Page 18 of The Maverick of the Mountain
I nod. “Well, my niece was asking for one, although she wanted it to have a tutu.”
“Was that the girl you were with earlier today?”
Can’t help but smile. Maybe she wasn’t the only one staring.
“Sure was. I babysit her for my brother from time to time. He works hard, and being a single dad, I like to give him a breaksometimes. She was hounding me about going to the Hungry Hiker. Loves the cake.”
“So do I. So does Hank, for that matter.”
I glance at Hank. “Never met a slice he didn’t like.”
Corinne laughs, and it soothes my soul. “Well, it sounds like your niece has her priorities straight. And I’d love to see this ballerina bear.”
“Sure thing, although we should probably wait for the storm to pass.”
Corinne nods. She’s been a little jumpy each time thunder booms or the lights flicker. I forget that she’s not from around here. Not used to the kinds of storms we get in Whispering Winds, especially up on the mountain.
“And I’ll need to check on my car tomorrow, too. I have a lot of camera equipment in there, and if it’s damaged, I’m screwed.”
“Not a problem. Still up for seeing the mountain?”
She smiles. “Of course. Still have another free day until the wedding.”
Her face falls for a moment, but then she turns.
“How many weddings have you done now?”
“Too many to count,” she says with a sigh. “All done.” Corinne brings the cutting board toward me. “Where do you want them?”
I nod to the stove. “Toss ‘em all into the pot.”
This wedding business seems a little touchy to her. Probably shouldn’t push, but I’m curious. I watch as the vegetables slide into the pot, and then I slip by her and grab the rest of the stock from the fridge.
“Weddings are stressful,” she says, finally, as I pour the stock into the pot. “And the bride is a real piece of work. That’s why I’m here early. To get my head right so I don’t bite her head off during the wedding.”
“Need to vent?”
She looks at me. “No… I really shouldn’t.”
“I’m all ears if you?—“
“I’ve done a lot of weddings,” she interrupts, and I can’t help my smile. “But this one…this one...” Corinne folds her arms across her chest, juts out her jaw, and shakes her head. “It’s in a league of its own. The bride? She’s absolutely…”
I sit back and listen for the next twenty-odd minutes. Maybe an hour, I couldn’t say, but I didn’t mind. Nodding along, offering ‘Mhmm,’ ‘Really?,’ ‘No…,’and the like as necessary. And then, when it seems like Corinne’s venting begins to lose its steam and she appears to be sufficiently satisfied, I offer her the stew.
“I don’t mean to complain. You probably think I’m awful after going off for so long.”
I slide a steaming bowl in front of her, along with a loaf of fresh bread I picked up from the new bakery.
“Not at all. I deal with some difficult clients from time to time. Nothing like what you’ve had to deal with, of course. Woodworking doesn’t tend to bring out the worst in people.”
I sit down at the table next to her, and then a few moments later, Hank turns up. Typical. Amazing how he disappears when there’s work to be done and then reappears once food is served. He looks at me pitifully, and I can’t help it. I sigh and head back to the stove to ladle some into his bowl.
“Well, thanks for listening.” She stares down at her bowl, absently stirring it for a few moments.
“How long have you been a woodworker?” she calls out as I get Hank situated.
“No more begging,” I whisper, roughing up his scruff. “You’ve had plenty.”
