Page 57 of Windward Hearts

Diana laid a sympathetic hand on Winnie’s shoulder. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

Winnie shook her head. “I don’t need it, not really. I mostly just needed to vent a little. I have the situation under control, but I can admit that I will be taking a very, very, very long nap when the event is over.”

“A well-earned nap, I would say,” Hope said. “I’m keeping busy just sewing for my one little booth. I can only imagine how much work goes into putting together the whole event.”

“A lot,” Winnie reiterated with a punctuating nod. “But it’s true that it will be worth it. And it will be a big accomplishment for the historical society, and super fun for the community. So a win overall.”

“And a win for you,” Eleanor reminded her friend. “Take credit where credit is due, sweetheart.”

Winnie gave her friends a shy sort of a smile at that. “You’re right. I am crushing it. And it’s only a few more days until the big day arrives, so I just have to buckle down and make it through this last little bit.” She pulled a face. “There are a lot of details left to arrange, though.”

“None of that,” Cadence chided. “Go back to the part about you being so proud of yourself.”

Winnie pumped her fist in the air, a little awkwardly, and everyone chuckled.

“Oh, we can do better than that,” Miriam encouraged.

“Yay for Winnie!” Hope contributed.

“Woo!” Diana cheered. “Let’s raise a glass, yeah?”

They all toasted Winnie, then did another toast to welcome Miriam’s return to health. Eleanor looked around at the smiling circle of women and thought, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, how wonderful it was to have these people in her life, and how grateful she felt to be able to call them all her friends.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Mother nature had gotten the memo that today was the community bazaar, because the weather could hardly be better. Jared tipped his head up to feel the late spring sunshine on his face. The sky was a perfect, cloudless blue, and the temperature was ideal. It was warm without being hot, and Jared felt that he would have been comfortable even if he took off the light denim jacket that he wore.

The whole town had taken the beautiful day as encouragement to turn out for the historical society’s event. The community green was bustling, so thick with people that Jared could only catch glimpses of the different booths as the crowd ebbed and flowed around the space. Jared didn’t mind; he had plenty of time. The restaurant was only open for dinner service, since everyone in town was likely to be eating here. He didn’t even think that there would be many people at the restaurant that evening, since from the smells in the air, there was lots of good things to eat right here.

Jared planned to eat as many of them as his stomach could handle. He loved cooking, but there was something very fun about eating food that someone else had cooked too, especially when those chefs were professionals in their own way too. He let his nose lead the way, enjoying the feeling of grumbling hunger that was growing in his stomach, satisfied that he would soon get to ease those grumbles.

He followed the arc of booths around the green. First, he stopped by Eleanor’s booth, which had a series of books on local history on display. The store’s proprietress was too busy for them to chat for very long, but Jared purchased a cookbook that looked at Massachusetts culinary history and updated the recipes to fit modern trends in cooking. All the chefs who had contributed to the book were New England natives. Jared could see some of the recipes as useful inspiration for things he might serve at Riverstone Kitchen. Even if he didn’t end up using them in his professional life, a quick flip through the pages made him certain that he would cook at least a few of these meals for himself.

Next, he passed to the booth hosted by Juniper Café, where he bought himself a bear claw that was basically the size of his face. He took a bite, finding it so delicious that he had to pause to close his eyes for a moment. They’d been generous with the frangipane in the middle, and he could tell that it had been made in-house. The prepackaged stuff always tasted a little chemical, in his opinion, but this was fresh. The glaze on top had just a hint of citrus to it, and the bright flavor added complexity to the pastry.

Jared looked at it longingly. He didn’t want to fill up on the very first thing he bought to eat, but this pastry was pretty darn irresistible. He took a few more bites before reluctantly wrapping the remaining parts in its paper bag and tucking it safely in the tote he had slung over his shoulder.

He was pleased with his restraint when he moved to the next booth, which had local artisanal cheese samples. He tried more cheeses than he could count, then bought a semi-firm, raw milk cheese, a Camembert-style round, and a pungent hard cheese. He made sure to get a card from the seller, in case any of the cheeses would be good at the restaurant.

He reasoned that if he was buying unreasonable amounts of cheese for professional research, then it wasn’t actually unreasonable at all.

He passed by the Nautical Crafts booth, smiling when he thought of the logo on the box of poker chips that Hope had gotten for the restaurant. He had never been much of a craft guy, since his ‘work with your hands’ energy all went into cooking, but he admired the historical crafts and the different materials for any modern crafter’s needs. When he saw a block of fabric samples in coordinating patterns, he thought about Hope and her quilting, but stopped himself before he reached for it. She would know better than he did what she needed for her hobby, and besides, he didn’t want to be presumptuous.

He passed a few more boutiques from different local sellers, making purchases here and there. He purchased enough jam to get him through at least a year, plus a corn-and-blueberry cookie that looked really interesting. His bag had started to get really heavy by the time he reached Hope’s booth.

She turned to him with a smile.

“Hi!” she exclaimed, finishing tidying a stack of quilted squares before she turned to address him more fully. He paused, then realized that the smaller items were pillowcases, likely for throw pillows. That was clever, since she could make them more quickly than full quilts.

“How’s business going?” he asked.

She gave an excited shimmy. “Really good, actually,” she said, beaming. “I kind of thought that nobody would buy anything, but I’ve sold a whole bunch of things!”

“I’m so proud of you,” he said, meaning it.

Her grin widened even further. “Thank you,” she said. “I couldn’t have done it without you, seriously.”

He shrugged, brushing off the compliment. “I just gave you a little nudge, that’s all,” he said. “You were the one who made all these great things.”