Page 1 of The Mountain Man's Muffin

CHAPTERONE

Ruby

I heardthe first rumble of thunder as I pulled out two trays of chocolate chip muffins. With only two more trays to go, I’d finish up in plenty of time to beat the storm home.

Even if I didn’t, it was fine by me. This bakery, Appleridge Sweets, felt like a second home. I’d crash in the small bedroom tucked away in the back like I’d done many times before. But I knew Gran wanted me home. She was making her famous meatloaf, my favorite meal of hers, and I’d cross oceans not to miss it.

I popped the last two trays in the oven, this batch blueberry, and set the timer. I clapped my hands as I did a little dancey dance. I did it! All ten trays of muffins were finished. I rewarded myself with a chocolate chip cookie. Or two. Gran always said I had a sweet tooth from the minute I was born. She was right, like usual.

One of the locals in town ordered five dozen muffins, and I planned to stop and drop them off on my way home. If our bakery was known for anything, it was our muffins. Especially the apple-cinnamon ones.

I danced my way over to my phone and turned up the music. The best way to clean was with some good tunes. At least that was what Gran always said. I agreed. I put away the muffin ingredients and brought the dishes to the sink, all while shaking my ass to Biggie.

Above the sink was a large window looking out the back of the building. The view was stunning, especially now, during the fall season. I forgot how much I missed this view while living in the city. The oranges and reds of the trees as the leaves changed color were sprinkled throughout with the perfect mountain backdrop.

Growing up in Appleridge, I never found an apple orchard too far or a mountain you didn’t want to climb. Why I took so long to come back is beyond me. I was comfortable in the city where I earned my college degree, but I knew I wouldn’t be comfortable losing the bakery.

So when Gran said she planned to sell it because she could no longer manage, I knew it was time. I was only twenty-three and had plenty of energy to take over. Not to mention a degree in business. I knew it would come in handy one day.

More importantly, this bakery was a big part of my childhood, and my memories were irreplaceable.

A loud crack of lightning flashed through the sky, and I jumped. The sky became dark within seconds, and the floodgates opened. Rain poured down.

Guess I won’t beat the storm after all.

With more pep in my step, I finished the dishes, pulled the muffins from the oven, and did my morning prep while they cooled.

My phone buzzed on the table, and Gran’s name flashed on the screen.

“Ruby, dear! Please tell me you’re almost here,” Gran asked before I had the chance to say hello.

I cringed, not wanting to lie but not wanting to upset her either. “Almost! I’ll see you soon, okay, Gran? Love you.”

“Love you more, sweetie,” she answered.

When the muffin order was packed, I headed for the door, making sure all ovens and lights were off. When I stepped onto the front porch, that was when I saw it.

My car’s back tires had sunk at least a foot deep in the thick mud.

Think, Rubs. Think.

Okay, I’d dealt with storms like this before. I’d handle it. I hoped.

But after several unsuccessful attempts, it was official. My car was stuck in the mud.

“Oh no.” I sighed. I couldn’t call Gran. She’d only get upset. I wasn’t about to call Lena, my best friend, who lived a couple of miles from here. Her car wasn’t much better than mine. And her cute niece kept her busy.

I sat there, unsure what to do. I tried one more time to free my car, but I’m pretty sure I made it worse. Seemed like my only option was to stake out in the bakery.

After I opened my car door, flashing lights stopped me. I looked up at a large truck. A large tow truck, to be exact. It was my lucky day.

An even larger man got out, and the first thing I noticed was his beard.

Okay, well maybe not the first thing.

There was just so much to look at.

His tall, huge frame. His broad, beefy shoulders. The outline of muscles defined beneath his tight flannel. Holy shit.

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