick buildings of business, retail, and gift shops. Restaurants. The settling of Fredericksburg by German immigrants showed up in flags on storefronts, the variety of German restaurants and bakeries, and the architecture of the landmarks and churches.
People strolled the sidewalks, milling about in common spaces and outside shops.
“Take a left up here and park behind the fabric store. You won’t find any parking closer to the market, and they close down part of Main Street on Saturdays, so pedestrians don’t have to worry about the cars.”
Aurora did as she was told and parked behind Cece’s favorite store. They took a ten-minute detour so Cece could pop in and see if they’d gotten any new fabric since the day before yesterday.
They had not.
“Nothing yet,” Cece declared, leaving the store as she hitched her bag of reusable bags higher on her shoulder. “I keep hoping they’ll get some bolts of autumn-like fabric. Something with orange and yellow. I want to make new pillows for the seats in the gazebo. Freshen it up for when fall comes.”
“That would be pretty.”
“Maybe get some pumpkins out there. Decorate it a little for photo ops and stuff.”
Fall was Cece’s favorite season. Like most addicted hikers, she was drawn outdoors by the changing leaves and cooler temperatures.
Of course, in Texas, it took a little longer for said cooler temperatures to show up.
Today, even before noon, it felt like they were living on the sun.
Aurora grabbed one of the fashionable ties off her wrist and twisted her long hair up into a messy bun.
“People are all about the photo ops and videos now,” Cece continued. “Between Instagram, TikTok, Snapchat, YouTube, and whatever comes next, we need places where guests will want to take cute vids and pics, and post them. It’s free advertising, really.”
Cece wasn’t wrong, that was for sure. Aurora wasn’t a huge social media fan herself, but she was guilty of watching a few travel and foodie YouTube channels.
“That’s actually a brilliant idea, Cece.”
“I know. I’m full of them.” She smiled as they walked toward the market, the live music slowly growing louder. “Like, we need to do more with our branding. We have an IG account, but I’m the only one who posts. You need to start posting images of your food.”
“We post a lot of the wedding food.”
“No.” Cece shook her head and whipped out her phone. “I’m talking about the stuff you cook outside of events. When you mess around, creating new recipes. Post them. See this account?” She held the screen up in Aurora’s face. “This lady cooks using only old-fashioned kitchen utensils and old-school methods. She has thousands of followers. You come up with incredible combinations and unique ideas, and you should post them. You’d help your branding and its content for the inn.”
“Branding and content for the— When did you become such a marketing genius?”
Cece tossed her hair good-naturedly. “Since forever. Plus, I haven’t been able to go hiking, so I’ve spent a lot of time online. I mean a lot of time.”
They reached the closure of Main Street and walked another block to the Marktplatz in the center of town. Tents circled the Vereins Kirche, the octagonal building in the center of the market, and dotted the green space around it.
Produce, baked goods, wildflowers, honey, spices, paintings, pottery, jewelry—you name it, someone probably had a booth for it at the farmers’ market. Originally, it’d begun as a true, produce-only market, but the popularity and draw for tourism over the years helped it grow into so much more.
Aurora first stopped at a booth with corn and summer squash. She picked up an ear and peeled back a corner of the husk to reveal the kernels beneath. Golden yellow and plump, the corn looked perfect. But did she really want to buy it now and haul corn around the market all morning?
“You could wait and come back to get some later,” Cece suggested.
Corn this pretty wouldn’t last until later though. The farm’s booth would sell out within the hour.
“No, I want to get it now and not risk losing out.”
“You’re going to make me carry sacks of corn around, aren’t you?”
“No.” Aurora began picking out the best ears of the bunch. “I’m going to make you help carry sacks of corn around. I’ll get two and you can just carry one.”
A few minutes later and they were both loaded up with two bags of corn each.
Aurora scored a deal by buying in bulk, and this was some of the prettiest corn she’d ever seen.
Better to have too much than not enough.
“I guess I could take these back to the car while you look around some, and I’ll just find you.”
“I don’t know, I quite enjoy being strapped down with produce like a pack mule,” Cece quipped.
“Ha ha, fine. Gimme.”
“Oh, wait though.” Cece hurried ahead to the next booth down.
Aurora glanced at the banner stretched across the top of the tent:
STONEWALL PEACH JAMBOREE & RODEO
And a sign on the table in the tent read, PIE-BAKING CONTEST.
Nope.
“C’mere.” Cece beckoned her into the tent. “They’re going to have a baking contest this year.”
“I see that. But I’m all good. Give me your corn. I’ll be right back.”
“You better get your butt in here right now or I’ll make a scene.”
She wasn’t bluffing either. No one could pitch a fit like the youngest of the three sisters.
Aurora dragged her feet into the tent.
“You should enter,” Cece stated, like Aurora would have no idea this was why they were in the booth.
“I’m not entering a pie contest,” she murmured.
Cece smiled at the lady behind the table before turning to Aurora. “Why not?” she asked through her teeth, without dropping the smile.
“You’re seriously disturbing when you do that.”
“Answer the question.”
“Because I don’t want to.”
“You’d win.”
“Cece.” Her sister was going to make her say it. Make her have the same conversation she’d already had with Beth earlier this morning.
“What?”
“I can’t enter. I probably won’t even be here when the contest happens.”
Cece’s face fell. “Oh.”
Aurora sighed, her corn-induced joy fading.
“I keep forgetting you have to leave.”
“I know. Let’s just enjoy the day, okay?”
Cece nodded, but a slight pout remained.
“Cece.”
“I’m fine. Really. Let’s enjoy the day. Here.” Cece took the bags from her shoulders and shoved them toward Aurora. “You take the corn and I’ll go get our blueberry scones. Just stay around here and I’ll be right back.”
“I thought I was buying the scones since you let me drive.”
“I changed my mind. You’re buying me lunch.” Cece grinned as she strolled away, leaving Aurora in her wake.
She smiled to herself, shaking her head.
No one made her laugh and smile as much as her sisters.
She didn’t have this dynamic with anyone she’d met in L.A., except for her roommate, Sloane. Not that she expected to bond with people the way she did with her sisters, but she had expected to meet more like-minded souls.
In truth, she’d found only Sloane and one of the guys who’d waited tables at the restaurant forever. They got her humor, and they were genuine, laidback sorts.
Genuine and laidback didn’t describe most of the hospitality scene in Los Angeles.
Aurora wandered over to the next booth.
More like pretentious and tense, she thought with a smirk. The staff wasn’t all bad, but so many of them were vying for the same thing. Everyone had their own agenda and looked out for themselves. She rarely let her guard down, because it could come back to bite you.
