Page 4 of The Cinnamon Spice Inn (Maple Falls #1)

FOUR

ZACH

That storm last night was a wild one , Zach thought as he assessed his farmhouse in the breaking daylight.

Zach didn’t think he’d been rash when he’d thrown his life savings into renovating his grandparents’ apple orchard and the house on it.

The place had sat vacant for a generation.

But if anyone could fix it up, it was him.

What he hadn’t counted on was last night’s storm frying the wiring and knocking out his power.

The entire house needed to be rewired.

Zach didn’t require much, but electricity sure as hell was useful.

He knew Madison must’ve been terrified last night, but he also knew she would never let it show. If she was mad enough seeing him, she would’ve been even madder if he’d asked if she was okay.

Living through a tornado did something to you, especially when you were a kid and had to take shelter while a twister tore up the ground around you.

Zach remembered it like it was yesterday. A perfect spring afternoon, the kind where you barely thought about storms because—well, there was always a chance of storms in the Midwest.

But that day there had been no tornado warning.

Later, that would matter. But in that moment, they were just kids on their bikes, riding the lake trail, when the sirens went off.

At first, they figured it was just a test. Until Zach remembered tests only happened on the first Saturday of the month at 1 p.m. And it wasn’t Saturday.

Within seconds, the sky turned an eerie green, and the winds picked up. They pedaled their bikes as fast as they could, heading for the 76 Station on the other side of the lake near the campground. Its orange and blue sign summoned them like a beacon.

They got inside just as the tornado touched down, ripping the roof off the convenience store and scattering chips and candy in the air like confetti. They hid behind the counter with Gary, the store owner, as he tried to keep them safe.

The sound was like a freight train barreling toward them.

They linked arms, covered their ears, and leaned against one another.

Zach would never forget the tears streaming down Madison’s face as he tried to calm her.

But it was pointless. The storm swallowed his words.

Madison trembled beside him, holding on tight, eyes squeezed shut.

Zach had been terrified, too. But afterward, the high of surviving it felt like nothing else.

The adrenaline rush had been out of this world.

Thankfully, the tornado only skipped across the lake, touching down at the convenience store and a cabin or two, flipping over pontoons and destroying a dock before disappearing into the sky.

But Maddie had been petrified of storms ever since.

Zach didn’t want to think about her, but he just couldn’t help himself.

Maddie. It was always Maddie.

Zach gritted his teeth and shook his head.

Last night, after he saw her standing there, wide-eyed and soaked from the rain, he told himself he was done, that she and George could find someone else to do the job.

He wasn’t about to get dragged back into whatever fresh hell Madison brought with her.

Been there, done that. And he had gotten burned for it, too.

But George had asked him and he couldn’t let him down.

He told himself it had nothing to do with the fact that last night, Madison had stirred something deep inside of him he could’ve sworn had been gone for years. Or the way she’d stared at him like she wasn’t sure what to say. Madison always knew what to say. She was decisive to a fault.

And it was nothing to do with the fact that despite every reason he had to stay away, he still hated the idea of her sitting in that inn with a busted roof.

No, it was because he owed it to Edith, Madison’s grandma, and George.

But Madison had dismissed him, hadn’t she? A flicker of irritation passed through him. Screw her and her stubbornness. He’d call George, tell him he was on his way.

First, he just needed a run to clear his head.

Zach took a quick, cold shower—another downside of losing power. At least it helped with his growing frustration. Madison had twisted up his usually laid-back self into a ball of tension. Made him think of things, want things, cravings that he’d buried a long time ago.

Not that he wanted to take a cold shower every day.

He could go to his mom’s for a few days. She’d been renting a small apartment around the corner from her café ever since he and his younger sister, Emily, had moved out.

Or his best friend, Liam, was an option, but he knew Zach too well. One look and he could read Zach’s mind. As he should, seeing as they’d been best friends since third grade. But there were some things Zach wanted to keep to himself. Like his feelings about a certain someone who was back in town.

His mom’s it was.

Mind made up, Zach gathered his tool belt and all of his equipment and loaded it in the back of his truck, along with a duffel bag.

Fifteen minutes later, Zach pulled into Water’s Edge Park, by Bear Lake.

The park was connected to the lake’s walking trail and housed two pavilions, a playground, and a set of public restrooms. It was the go-to spot for summer birthday parties, church potlucks, and family reunions.

It was also the home base for the Walleye Festival that would kick off in April, when fishermen would come from all over the state to try their luck at the spring walleye run.

Bear Lake wasn’t massive by any stretch of the imagination, but it had an outlet to the Silver Valley River, which meant a fresh stream of fish migration.

The sunrise glinted off the water, casting streaks of orange, pink, and gold across the surface. Wafts of mist rolled across the lake, low and thin, making only the tops of the trees on the other side visible—their branches ablaze in fiery reds and pumpkin-colored oranges.

The air had that familiar crispness to it, carrying the earthy sweet smell of fallen leaves and woodsmoke from the nearby campground. Somewhere above him, a loon called out, breaking the stillness, a sharp note against the hush of the morning.

Zach took a moment and watched as the light climbed higher, setting the whole shoreline aglow, a final burst of color before winter came to strip it all away. It was a moment of peace before the day fully began.

Zach loved it here, and he needed this headspace. He had a feeling today was going to be a long one. Especially if Madison’s temper last night was any indication. She’d give him hell, of course she would. He wouldn’t expect anything less.

But even if she tried to toss him out again, Edith would have the final say. Madison’s grandma respected him. She knew he was the best man for the job, and so did George. And at the end of the day, it was their home, their inn. Not Madison’s. Not anymore.

Zach pulled off his sweatshirt and threw it in the truck. It was cold at first, but he knew he’d be sweating in no time. He grabbed a water bottle and slipped on his AirPods, kicking up the music to help motivate him.

He started with a light jog to warm up. He’d run this route hundreds of times—if not thousands. The paved trail looped around Bear Lake, a six-mile stretch lined with flaming red maples and thick oaks. Today, he’d have to cut it short. He wanted to get to work before Madison woke up.

He was running at a steady pace now, his feet hitting the paved trail in a rhythmic slap. Zach waved to Mrs. Humphrey, who regularly walked her black schnauzer, but other than that, the trail was pretty empty, which didn’t surprise Zach. It wasn’t yet 8 a.m.

Early morning in Maple Falls belonged to the dedicated few—the dog walkers, the farmers, and the ones like him who needed the miles to think straight.

Liam, for one. The man hit the trail harder than Zach did, but not in mid-October.

Not when he had his hands full at the farm, gearing up for his family’s annual pumpkin patch opening.

The weekends were non-stop for Liam. Zach didn’t know how he handled the crowds trampling all over his property day after day.

Zach would take the quiet solitude of his apple orchard any day.

Zach hoped things would lighten up for Liam when his brother, Jackson, came back from the military.

Maybe Liam would finally get a chance to open that farm shop he’d been preparing.

It was so nearly there, and Zach would help finish renovating the retail space, stock inventory, whatever Liam needed.

Zach was about halfway through his run when he spotted his mom, Anita, power-walking ahead of him. She was hard to miss in her purple windbreaker, black leggings, and a thick white headband, her short pixie-cut hair spiked up around it.

Zach saw her before she saw him, but the moment she recognized him, her face lit up.

“Morning, son. You look tired—Mrs. Bishop isn’t keeping you too busy?”

“Not when I have to keep re-ordering her cabinets,” Zach said, coming to a slow stop.

Mrs. Bishop was indecisive—that was a nice way of putting it.

Zach preferred to do commercial construction, with its poured concrete, steel beams, and a clear set of plans.

Residential work meant emotions. Arguments over paint swatches.

Endless second-guessing. At least in commercial jobs, no one cried over countertop samples.

Mrs. Bishop only had herself to blame, and all of her home décor magazines that she kept referencing whenever Zach went over.

They’d ordered the cabinets twice, and he had already repainted the kitchen once, and she still wasn’t sure if that was the color she wanted.

They hadn’t even gotten to the hardware yet.

And yet, he still took on Mrs. Bishop’s kitchen renovation because that’s what you did in Maple Falls. You helped your neighbors, even if it meant repainting the same kitchen three times because “eggshell white” somehow looked “too white.”