Her Sweet Temptation
Автор
Nina Crespo
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Chapter One
Zafrina Tillbridge drove over one of the many bumps on the vacant tree-lined road. As the bronze SUV shimmied and bounced, an image sprang up in her mind of the perfectly flaky crusts on the apple, peach and blueberry pies stowed in the rear of the vehicle crumbling to bits. Taking the two-lane shortcut that morning as a faster way to Tillbridge Horse Stable and Guesthouse was the worst idea of her entire week. And it was just Monday.
A couple of months ago, the location scouts for the sci-fi Western movie, Shadow Valley, that was currently being filmed at Tillbridge had stopped by Brewed Haven, the cafe she owned in Bolan, and fallen in love with her pies. The film’s production company had offered her a month-to-month catering contract, and she’d agreed to provide desserts once a week during lunch for the cast and crew of the film.
Zafrina hit another dip in the road and her inner perfectionist wailed. This can’t be happening. Her first delivery for the contract, and instead of masterpieces, she was potentially delivering a mess.
The car system’s ringtone came through the speakers and she glanced at the screen. It was her best friend, Philippa, the chef of Pasture Lane Restaurant and the manager of the guesthouse at Tillbridge. The restaurant was providing a special lunch for the cast and crew to celebrate the kickoff week for the filming of the movie. She was supposed to meet Philippa where they were setting up to serve the food at noon.
She clicked the answer button on her steering wheel. “Hi, Philippa.”
“Hey, wh—are—?” The rest of what Philippa said was even more distorted by interference.
“What did you say? You’re not coming in clearly.”
More garbled words came through then the line went dead.
It had sounded like Philippa was asking, “Where are you?” or maybe it was, “Why aren’t you here yet?” Either question wasn’t a good one. The buffet was probably set and ready to go...minus her desserts.
Finally, Zafrina reached the intersection to the empty main road. Just a couple of more miles and she’d arrive at the stable.
A red truck came out of nowhere and blew past from the left.
Zafrina gripped the steering wheel and jammed her foot on the brake. Hot-and-cold prickles of alarm and relief rained over her, and the jeans and lemon yellow T-shirt she wore suddenly became too warm and not warm enough at the same time.
An elusive memory of a curved road she couldn’t place started to slip into her thoughts. No. The car was gone, and she was okay. She needed to get to Tillbridge. Taking in a long, slow breath and releasing an even longer exhale, she eased down on the accelerator and turned right.
Farther down the road, she passed by a gently sloping fenced-in pasture, and she opened the driver-side window breathing in the earthy scents of rich earth and lush green grass warmed by the sun, and horses. Echoes of the past filled with happiness, perseverance, and triumph filled her mind. Even though she didn’t live on the property anymore, Tillbridge would always be home.
Uniformed guards controlled access to the paved parking lot behind the large horse stable.
Still not used to the increased security on the property because of the film production, Rina dug through the center console for her VIP badge. After parking in one of the few vacant spaces, she grabbed her things from the front passenger seat and got out. As she put on the purple apron printed with the cafe’s name and logo of hearts winding up like steam from a coffee cup, a summer breeze blew through her black braids secured by a yellow band.
Chestnut, sable and gray horses roamed around the paddock on the far right adjoining the sandstone-colored stable that had a navy roof and trim.
The lunch buffet was supposed to be set up near the picnic tables in the outdoor seating area yards down from the building. Where were the white tents and the lime-green van from Pasture Lane?
She called Philippa who answered on the second ring. “Hey, Rina.” Like most of Zafrina’s friends and family, Philippa used the shortened version of her name.
“Where are you?”
“And hello to you too,” Philippa replied. A faint southern lilt wove through her words.
“Sorry.” Rina closed her eyes a moment. “I’m having a crazy day. Aren’t we supposed to set up in the picnic area by the stables?”
“There was a change of plans and they’re running late. That’s why I was calling you earlier. When I couldn’t get through, I sent you a text.”
Messages chimed in and Rina glanced at the notifications on her phone. One text was from Philippa about the changes. The other was from Darby, who was working a split shift at the cafe, leaving for the afternoon and returning later that evening:
Right sink in the ladies’ room starting to drip. Need more bulbs—the light in the storeroom is flickering again. A guy stopped by and filled out an application. It’s on your desk.
Rina added buying florescent bulbs and finding a plumber to her growing mental to-do list. She’d look over the application when she returned.
Just over a week ago, she’d unexpectedly lost one of her key employees who handled maintenance at the cafe and made the deliveries. Now she and her staff were struggling to take up the slack. If the person who’d stopped by had the right qualifications to fill the position, she’d set up an interview with him as soon as possible.
“Hellooo,” Philippa called out over the phone. “Are you still there?”
“Yes. I was glancing over the messages I missed. I’m just getting them. I came the back way. My cell reception dropped out.”
“You drove here on that pothole-infested road? Why?”
Rina muzzled her excuse. She’d wanted to save time, but in retrospect, her reasoning had been more than just a little faulty. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you when I see you. Where are we setting up now?”
“Halfway across the field past the new barn.”
Rina looked behind her, spotting the food van and two white tents in the distance. “Be there in a sec.”
“Oh and—”
Rina hung up prematurely. Oops. But in a few minutes, Philippa could tell her what she’d started to say.
At the back of the SUV, Rina slipped the phone in her front apron pocket and opened the rear door. Had the pies survived? She slid one of the four sheet pans with semiclear lids from the plastic travel container and peeked inside. A breath of relief whooshed out. But now wasn’t the time to celebrate. She still had to get the pies where they belonged.
Rina lifted the sheet pan to her shoulder, closed the rear door, and started across the mown pasture. She’d ask one of Philippa’s staff to get the rest of the desserts.
As she trekked to the catering area yards ahead, she saw Philippa dressed in beige chef’s gear and wearing her signature lime-green bandana as a headband over her dark dreadlocks. She was placing serving utensils on a long empty buffet table under the first tent while her staff was checking over the setup of tables and foldable chairs in the other tents nearby.
In front of Rina to the right, orange cones were stationed a short distance from the open entrance of the new distressed-wood barn that had been built for the film. Funny, it almost felt as if the small barn had always been there. Maybe because years ago there used to be one on the property. The stable had been much smaller, and there hadn’t been a guesthouse, just a large family home where she lived with her parents, Mathew and Cherie, her sister, Zurie, her cousin, Tristan, and his father, Jacob.
Rina couldn’t stop a smile as she thought of summers at Tillbridge back then. As the oldest by more than five years, a teenaged Zurie had been responsible for looking after her and Tristan during the day while their parents worked, although Tristan had believed his role was being their protector. While Zurie was taking care of the big-girl chores—making breakfast and lunch for the three of them and checking on the horses—she and Tristan would sneak off to the empty field to play ball, climb trees and play hide-and-seek.
Ready or not, here I come... The recollection of Tristan as a young boy calling out to her younger self filled her mind.
Philippa shouting pulled Rina back to the present, but she was too far away to hear what she was saying. Why was Philippa waving her arms above her head as if she was warning her off?
