Megan laughed. “You’ve created a monster. She’s already asking if we can come back next year.”
Hannah’s enthusiasm was contagious. She perked up even more when a young man in an apron strolled over from the kitchen.
“Extra side of bacon and two waffles?” he said, flashing a big white smile as he set the plate down in front of me.
“This for me?” It was always my go-to when they invited me over back home.
“I wouldn’t forget,” Megan said, nodding as she sipped her coffee.
“Hi, I’m Owen.” The young man with dark curly hair and freckles addressed this mostly to Hannah. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can get for you.”
Hannah blushed, suddenly shy. Megan and I exchanged a knowing glance.
“Alright, Owen, wrap it up,” Pops exclaimed, strolling through the dining room. “Those eggs aren’t scrambling themselves in there.”
Owen tucked his tail and returned to the kitchen as Pops came over to say hello.
“Picked up an extra pair of hands?” I asked.
“Nice kid. Helping out in the kitchen a few days a week over winter break. Gets a little distracted around the ladies, if you know what I mean.”
Hannah turned her attention back to her plate and dug in, a little bashful.
“He’s cute,” Megan said, glancing back toward the kitchen. “Should I be worried?”
Pops laughed, swatting at the air. “Ah, he’s a good kid. Harmless.”
Once Pops started making the rounds to check on the other tables, Megan turned serious. “So, tell me. How’s it really going up there? The job, the family, all of it.”
I hesitated, then decided to be honest. “It’s . . . intense. Mrs. Hawthorne is a bit of a dragon. But the work itself is rewarding, and Charles—” I stopped myself, heat rising to my cheeks.
“Ah, Charles,” Megan teased, her eyes gleaming. “I wondered how long it would take for him to come up.”
I sighed. “It’s complicated. But honestly, what’s been on my mind more is the Instagram account. It’s taken off in a way I couldn’t have expected. People love the behind-the-scenes look at life as a private chef in the Rockies.”
Megan was already up to date on the new account. As a marketing tool, she thought it was genius. Only problem was, I wouldn’t be able to tell potential clients it was me. A small flaw in the plan.
Megan nodded thoughtfully. “You’ve always had a knack for storytelling, Elle. And I think it informs your cooking. From what I’ve seen, it seems like you’ve been doing the best food of your life out here. I think Maplewood Creek has been good for you.”
“It has,” I admitted. “I’ll be sort of sad to let it go when the season ends. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still stoked for London.ACEhas been my dream forever. But I’m really going to miss this place.”
“That’s the great thing about dreams,” Megan said gently. “You never have to stop at just one. After you’ve conquered London, maybe Maplewood Creek could be a new dream for you.”
Her words lingered with me long after we parted. And while my schedule for the day was tight, there was one more errand I wanted to see to.
I texted Mia on my way to the marketplace. She met me at the picnic tables outside the barn with some hot cocoa, and we both took a seat in the warmth of the nearby space heater.
“So, today’s the big event,” she said. “I figured you’d be neck-deep in butternut squash by now.”
“I will be soon,” I assured her, a little daunted by the scale of what was waiting for me back at the chalet. “But first, I wanted to clear the air about something.”
“Uh-oh.” Her smile turned a bit anxious. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“You and Charles. I know this is totally none of my business, but I have to know. What went wrong between you two?”
Much as I had told myself I wouldn’t get involved in the gossip, things were different now. I cared about Charles. About where this thing between us might go from here. And if there was any possibility of a future beyond this season, I had to know what I was getting myself into. For better or worse.
“Oh.” Mia sighed. She took a sip of her cocoa while she deliberated over how much she cared to divulge.
