The Bachelor Baker Page 9

  His casual words created a swirl of varied emotions: surprise that he had thought of potential income for the bakery and, behind that, shock that Miss Coraline and Dale Eversleigh were right about Brian.

  And she was wrong.

  “Do you think I could sell enough?” she asked, practicality tamping down the possibilities.

  Brian shrugged. “Abby seemed to think so.”

  Melissa bit her lip, her mind suddenly churning. “How would this work? How would we find the time for doing all that?”

  “The farmer’s markets run on Saturdays. We could do Concordia one week and see how it goes. We could bake enough on Friday so you don’t have to on Saturday. Let Amanda run the store on Saturday. If it works out, after Gracie Wilson’s wedding is out of the way, we could look at doing it every week.”

  We could, he had said. “Do you figure on coming along?” she blurted out.

  “I could, if you want me to,” he said as the timer dinged. “So now what?”

  She instructed Brian how to cut the dough into pieces and drop them into the kneading machine. When the dough was done, he mixed up another batch while Melissa got the baking pans ready. Brian protested, but she told him she was feeling better.

  Which she was. Having Brian helping made her feel as if she could, at least for today, lay down a burden she’d hauled around since starting this bakery. She had been on her own, doing it all, carrying it all since she came to Bygones and even before. Having him around this morning was probably a one-off, but for today, it was good. Today, in spite of the misgivings dogging her every time she got close to a man, today his presence made her soul feel blessed.

  “So do you really think that could work?” Melissa asked as she dropped the kneaded rolls of bread into the baking pans. “The farmer’s market thing?”

  “It’s worth a try,” Brian said, dumping another huge container of flour into the mixer. “You obviously can make more than the local townspeople can buy. It would definitely get your name out into the other towns.”

  “So what would we sell there?” Melissa asked, getting the next pans ready, her hand working automatically as the bread dough dropped into the kneader, was flattened, then rolled into bread loaves.

  As they talked, the tension shadowing her and Brian’s relationship seemed to have eased away with the icing and cake that had been liberally spread over the bakery yesterday.

  They discussed some of the items Brian thought would sell and what Melissa thought would be easy to make as they moved from making bread to buns. With each plan Melissa grew more hopeful about the future of the bakery.

  “Are we done for now?” Brian asked as he wheeled the last rack of bread pans into the large metal-lined room that held a small heater to help the bread rise.

  Melissa glanced at the clock, surprised to see how early it still was. “The first batch doesn’t need to go in for half an hour.”

  “Great. Let’s write down some of the things we talked about,” Brian said.

  His involvement surprised her. She was tempted to ask him why this mattered now when he’d been such a reluctant employee before, but then she thought of something Miss Coraline had told her.

  Get Brian involved in the decision-making process and maybe he would be more invested in the bakery’s success.

  They walked together to her little office, and as she sat down, Brian came in behind her. Once again she was aware of how tall he was, how broad his shoulders. How he filled up the space. And as they made their plans, it was if her senses were heightened around him, creating another kind of tension. He was so...vitally present in her office. It thrilled her a little and scared her a little.

  “So how are you feeling now?” Brian asked after they finished the list, leaning back against the desk behind him, his arms folded over his chest.

  “Not as sick as a few hours ago.”

  “You still look washed out,” he said. “You sure you don’t want to go home for a bit? Lie down?”

  Again, his concern created a shift in the atmosphere. She looked up and their gazes locked.

  A hint of a smile edged his well-shaped lips, softening his strong features. Then he reached out and touched her face. His rough fingers slid over her skin, igniting a flicker of anticipation. Then he plucked something out of her hair and held it out for her inspection.

  A bit of cake.

  “You must have been tired last night,” he said, wiping it off on his apron as he grinned at her.

  “I was,” she admitted with a light laugh, checking her hair in case she had missed something else. “Still am.”

  “I’m not surprised. You put in long days.” He tilted his head to one side as if studying her. “Did you know it would be like this?” he asked. “This much work?”

  Melissa pondered that question, then shook her head. “I knew it would be hard, but I never realized how much responsibility it would be. I guess that’s part of running your own business.” She held his steady gaze. “Did you know what you wanted to get into? When you were thinking of starting up your own mechanic business?”

  Brian shrugged. “I had a good idea. I had been doing mechanic work in the evenings and weekends for a couple of years before I applied for a loan. But I guess God has another plan now that my tools are gone,” he said.

  She frowned at him. “I didn’t think someone as big and tough looking as you would be the type that depended on God.”

  “I’ve depended on God in every part of my life,” he said, speaking quietly but with conviction. “From when I was a kid I was told this world belongs to God and that I am to use what I’ve been given to serve Him and love Him. It was how my parents and grandparents raised me and my sisters.”

  Melissa felt a flicker of envy at his sincerity. “That’s remarkable and comforting,” she said. “To have that legacy of faith.”

  “I take it your family didn’t?”

  “I was raised by a single mother who taught me that the only person to take care of me was me. God or Jesus didn’t figure much in my mother’s life.”

  Brian released a light laugh. “Taking care of yourself is good in theory, but I think we’re people made for relationships. We exist in a web of them—family, community, God.”

  “Are your parents part of that web?”

  Brian’s smile faded. “They were. They died...a few years ago.” The words were ragged and harsh and sorrow unfurled in Melissa’s heart.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that. I didn’t know.”

  “How could you?” he said quietly. “You’re still new here.”

  At one time him saying that might have made her feel defensive, but she realized it was her reality. “I’m still sorry. That must have been hard for you.”

  “I’m thankful God gave me and my sisters strength to deal with it. My grandfather reminds me regularly that control is an illusion.”

  His words teased out an old memory of a minister preaching about letting go of control of one’s life. The words had seemed ironic to Melissa because then she had had so little control and her mother had so much. They moved around from place to place on her mother’s whims. Melissa had learned early on that she had to take care of herself.

  But in spite of her constant reminder to stay independent, the memory of what that minister said grew, whispering around the edges of her mind and holding a promise of peace and rest. She blinked, but the feeling didn’t dissipate. In fact, as she held Brian’s sincere gaze it grew and called louder.

  “You’re blessed to have a grandfather,” Melissa said, trying to ignore the words that created such a yearning in her. “I’m jealous of that. I never knew my father and my mother was an only child.”

  “Did you know any of your family?”

  “I remember my grandmother. We lived with her for about six months. She took me to c
hurch.”

  “Did you enjoy it? Church?”

  His question created a thrum of melancholy as the thoughts she had struggled to dampen now assaulted her. She was reminded of a relationship with God tentatively begun as a teenager. “I did.”

  “Would you go again?”

  Melissa weighed that thought. “I don’t imagine God wants someone who spent some time with Him when it was convenient and then ignored Him when it wasn’t.”

  Brian chuckled and again Melissa was surprised at her reaction to his genuine smile. “God’s shoulders are broad. I think He’d be pleased if you spent time with Him again, like any parent would. Going to church would be a good start.”

  Melissa held that thought close as it ignited a surprising warmth in her. “I’d like to think about it. Maybe.” It was all she could give him.

  Then the timer went off and Brian pushed himself away from the desk to get to the next job. Melissa moved to get up but a wave of dizziness washed over her.

  “You stay right here.” Brian laid his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her down. “I’ll take care of the bread.”

  “You need to know how to space the loaves in the oven. They have to be put in properly so they brown evenly.” Melissa tried to get up again.

  “Okay. You can tell me that, but you’re doing it sitting down. In that white chair I got for you,” Brian said firmly. Then, to her utter amazement, he helped her up, slipped her arm in his and walked with her to the other chair. As he sat her down, her hair slipped over her face. He reached up and tucked it behind her ear. Then he gave her a careful smile.

  As their eyes held something stirred in her chest—the beginnings of affection for this man and his surprising solicitude.

  Did she dare?

  The only person to take care of you is you.

  Her mother’s voice, her constant companion as Melissa had navigated the pain of Jason breaking up with her and abandoning her, returned, reminding her to be careful.

  But being the only person to take care of me is exhausting, Melissa thought as she watched Brian wheel the cart holding the risen bread to the oven, then place the bread on the revolving racks inside.

  Sometimes she wanted to have someone she could depend on. Someone stronger than her who could hold her up.

  She just wasn’t sure who that person could be.

  Then Brian shot her a smile and again she felt a surprising connection so ethereal and vague she wasn’t sure she could pinpoint what it was or how it began.

  All she knew for certain was that it gave her some curious comfort she wasn’t sure what to do with. Wasn’t sure she dared embrace. Opening herself up to that connection meant letting someone else in her life. It meant letting someone else determine the course of her life.

  Did she dare do that again?

  Chapter Eight

  “I thought we could set up the food buffet with the buns and coffee here,” Mrs. Morgan said, waving an imperious hand toward the west wall of the basement of the church. She came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the room, a frown creasing her forehead as she looked up at the ceiling. “Though we need to do something about those horrible exposed pipes.”

  Not my department, Melissa thought, keeping her eyes rigidly focused on the piece of paper with the list of items Mrs. Morgan had requested for the buffet.

  Yesterday, after Amanda came to work, Brian had insisted Melissa go back to her apartment and get some rest. She did, and to her surprise, she had fallen asleep as soon as she dropped onto her bed. A few hours later when she returned to the bakery she announced to Brian and Amanda that she felt much better and told Brian she didn’t need his help the next morning. She had felt the beginnings of emotions that scared her. It was better that she and Brian keep their distance.

  However, this morning Brian was waiting at the back door of the bakery, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, sleeves rolled up in spite of the cool morning air. He was whistling the same song he’d been whistling yesterday.

  Melissa went through the motions of protesting his help, but Brian ignored her. She did feel better this morning and having Brian around had, once again, created curious feelings.

  He hadn’t even protested much when Melissa gave him a list of things she wanted him to do at the bakery this morning so she could make this meeting with Mrs. Morgan and Josh.

  “Melissa, are you making note of this?” Mrs. Morgan asked.

  As Melissa glanced Mrs. Morgan’s way, she heard a muffled chuckle and didn’t dare look over at Josh, who stood beside her, his hands in his pockets and obviously not taking note of the problem of the exposed pipes either.

  “No matter—maybe we can dress them up with tulle,” Mrs. Morgan said. “What do you think, Gracie?”

  Melissa looked up in time to see Gracie shoot Melissa a pleading glance. Then Melissa heard the click and the creak of a door opening upstairs.

  “I think I hear Lily,” Melissa said, granting Gracie a momentary reprieve. “I know she wanted to go over placement of the flower arrangements with you, Gracie.”

  Gracie shot Melissa a thankful look, then fled upstairs. But the solution was only momentary as Mrs. Morgan turned to Josh and Melissa, raising one finger. “Excuse me a moment. I should talk to Lily, too.” Then she swept out of the basement and up the stairs.

  Melissa stifled a sigh, scribbled a few notes on her clipboard and glanced over at Josh, who was watching Mrs. Morgan go, an enigmatic look on his face.

  “So what did you think of the meeting Tuesday night?” Melissa asked.

  Josh turned his attention back to her, then granted her a crooked smile. “I thought it went well. Miss Coraline is certainly a cheerleader for the town. Have you come up with any ideas since then?”

  “Yesterday morning Brian suggested I consider taking baked goods to the farmer’s market in Concordia next Saturday and, possibly, Junction City a couple of weeks later.”

  Josh nodded, stroking his chin with his long fingers, as if thinking. “I’m surprised.”

  “You don’t think it’s a good idea?”

  “I think it’s a great idea. I’m surprised he’s making suggestions considering how negative he was about your business at the grand opening last month.”

  Melissa couldn’t help a faint frisson of concern. She agreed that Brian’s change was a bit abrupt, but at the same time she felt that things had changed between them in other, uncertain ways. She wasn’t sure what to think of it all—only that she was seeing a side of Brian that appealed to her.

  “He’s been helping me with the baking.”

  Josh’s eyebrows shot up into his dark hair. “Really? I wonder what made him change that much.”

  Melissa tried not to blush as her mind ticked back to the cake fight. She knew she could pinpoint the change in him at that moment.

  And the change in her.

  Then Josh grinned. “Okay. I think I know what’s going on.”

  “Nothing’s going on.” The flush warming her cheeks belied her protest. “Never mind,” she said, about to leave, her own emotions growing increasingly unsure when Josh caught her lightly by the arm.

  “Sorry. I won’t tease you anymore. Don’t go yet. I was hoping I would have a chance to talk some business with you.”

  Melissa stopped and simply nodded, still feeling self-conscious about her reaction to Josh’s teasing.

  “When Coraline was talking about initiatives for growing the business I thought of something. What would you say if you supplied my coffee shop with your sausage rolls, croissants, Danish pastries and some loaf cakes and gave me an exclusive on those items?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You would sell them to me and I could offer them to my customers along with their coffee. It would give you another outlet
for your baked goods and give me value-added service for my shop.” He held up a finger. “But, like I said, I would get an exclusive, so if someone wants, let’s say, a cranberry scone, they can only get them at my coffee shop—not at my coffee shop and your bakery.”

  Melissa thought about this a moment, then nodded. “I think that could work.”

  “Great. I need to boost business and I know many people buy food at your bakery and come to my coffee shop to eat it.” Josh spread his arms out. “I would be doing them a community service and saving them a few steps.”

  “Why don’t you come over to the bakery next week and we can put together a list of items you could carry?”

  “Great. Thanks a bunch for this, Melissa. You really helped me out.”

  “Hey, us newcomers have to stick together,” Melissa said.

  “Yeah. I hear ya. Every day I get the gears from yet another old-timer who can’t believe what I charge for a cup of coffee.”

  “I get the same thing about my tarts and cakes.”

  “Guess it will take time.” Josh grinned and was about to say more when they heard the clatter of footsteps on the stairs. Gracie flew around the corner, her head down and her hand covering her face.

  “Gracie. Are you okay?” Melissa hurried to her side, shocked to see tears on the young girl’s cheeks.

  Gracie blinked, then dashed the back of her hand across her eyes. “Sorry. I’m just...I don’t know...it’s too much...I don’t think...”

  “You’re just suffering from pre-wedding jitters,” Melissa assured her. “It’ll be okay.”

  “Will it?” Gracie asked, then shot an anguished look behind her as Mrs. Morgan called out Gracie’s name.

  Gracie caught Melissa by the arm. “Tell her I got sick,” she said, then flew out the other door and up the back stairs.

  Mrs. Morgan appeared as the door on the opposite side of the room fell shut behind Gracie. She looked around, her lips pinched together. “Where is that girl? We’re not done here.”