Page 16 of There’s Trouble Brewing

Emily felt a pang of sympathy, of admiration, of something else she couldn’t quite name. “I’m so sorry you went through that.”

“I have to admit, it was hard at first. But eventually, with God’s help, I made peace with it.”

“I’m glad you figured out what you wanted to do next,” she whispered. “The coffee shop, I mean.”

Mark nodded, a slow, deliberate movement, but she could see he wasn’t thinking about the coffee shop at all. “I didn’t think I would,” he admitted, voice raw and open. His gaze locked onto hers, searching for something, asking something she couldn’t yet answer.

They were standing closer, and all she could hear was her heartbeat, the way it drummed louder with each passing second. A gasp caught in her throat, and she wondered what it might feel like to close the gap, to let herself fall into him entirely. But before she could find out what it would be like to kiss him, the unmistakable rumble of a truck engine sliced through the silence, and she winced at the sound.

“Is this the Brave Badge?” a deep male voice called from outside, shattering the intimate moment.

They both turned toward the door, the shift abrupt and awkward.

“I’ll get it.” Mark made his way to the front entrance, his steps heavy, almost as if he was disappointed at the interruption. He opened the door to find a burly man in a worn-out uniform standing on the porch with a truck parked haphazardly in the driveway behind him.

“Afternoon, sir. I have a shipment from the Brave Badge Roasting Company. I’ve got a couple of boxes here for Mr. Merlot,” the delivery worker said, handing Mark a clipboard to sign.

Mark signed for the package and then opened the door for them to bring in the items.

“If you got this all handled, I should probably get going,” Emily told Mark, knowing it was better to leave before they crossed a line and jeopardized their work relationship. Mark nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

Emily turned to leave, her footsteps echoing in the quiet room. As she reached for the handle of the door, she paused for a moment and glanced back at Mark. He was already engrossed with the delivery. With a small, sad smile, Emily opened the door and stepped outside, the door clicking shut behind her as she left the day behind.

Chapter Six

Mark wasn’t much for festivals. Sunburned noses and crying babies. Way too much fried food and wheelbarrows full of yelping puppies. But there he was, smack in the middle of it, stringing up brightly-colored banners and arranging display after display of coffee products. Let her handle it, Emily had said earlier that morning, but Mark never could resist taking care of things; how he hated that about himself.

He spotted Emily coordinating with the mayor’s assistant, juggling two clipboards and a roll of promotional T-shirts. She caught his eye across the booth and grinned. Her lightness was a happy and strange contrast to his no-nonsense attitude. Mark watched her move from task to task, each one an easy leap while he followed the sure and steady path she cleared. What a team they were, he thought, no matter how different they were. He tried to work out what to say to her and how to say it, but the right words never came.

Finally, after another hour, the coffee boothwas in full swing. The other three baristas worked beside them, helping out as best they could.

Emily handed a latte to a customer as another group of well-wishers dropped by. “Just enjoy the limelight for once,” she told him.

Mark wished he could. The spotlight never suited him. That’s why Emily was there. She was everything he wasn’t; a bundle of energy, bright as the banners she hung. Her steps were as quick and sure as his were deliberate and slow. He finished stacking the last of the cups while waving off another few thank-yous. He almost preferred the busy silence of an emergency over the babble of gratitude, the order of it, the knowing what to do, which was the exact opposite of the situation.

People in the bustling crowd kept stopping to thank him. I just did what anyone would have done; he kept telling them, but that didn’t slow them down one bit. A motherly woman clutched his hand. “My heart almost broke when I heard what happened, but you were there to save the day. Thank the Lord,” before shuffling off.

A girl about seven shook his hand, her small mouth twisting around, “Thanks for saving Kurt. Class wouldn’t be the same without him. He makes everyone laugh with his cartoon voices.”

Mark mumbled “no problem” to all of them. Embarrassed and awkward, barely covering how he felt, but he did his best to be friendly for the Brave Badge’s sake. He handed out another fistful of flyers for the coffee shop and fielded more praise than he could handle. It’s good publicity, he told himself. The festival crowd was there in force, and the coffee was selling. That’s what mattered.

Emily zipped back his way, saying, “I’m giving you a heads-up that the paparazzi are about to descend on you.”

Mark’s eyes grew wide with apprehension. He knew itwould only be the local reporters, but that was still more than he preferred. “Do I have time to get away?”

She shook her head and laughed. “You’ll live through it. Remember, deep breaths and think of all the free publicity for the Brave Badge,” she called over her shoulder, her tone light with a touch of humor.

Mark managed a half-smile, appreciating Emily’s efforts to make it better for him. As she returned with the tray balanced expertly in one hand, he couldn't help but admire her. She moved through the crowd effortlessly, her laughter mingling with the sounds of the festival. It contrasted sharply with his own rigid stance behind the counter.

As predicted, a small group of local reporters began making their way toward him, cameras flashing.

“So, Mark Merlot,” began one eager young reporter with a recorder poised, “how does it feel to be Faith Valley’s newest hero?”

Mark glanced at Emily, who gave him an encouraging nod. “It's an honor to be able to help,” he said carefully, finding strength in her presence. “But today’s really about celebrating our community and supporting local ventures like my coffee shop, Brave Badge.”

Despite his reservations about being in the spotlight, Mark was handling it like a pro—thanks largely to Emily’s guidance. As the interviews continued, he relaxed a bit and was able to field the questions easier. Thankfully, after a few more minutes of gentle probing by the reporters, they seemed satisfied and moved on.

Mark exhaled deeply once they had gone and looked over at Emily with a relieved grin. “Thanks for having my back.”

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