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As though Jillian sensed he was staring at her, she glanced in his direction. Suddenly his worries over tonight’s competition slid to the back of his mind. All he could think about was going to Jillian and making sure things were still all right between them.
He’d taken a step in Jillian’s direction when Jane McCullough stepped in front of him. “Hi. I was wondering where you were.”
“I just arrived.”
“No problem. Your workstation is this way.” She indicated the opposite direction from Jillian’s stall.
“I was just going to step over there.” He motioned to Jillian, who appeared to be watching his exchange with Jane.
“I’m afraid it’ll have to wait. We need to get you in your apron and set up at your station. This competition is set to start shortly.” She took his arm and starting walking.
He had no choice but to follow along unless he wanted to make scene. He glanced over his shoulder, but Jillian was now distracted with some customers.
He grudgingly followed Jane into the kitchen. He hadn’t been back to Marietta High School since his brother and sister had attended. And even though they’d graduated less than a year ago, it still seemed as though a lifetime had passed.
Jane walked very quickly. Luckily, his leg was actually feeling a lot better. But everyone, including his physical therapist, had warned him not to overdo it. Little did they know he was already considering heading back out on the circuit to win some money. He just had to do everything he could to buy the Crooked S like Howard would have wanted.
*
Jillian was more excited than she’d been expecting.
With everyone seated to watch the baking competition, there were no more customers to buy the wristbands; so Jillian had moved toward the front where she could get a good view of the bachelors. There were eight of them in total. She smiled when she realized they all looked as though they would rather be anywhere but standing in front of half of the town.
Just then Mrs. Monroe said, “Okay, bachelors, start your cookies!” Then she rang a little bell.
Everyone cheered and the baking began.
Jillian was so excited for Avery. Even if he didn’t win, she was proud of him. It took a lot for him to get up there in front of everyone. She finally squeezed her way up to the front of the room. She walked by Avery’s station just as he was browning the butter. He glanced her way and smiled. She could tell by the stiff smile and the worry in his eyes that he was nervous about the competition.
One of the contest co
ordinators stopped to ask him something just as the butter started to bubble. Jillian noticed how Avery stopped stirring. He moved away from the stove to grab a piece of paper. Oh no! She wanted to rush over and continue stirring for him. She knew from experience just how easy it was to burn the butter. But there was nothing she could do. With this being a competition, there could be no interference. But who was to say she couldn’t signal him?
She moved until she was in his line of sight and then, as discreetly as she could, she motioned toward the butter. When he got her message, his eyes opened wide and he rushed back to the stove.
Jillian walked back to the craft stall that she was manning with Suzanna. She could only hope the butter was okay. Because she knew Avery could bake these cookies—she’d sampled one, then another, followed by a few more. After all, it was her job as his mentor to make sure they were tasty.
“Well, how’s it going over there?” Suzanna asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Oh no. That doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s just that Avery got distracted and I’m afraid the butter burned. Hopefully I’m wrong.”
“It’ll be fine. You taught him well.”
Jillian was surprised by how invested she was in this competition. After all, she was just an instructor, albeit a reluctant one at that. But the atmosphere of the townspeople was contagious. They were all excited about the competition and cheering everyone on. Perhaps she would have favored Avery, even if he wasn’t her student.
At last, Avery pulled a tray of cookies from the oven and replaced it with a new tray. Jillian quietly watched from the sidelines as he set the timer. They’d worked hard to figure out just the right amount of time to bake them, but she’d forgotten to mention that the baking time could fluctuate with a different oven. She hoped Avery would think of that.
And now that the cookies were pulled from the oven, she waited and wondered how he did. When a small smile lifted his lips, she knew they hadn’t burned. She knew he could do it.
“And now while we wait for the cookies to cool,” Mrs. Monroe said, “we’ll pull the ticket for the honeymoon suite at the Graff Hotel. Are you ready?”
There was a murmur of agreement that rippled through the crowd. She read off the winning ticket number. Jillian watched as everyone pulled out their tickets. She didn’t have any. She had absolutely no use for a room at the Graff Hotel, much less the honeymoon suite.
Her gaze strayed back to Avery as he moved the cookies from the hot baking sheet to a cooling rack. He looked like a real pro up there. She smiled. Jillian was so happy she’d been able to help him…even if things had gotten a little complicated at times.
