Tempting the Mountain Man (Sweetheart Falls)

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

POLLY

I slide the warm apple turnover across the counter, offering a smile to the elderly gentleman waiting patiently. “There you go, Mr. Hawkins. Enjoy!”

“Thank you, dear,” he says, his wrinkled face crinkling with a kind smile. “You always brighten my day.”

His kind words give me a flush of warmth. “That’s very sweet of you to say, Mr. Hawkins. You’re one of my favorite customers, you know.”

He chuckles, a twinkle in his eye. “Oh, I’m sure you say that to all the old fogies who come in here.”

“Only the charming ones.” I wink, and he laughs again.

As the bell chimes softly with Mr. Hawkins’ exit, I notice Sophie approaching from the corner of my eye. Her expression is pinched with worry, and a knot forms in my stomach.

“Polly,” she whispers, leaning in close. “The stand mixer...it’s officially dead. I tried everything, but it’s not budging. I have three cakes to get started on today. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get them all started without the mixer.”

I press my fingers over the bridge of my nose as a surge of panic threatens to overwhelm me, but I force it down, maintaining my composure. It’s not like I didn’t know this day was coming—I just thought there would be more days until it did.

“Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath. “I’ll figure it out. I’ll stay late to finish the prep on those cakes if I need to. Can you handle the front for a bit?”

Sophie nods, her ponytail bobbing with the movement. “Of course.” She hesitates, then adds, “Everything will work out.”

I give her a grateful smile. “Thanks, Sophie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I retreat to my small office in the back of the bakery and the door closes behind me with a soft click. I take a deep breath and lean against the wood door, closing my eyes. You can do this, Polly. It’s not the end of the world.

Taking another deep breath, I open my eyes and pace my office as I start making phone calls. The first few are frustrating dead ends—mixers out of stock, prices way out of my budget. Finally, on the fourth call, I strike gold.

“Yes, we have one in stock,” the salesman says, his voice tinny through the phone’s speaker. “It’s a great model, perfect for a small bakery.”

Relief floods through me. “That’s fantastic. When can you deliver?”

There’s a pause, and my heart sinks before he even speaks. “Our deliveries are all booked for the next three weeks. I’m sorry, because I understand you need it sooner. It’s pick-up only. Is that something you can do?”

“I…” I hesitate. My ex would say this is the point where I throw in the towel and accept defeat. Fuck that and fuck him for not believing in me. I believe in myself. “I’ll make it work. You’re open until six, right?”

“That’s right, ma’am. I can hang around a little later if you need, just let me know before five, okay.”

I jot down the details and thank him, before ending the call. Slumping back in my chair, I run a hand through my hair, dislodging a few strands from my usually neat bun. My small car won’t be able to transport such heavy equipment. I’m stuck, and the frustration threatens to overwhelm me.

I head back to the front of the bakery. Sophie looks up as I approach, hope shining in her eyes.

“Any luck?” she asks, wiping her hands on her apron.

I nod, trying to inject some optimism into my voice. “I found one, but...they can’t deliver. Maybe your brother could help? With his truck?”

Sophie’s face falls. “Oh, Polly, I’m so sorry. He’s on that road trip to Wyoming, remember? He won’t be back for a few days.”

My heart sinks, though I try to keep a brave face. “Right, of course. I forgot about that. Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out.”

“I’m sure you will,” Sophie says, reaching out to squeeze my arm. “I have faith in you.”

I smile at Sophie, grateful for her confidence. “Thanks, Sophie. I’ve got this.”

She gives me a long look, her brow furrowed. “You know, it’s okay to ask for help sometimes. You don’t have to shoulder everything alone.”

Her words hit close to home, and a lump forms in my throat. “I know,” I say softly. “It’s just...I’ve worked so hard to do this on my own.”

Sophie’s expression softens. “Polly, this bakery is amazing, and it’s all because of you. You should ask the hunk who comes in every day. The one you save apple turnovers for.”

I watch as Sophie turns toward a new customer. “I’ll think about it.”

As closing time approaches, I find myself glancing more and more frequently at the door. The bell chimes with each new customer, but it’s never the one I’m hoping to see. I’m not even sure I’m comfortable asking Gabe for help. I sense that he’d immediately say yes, but a part of me balks at asking a man for help. If I want to do this on my own, shouldn’t I be able to handle everything alone?

I’m wiping down the counter, lost in thought, when Sophie’s voice breaks through my reverie. “Polly? I’m heading out now. Are you sure you don’t need anything else?”

I look up, surprised to see how late it’s gotten. “No, I’m good. Thanks, Sophie. See you tomorrow.”

As the door closes behind Sophie, the bakery is empty except for me, and I feel a pang of sadness. Gabe hasn’t come in today. I’ve come to look forward to his visits, but his absence today is an enormous ache in my heart.

When the bell chimes one last time, I turn, expecting someone coming in after a hike up to the waterfalls. But my heart thumps hard in my chest instead.

“Gabe, hi,” I say, nervously wiping my hands on my apron. Relief floods me that he’s here, but I still can’t get past the deep sadness I felt when I thought he wasn’t coming in today.

“Hey,” he says, his smile warm and familiar. When I don’t respond right away, he crosses the bakery to stand across the counter from me. His forehead creases as his beautiful light brown eyes narrow. “Are you okay? You look stressed.”

I try to smile, but I know it’s forced. After everything with the mixer, I can’t hide my feelings like I usually would with a customer. “Oh, you know. Just one of those days.”

Gabe steps closer, his eyes never leaving mine. I squirm under his full attention, but I can feel my walls crumbling. “What’s going on? How can I help?”

I hesitate, conflicted. I’ve always prided myself on being independent, on handling my problems. Asking for help, especially from a man, brings back uncomfortable memories of my ex’s condescension. But this is Gabe. In all the times we’ve talked, he hasn’t shown himself to be anything like my ex.

Taking a deep breath, I make a decision. “Actually, I could use some help.”

“What needs doing?” Gabe stands slightly straighter and his muscles flex like he’ll do anything I ask him to.

I explain the situation with the mixer, watching as understanding dawns on his face. When I finish, he doesn’t hesitate for a second.

“Of course I can help with that,” he says, his voice firm and reassuring. “What’s the size and weight of it?”

I tell him, and he nods.

“No problem. I can handle that on my own. I’ll need to head up to Chuck’s and empty the supplies in my truck, and then I’ll take you to pick it up.”

Gratitude and relief rush through me. Everything is going to be alright . “Gabe, that would be amazing. Can Chuck spare you?”

He waves off my concern. “It’s no trouble at all. That’s what friends are for, right?”

Friends. The word sends a little thrill through me, even as I wish it meant something more.

“Are you sure?” I ask, still hesitant. “I don’t want to impose.”

Gabe’s expression turns serious. “Polly, look at me.” I meet his gaze, my stomach fluttering at the intensity in his eyes. “You’re not imposing. I want to help. Let me do this for you, okay?”

I nod, warmth spreading through me. Having a man support me, even a friend, is new and welcome. “Okay. Thank you, Gabe. Really.”

He grins, and I swear the whole bakery gets brighter. “Great. I’ll hightail it up to the cabin, then I’ll be back here within the hour. Sound good?”

I smile and nod, happiness filling my soul, then call the supplier to confirm that I’ll be picking up the mixer today.

“That should do it,” Gabe says, placing the new mixer against the wall and picking up the old one.

I watch his muscles flex as he lifts the heavy equipment, and warmth pools in my core. My mind drifts to what it would feel like to trace my fingertips over his muscles, to feel them flex beneath my touch.

“You are my hero,” I say, wanting to give him a bear hug. After honestly not knowing how I would get the mixer in time to keep my business running smoothly, Gabe turned out to be the kind of supportive and reliable man I wasn’t sure I’d ever find.

Gabe’s cheeks flush, and he gestures to the old mixer. “What do you want to do with the old one? Is that something that can be fixed? Or should it go to the dump?”

I think for a moment. “The dump. It’s old. It’d probably cost more to fix than what I paid for this new one.”

“Got it. I’ll put it in the truck and take it to the dump tomorrow.”

“I can’t thank you enough,” I say, my voice thick with gratitude. “You’ve literally saved me and the bakery. How can I repay you? Aside from promising you a lifetime supply of apple turnovers.”

Gabe smiles. “That’s not necessary. But,” he pauses, rubbing the back of his neck as if he’s nervous, “there is something. The fair’s in town this weekend, and there’s a band playing that I like. Would you like to join me and be my date?”

My heart nearly explodes in my chest, and I force myself to count to five before accepting. “That sounds wonderful. I’d love to go with you.”

Gabe’s face breaks into a wide grin, his eyes lighting up in a way that makes my breath catch. “Great! I’ll pick you up Saturday at seven?”

I nod, unable to keep the smile off my face. “Saturday at seven sounds perfect.”

As he leaves, I lean against the counter, my mind whirling. A date. With Gabe. I think back to how I swore off men after the mess with my ex, but I know I have to give Gabe a chance. He makes me nervous in a way that’s exciting and makes me smile when I get up in the morning.

Gabe gives me the happiness of hope.