Page 12 of The Cinnamon Spice Inn (Maple Falls #1)

NINE

MADISON

Madison waited until there was a break in customers before heading back to the bakery counter. “Hey, Emily, when you get a minute, can you box up a dozen of your danishes and muffins? They’re for the guests at the inn.” The two that remain , Madison added to herself.

“Sure, I have some coming fresh out of the oven. Give me about fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks, Em. You’re a lifesaver.” Madison smiled. It felt so natural somehow, back here in the bakery, talking to her oldest friend. Like the years they’d been apart just didn’t matter.

“I meant to ask, who’s your new chef? I heard Maurice retired,” Emily said while refilling the drip coffee pot. She offered free refills on her house blend, and several regulars took her up on it, sitting eating cookies, drinking coffee, and gossiping for hours.

“That’s just it—my dad hasn’t hired anyone,” Madison confessed.

Emily’s eyes widened. “But your dad can’t cook.” She clapped a hand over her mouth as if she couldn’t believe she had just blurted that out.

Madison laughed. “I know!”

“It’s just… I remember all the sleepovers we used to have. Your mom always did the cooking because your dad…” Emily hesitated, struggling to find the right words.

“It’s okay, you can say it—my dad can’t even boil water. You should’ve seen the kitchen this morning. There was smoke coming out of the toaster.”

Emily winced.

“I know I obviously need to hire someone, but I’m not even sure where to start.” If Madison were back in New York, she’d have a dozen chefs ready to jump in and help, but her contact list in Maple Falls was nonexistent. “Maybe we could do a daily pastry order until I can figure something out?”

Emily snapped her fingers in excitement. “I know someone you have to talk to. She’s a bit crazy… but in a good way,” she added quickly when she saw Madison’s skeptical expression. “Like, in a culinary genius sort of way,” she clarified.

“Uh-huh,” Madison said, unconvinced there was anyone in Maple Falls who could fill Maurice’s shoes.

“You know Norma Steigler?”

“Norma Steigler, the seamstress?” Madison thought back to the old lady who walked around town with a pincushion always strapped to her wrist.

“Yes, that’s her. Her great-niece just moved into town.

She finished culinary school out west not too long ago, but she wasn’t having much luck landing a job.

Norma offered for her to stay here for a while and save up before trying her luck in the Big Apple.

Anyway, I had her fill in here at the bakery a time or two, and she’s a genius.

Her flavor combinations are out of this world.

I wish I had more work for her, but I just don’t.

I honestly think she’d be perfect for the inn. Here, let me give you her number.”

Madison pulled out her phone, and Emily AirDropped the chef’s contact information.

“Kit Riker,” Madison read aloud.

“Call her. You won’t regret it. Tell her you and I go way back, and I’m sure she’ll jump at the chance.”

Madison thanked Emily again and went back to her table to wait for the pastries.

“Ms. Madison, it is so good to see you, honey.” Madison looked up to see Mrs. Bishop walking over.

The petite older woman wore a deep plum cardigan with tiny, embroidered pumpkins at the hem.

She had a matching one on her turtleneck and pumpkin earrings dangling from her ears.

It was as if she’d been waiting all year for the season to arrive.

Her friend Mrs. C., short for Copplehagen, fell into step beside her, ever the leader between the two.

Where Mrs. Bishop dithered, Mrs. C. had the sharp, no-nonsense authority of a retired librarian, capable of silencing an entire room with a single arched brow.

Today, her gaze was just as assessing, though there was warmth in it, too.

“Welcome back,” Mrs. C. said with an assessing head nod. “Your mama would be so proud you’re helping your dad.” She took a measured sip of coffee, her expression unreadable.

Madison barely had a chance to respond before Mrs. Bishop spoke up again, her tone shifting. “And we can expect to see you at the Pumpkinfest committee meeting, can’t we?”

Madison blinked, caught off guard. “The… Pumpkinfest committee?”

Mrs. C. let out a long-suffering sigh. “Your father has missed the last two meetings, and we don’t want another scene like last year.”

At this, the two women exchanged a knowing look over their coffee cups.

Madison had absolutely no idea what they were referring to, but she also wasn’t sure she wanted to ask. “Of course,” she said, plastering on a fake smile. “I’ll be there. Just tell me where and when.”

“Good.” Mrs. C. nodded approvingly, already reaching into her bag to retrieve what Madison was certain would be a notebook filled with meticulously outlined festival plans. “It’s at Anita’s café tomorrow at eleven o’clock.”

Madison opened and closed her mouth, not sure what she was going to say.

She hadn’t planned on running into Anita if she could help it.

Zach’s mom and hers had been best friends.

There had been a time when Madison couldn’t walk into Anita’s café without getting wrapped in one of Anita’s tight hugs or hearing stories about how proud her mom was of her.

She hadn’t seen Anita since her mother’s funeral, and it was one reunion Madison wasn’t ready for.

Madison barely had a chance to respond before Mrs. Bishop added, “Have you seen Zach yet? He’s such a good boy. He’s remodeling my kitchen!”

At that comment, a young woman’s ears two tables over perked up. Madison didn’t know who she was, but she seemed interested in any conversation that revolved around Zach. Madison tried to ignore her and turned her attention back toward the older ladies, who kept right on talking.

“It’ll never get done if you don’t make up your mind,” Mrs. C. chimed in, giving Mrs. Bishop a condescending look.

“It’s a big investment. Can’t go making the wrong choices, now can I?” Mrs. Bishop looked to Madison for support.

Madison took a careful sip of her coffee, working on keeping her expression neutral. She barely registered the sweetness of the vanilla and warm cinnamon, watching the two women bicker.

“She has the poor boy repainting her kitchen every five minutes.” Mrs. C. hooked her thumb in Mrs. Bishop’s direction.

“Now, it’s not every five minutes. It’s only been twice… Might be a third time, but that’s it! These things are important,” Mrs. Bishop pleaded.

“Well, if you get tired of yanking him around, send him my way. I have a busted cupboard I need fixed,” Mrs. C. said with a nod.

“Didn’t he just fix your cupboard?” Mrs. Bishop asked.

“No, that was a shelf I needed hanging. He wouldn’t accept a cent, either. I had to pay him in cookies! I made the good kind, too, double chocolate chip,” Mrs. C. added.

Madison forced a smile, though her stomach dipped. That sounded exactly like Zach. He preferred his own company and could come across as grumpy, but he was always there for anyone who needed him.

The younger woman, two tables over, sighed. “It’s too bad he never seems interested in dating.”

Madison coughed, her coffee going down the wrong way. “Sorry,” she replied as her eyes watered. She looked away and cleared her throat.

Mrs. C. leaned forward, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, you were always the only girl for him, Madison.” She winked.

Madison froze, fingers tightening around her coffee cup.

She could feel the heat creeping up her neck, and it had nothing to do with the coffee.

She forced out a light laugh, but even she could hear the slight edge to it.

“I highly doubt that.” If Madison’s memory served her right, Zach had no problem striking things up with women, especially when his girlfriend was away in New York City.

The younger woman’s ears perked up. “You and Zach?” She suddenly studied Madison with newfound interest.

Madison wasn’t sure what to say or how much to reveal. Thankfully, she didn’t have to say anything at all.

“Oh, those two lovebirds go way back,” Mrs. Bishop declared. “I lost fifty bucks when you left town. I thought for sure you two would end up walking down the aisle.”

Madison’s polite smile faltered for a second before she caught herself.

She shifted her weight, trying to shake the sudden feeling of being on display. “I’m sorry to disappoint,” she said with a practiced smile. She needed to change the subject, but her mind refused to cooperate, spinning in place instead.

“It’s okay. I won that plus some in bingo a week later. It all worked out in the end!” Mrs. Bishop declared. The ladies chuckled, sipping their coffee as if they hadn’t just casually thrown Madison’s love life under the town microscope.

“Glad it all worked out,” Madison said briskly, standing and taking a step back from the table.

“It’s been lovely to chat with you, really, but I should…

Uh, I have a couple more errands to run.

Nice to meet you,” she added to the younger woman.

Madison waved goodbye and popped back up to the bakery counter.

“I’m just going to step out. I’ll come back for the pastries soon,” she told Emily.

“Perfect. I’ll have them here and waiting. And don’t forget to call Kit!”

“Don’t worry. I won’t!” Madison called over her shoulder before escaping out the front door.

But even once outside, thoughts of Zach refused to leave her alone. His flannel shirt clinging to his broad shoulders. His hands gripping her waist.

It was a sinfully delicious fantasy. It was also never going to happen.

She just hoped he couldn’t read her mind.