Muffins & Moonbeams Read online

  “Hopeless romantic then?”

  “Maybe. At least try to work it out with her? I liked her.”

  “I’ll try.” Malachi stood and carried his plate to the sink. “I think I’m going to go home. Appreciate dinner. Will you be by the farmers market tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. Corban wanted me to help at his booth. You going to be there?”

  He shrugged. “Least I can do is man the stall. Micah and Jonah have to get up and bake. They deserve to go home and nap afterward.”

  14

  Ursula scooped up Triton and rubbed his ears. “Did you miss me?”

  His purr rumbled in his chest and he let out a prrrow.

  “Well, I missed you. Anything to tell me about?” She set him down in front of his dish. She reached for one of the few cans of food she kept for special treats and opened it before scooping half into a bowl, noting that his automatic feeder still had plenty of dry food in it. He made a contented noise before settling on his haunches to eat. “I’m glad it was uneventful. I had a good visit with Mom and Dad. They might actually come and see us. I guess I piqued their interest for the first time since I moved here. I wonder just how much Malachi has to do with that.”

  She shook her head and went to her bedroom, dragging her suitcase with her. Malachi. The conversation with her father still echoed in her head. Had she been waiting for him to let her down? Whether or not she’d been waiting for it, he had. Hadn’t he? How long had they been friends online...and never once had he thought to mention he was hearing impaired? Although, they really hadn’t shared much personal information, so maybe that made sense. And she’d never asked why he always used chat instead of the in-game voice channels. She’d just assumed...all kinds of things like maybe he didn’t have the equipment or there was something wrong with his voice. She’d imagined a stutter or a very high pitch. And then she’d dismissed it from her mind. It wasn’t like everyone online used a microphone.

  So, fine. Maybe he hadn’t kept it as a big secret. He hadn’t denied it when she brought it up. But he’d figured out who she was and hadn’t said anything, leaving her to broach the embarrassing subject. Wait. Had it been pride behind her anger? Heat flooded her face and she closed her eyes. That was a lowering thought. Oh, what had she done?

  Ursula unzipped her rolling bag and grabbed up all her clothes in one big lump. She carried them to the bathroom and dropped them in the hamper then sat on the edge of the tub. She couldn’t undo what had happened. But maybe she could figure out a way to fix it. Step one? Reply to the email she’d gotten from Micah—and oh the pangs in her heart that Malachi hadn’t been the one to write—asking her to stay on as their web designer until they could find someone new. Well, they didn’t need to find someone new, that much was certain. Step two? She didn’t have one yet. But something would come to her. It usually did.

  * * *

  Ursula scanned the foyer of Grace Fellowship. There was Jonah. And Ruth and Corban. But where was Malachi? With Micah somewhere? Maybe trying out a small group or hanging back in the sanctuary to talk to the pastor? She wove through the crowd and peeked through the doors into the mostly-empty worship center. No Malachi.

  Someone tapped her shoulder. She turned. “Oh. Hi, Ruth.”

  “Hi. I didn’t think we’d see you today.”

  Heat flooded Ursula’s face. She didn’t want to apologize to his sister before she talked to him though. “Yeah. I...wasn’t sure I’d be here either.”

  Ruth nodded, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Well, it’s nice to see you. Have a good Sunday.”

  “Sure. Thanks.” Ursula chewed on her lower lip as Ruth turned. “Wait.”

  Ruth stopped and faced her again.

  “Is Malachi here?”

  Ruth smiled and shook her head. “Nope. Not today. Sorry.”

  She opened her mouth and snapped it shut. She wasn’t going to beg. Clearly there was a wall of sibling solidarity going on here. And that was fine. Good, even. “Okay. Thanks.”

  Ruth cocked her head to the side. “Want to join me for lunch?”

  “I...don’t you have plans with your fiancé? I don’t want to intrude.” Ursula’s stomach sank. It might be fun to have lunch with a girl friend...not that Ruth was any sort of friend. Yet. And it wasn’t as if Ursula was the kind of person who made friends—no, stop. She was done with that line of thinking.

  “He’s fine. Ever since you and Malachi went to El Corazon, I’ve been dying to try it. I’m told they have a good brunch buffet on Sunday.”

  Ursula’s mouth watered. “If you’re sure...I’d like that a lot.”

  Ruth grinned. “Absolutely. I’ll meet you there?”

  “Okay. Thanks, Ruth.” Ursula waved and crossed the foyer. Maybe at lunch Ruth would be more forthcoming about Malachi’s whereabouts. Or...maybe she should let it rest. She could just send him an email. Or a text. He didn’t seem to be playing Orion’s Quest anymore. She’d logged in last night and checked. He hadn’t been on since the night she kicked him out.

  The restaurant was on the way out of town, but it still didn’t take long to reach. The parking lot was fuller than she’d anticipated. Although really, who could resist Mexican food? And a brunch buffet to boot. She pulled into a spot and cut the engine. Her stomach jittered. When was the last time she’d sat down to a meal with another woman who hadn’t been her mom? Or a business contact? Too long to figure. She blew out a breath. She could do this.

  Ursula crossed to the restaurant and pulled open the door. She scanned the tables but didn’t see Ruth. She raised two fingers and followed the hostess to a small booth wedged in the back corner. The scent of chorizo and huevos rancheros reached her and her stomach rumbled. It’d be rude to start without her though. A glass of water appeared as the server efficiently moved between tables.

  “Hi. You’re quick.” Ruth hung her purse across the back of her chair and grinned. “They said to just grab a plate and start if we were doing the buffet?”

  Ursula nodded and stood. “Definitely the buffet.”

  She followed behind Ruth, taking a little bit of everything as they slid down the line. All the smells mingled into a tantalizing aroma of spice and meat. And it was all distinctly Mexican. Back at their table, Ruth said a quick grace before Ursula reached for her fork.

  “I’m so glad you thought of this place. I don’t get down here as much as I should. There’s a Mexican restaurant in Columbia, where my parents live, and we go every time I’m home because I’m craving their salsa. But I forget El Corazon is right here.” Ursula pushed at the spoonful of beans that was trying to ooze into her rice.

  Ruth sipped from her steaming mug, her eyebrows lifting. “Wow. Did you get the hot chocolate?”

  Ursula wrinkled her nose. “I’ve tried it. Not my thing. But I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

  A man who appeared to be the manager was walking from table to table, asking everyone how they liked the food, whether everything was okay. He was cordial and obviously concerned about the customers, but there was a don’t-come-too-close look in his eyes. Ursula recognized it because she’d worn the same expression often enough. And was trying to stop doing it.

  “That’s Javier Quintana,” Ruth whispered after he’d walked away. “Handsome, right? Women love him, but he doesn’t date. Supposedly, he never got over his high school sweetheart.” And then she looked hard into Ursula’s eyes. “So. Do you want to tell me what happened with Malachi?”

  Ursula blinked at the abrupt change of subject, her fork halfway to her mouth. With effort, she finished the bite and chewed. He hadn’t told his family? She took a long drink of water. “Um. What did he say?”

  “That he didn’t want to talk about it.”

  Ursula looked down at her plate, her appetite gone. “Maybe I shouldn’t, then. I mean...I don’t know...it seems weird.”

  Ruth sighed. “You’re probably right. I just hate not knowing. Because that means not being able to help. And that’s...probably exact
ly what he’d like to avoid. He’s a grown man, for all that he’s my little brother. I worry about him, though.”

  “I’m pretty sure he knows you love him.” Ursula patted her beans with her fork, concentrating on making intersecting hash marks in their surface.

  “Yeah, I know. But the two of you were good together. It bothers me that it seems to be over.”

  Ursula cleared her throat and raised her eyes to meet Ruth’s. “Do you think there’s any chance I can fix things?”

  15

  Malachi offered Amos his arm for the two steps of his porch to the front door.

  “Thank you, son. I haven’t been to church since Alma passed. It was good to see everyone again.”

  “It was my pleasure.” And it had been. It was fascinating to be the one interpreting for Amos. There had been a few hiccups along the way, but nothing terrible. And although initially people had assumed Malachi could hear, when he’d set them straight, they’d rolled with it. Maybe...maybe the people at Grace Fellowship just needed time. The folks at Arcadia Valley Community had been exposed to Amos, so seeing someone sign hadn’t jarred them at all. And the group of seniors who had gathered for lunch at the Jukebox afterward had been a riot. “Let me know if you want to go again. I’m happy to take you.”

  Amos shook his head. “Maybe every now and then, but you belong with people your own age, not stuck with an old man. And I don’t mind church on the television. I turn on the captions and don’t have to worry about a thing. Plus I can pause if I have to use the facilities.”

  Malachi grinned. “Okay.”

  Amos rested his hand on Malachi’s shoulder. “I don’t know what happened with you and your young lady, but I saw her unloading a suitcase from her car yesterday. Figure that means she went on a little trip. But she’s back now, and the only way you work through things is if you talk about them.”

  Malachi let his gaze wander across the street to Ursula’s house. Her car was in the driveway. Was she home or had she walked somewhere? She liked to walk. What would he say, anyway? “I’ll talk to her. But I need to figure out what to say, first.”

  “Start with ‘I’m sorry’ and go from there. Even if you don’t think you’re wrong.” Amos’ eyes sparkled with humor. “Take it from someone who was married more than sixty years; an apology is never a bad idea.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Text me if you need anything, okay?”

  Amos nodded. “Tell me how it goes when you get up the gumption to make your move.”

  Malachi scoffed. Gumption indeed. He waved as he trotted down the steps to his car. He had the gumption. But that wasn’t going to be enough. What he needed was a plan.

  He let his mind wander as he drove back to Corban’s farmhouse. Maybe one of his brothers would have an idea. Or Ruth. But he’d rather save her for a last resort. She already had little hearts floating around her head all the time. And maybe he’d entertained that notion, briefly, about Ursula. But at this point they had to get back to being on speaking terms before anything else.

  He turned into the driveway and sighed. Ruth and Corban were wrapped in each other’s arms under the big tree out front where they often picnicked. They made a nice picture. Nicer because he knew there was genuine affection there, and friendship, not just romance. He shut off the engine and opened the car door. He’d just try to sneak past and leave them be. He got out, collected his Bible and phone, and shut the car door.

  They jolted apart.

  Malachi winced. “Sorry.”

  Ruth signed. “It’s okay. I actually wanted to talk to you.”

  “Okay?” He wandered closer. They needed to get a picnic table, or something, for out here. It would make a nice spot to sit and read. “What’s up?”

  “January sixth.” Ruth glanced up at Corban and he grinned as he nodded.

  “What about it?” Malachi scratched his chin. Were they playing some kind of game where you randomly shouted out dates? If so, he was beaten. That date didn’t ring any bells. Not that he was great at remembering dates, but he usually managed not to forget birthdays.

  “Our wedding date. After Christmas and New Year’s, though we did toy, briefly, with both of those dates. Ultimately, we decided it was better to have a day completely to ourselves. But we needed it to be in the winter, not only because it’s calmer here on the farm, but the B&B is likely going to be considerably less busy, so closing for a couple of weeks won’t be a problem.” Ruth twined her fingers through Corban’s. “And I’d like to thank you for bringing it to my attention that we needed to settle on something.”

  He winced, his gaze flicking to Corban. “Sorry, man.”

  “Don’t be.” Corban shook his head. “Needed to be done. I should’ve said something instead of stewing. I’m working on it.”

  Ruth leaned up and kissed his cheek. “We’ll both work on it.”

  “That’s only what, four months?” Malachi frowned. He didn’t know much about wedding planning, obviously, but that seemed like a fast turnaround.

  “We’re keeping it small. It should be okay. But...could you help me work on Jonah about the cake?” Ruth turned puppy dog eyes on Malachi.

  “Is he giving you the ‘I’m not a pastry chef’ line?” Malachi frowned. His brother was stubborn. But he could make a mean cake when he felt like it. Seemed like his sister’s wedding was exactly the kind of time you should choose to feel like it. “I’ll talk to him.”

  “You’re the best.” Ruth kissed Malachi’s cheek. “Now go away. I wasn’t finished kissing my fiancé.”

  Corban rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around her waist.

  Before Malachi could turn, Ruth touched his arm. “I had lunch with Ursula after church today. She was looking for you.”

  His heart skipped a beat. Maybe two. His sister had turned back to Corban. He wasn’t going to get any more information out of her now. Maybe he didn’t even want to. He’d have to pray about it...think on it. Like he had any choice about that.

  * * *

  By Wednesday, Malachi wasn’t any closer to figuring out what to do. He’d read the email Ursula had sent agreeing to stay on as their web designer on Monday. He’d nearly gone over to see her right then, but he still wasn’t sure what to say. So, instead, he’d sent along the short list of tweaks that he’d put together. And signed it Micah. His brothers had called him a chicken, but that was a small price to pay.

  He breathed in the scent of baking and his mouth watered. The muffin of the week was cooling on the far counter. Malachi pointed and lifted an eyebrow.

  Jonah sighed but waved him on.

  Malachi grabbed a muffin and bit into it. French toast. Who knew you could make French toast muffins? He snuck a second muffin and wandered back into the office. He had to give Jonah credit for coming up with interesting ideas on the muffin front. But, pulling up the orders, he frowned. As good as these were, they weren’t a runaway success. Maybe their copywriting needed a little help? Was there a better way to have described them in the newsletter that would’ve encouraged people to give them a try? He polished off the first and broke the second apart, reveling in the scent of the steam as it rose. It could use a touch of syrup.

  Jonah waved as he entered the office and dropped into a chair. “Good?”

  “Did you consider adding a touch of syrup?” Malachi offered the other half of the muffin to Jonah.

  “Thought about it. Wasn’t sure how it’d hold up when it was cooked. Guess I could give it a shot in the next batch.” Jonah nibbled the muffin and held Malachi’s gaze. “You hear Ruth finally set a date?”

  “January. It’s good. There’s no need to wait when you’re sure.”

  Jonah sighed. “She wants me to make her cake.”

  “And you should.”

  “Seriously?” Jonah shook his head. “I thought I might get a little understanding from you. You realize we’re going to be dressed up like penguins and standing up front with her, right? How am I supposed to be in charge of a cake when
I’m in the wedding party?”

  Malachi shook his head. “Please. You manage more than that on a given day in this bakery. And you did more than this on a typical day when you were working the line. You’ll be fine.”

  Jonah’s shoulders fell. “I guess. I’m glad she’s getting married. I like Corban. I just...”

  “Need to make her cake.”

  “Yeah, all right.” Jonah rubbed the back of his neck. “We might need to close for a day or two beforehand. You’ll need to let everyone know ahead of time to pick up earlier in the week.”

  Malachi smiled. “That’s easy. We’ll need to figure out pickups for the people who use the farmers market soon, too, so they know what to do when the market closes for the season.”

  Jonah nodded. “I’m happy to leave that in your capable hands. You talk to Ursula yet?”

  What was it with his siblings? “Not yet. I’m...not sure what to say.”

  “You’re over thinking. Box up some muffins and go over there. Now. Seriously.” Jonah stood. “And tell me how she likes them.”

  Malachi sighed. “You’re sure?”

  “When it comes to women, there’s no way to be sure. But I know sitting in here moping isn’t doing anyone any good.”

  “I’m not moping. I was coming up with a plan.”

  Jonah shook his head. “Sure you were. It involved a box of muffins and a conversation.”

  Malachi pursed his lips. Maybe his brother was onto something. And that conversation could start with “I’m sorry.” Because Amos wasn’t wrong about that. An apology was never a bad idea.

  * * *

  Malachi swallowed the bile that was trying to creep up his throat. It was because his stomach was churning. But he could do this. He had to. He caught sight of Amos out of the corner of his eye as he walked down the street. The old man gave him a thumbs-up. Did that mean Ursula was home? Or was it just general encouragement? Either way, it bolstered his spirits and quelled a little of the nausea swirling inside him.