The Holiday Swap(54)
The trail steepened quickly, and the snow crunched underfoot with each step, their breath leaving frosty wisps. She was glad it was Sunday, and that the bakery opened a touch later. It meant she had plenty of time to hike with Jake, get back for a shower, and then relieve Walter, who had practically pushed her out the door that morning.
“Cass, you know what you always tell me about the dough,” Walter had said, watching Charlie mismeasure the icing sugar for the cinnamon bun glaze—for the second time. She was restless and clumsy, and some of the powdery sugar tipped over the edge of the measuring cup, and Walter was clearly exasperated.
“Hmm? What?” Charlie had been focused on the icing sugar, double-checking the amount, and taking a deep breath to try and steady her hands.
Walter then adopted a serious tone. “?‘The dough always knows.’?”
She had stopped measuring and looked over at him. “?‘The dough always knows’?”
He had given her a critical look, then shrugged. “Look, you’re clearly somewhere else. So why not do yourself—and the dough—a favor and go get some fresh air? We’re on track for opening, and I already started the Live.Li. You can just shut it off when you’re back.”
Charlie found Cass’s hiking boots in the closet and was dressed and out the door a few minutes later. She hadn’t expected to run into anyone, let alone Jake, on the trails, but was glad she had. It gave her an opportunity to clear the air, maybe set things right with Jake before she had to go back to L.A. She was lost in thought for the last part of the hike, but Jake didn’t comment on her quietness, though she saw him glance over at her a few times.
Turned out six bagels provided excellent hiking fuel, and Bonnie was still running circles around Charlie and Jake when the two decided to take a moment of rest at the top of the trail. The view of Starlight Peak was beautiful, the town nestled into the space between the snowcapped forest and hills. Hiking had been a big part of the twins’ lives growing up, their mom an avid outdoorswoman who had them on the trails basically as soon as they could walk. Charlie had a pair of hiking shoes in L.A., and though it was one of her favorite pastimes, she realized it had been well over a month since she had been up in the hills. She was so busy with the show it left little time for much else, particularly exercise, except for an occasional surf or run along the beach.
“I’ve missed this,” she said, taking in the view.
“Yeah, I guess you don’t have much time for hiking, with the bakery and everything.” Jake nodded, his eyes sweeping over the same peaks and valleys. The sun was now fully up, and it still snowed lightly, which made the sky sparkle in front of them. “Bonnie and I try to do this climb a few times a week. It’s good for her to have some time off leash.”
“I know how she feels. Work can be all-consuming. It’s hard to remember there’s more to life than the show.”
“?‘The show’?”
“Oh, I just meant, like, work can be a sort of circus show . . . You know?” Charlie sipped her water, hoping Jake didn’t notice she was flustered.
“I can only imagine.” Jake took a canvas pouch from his small backpack and opened the sides until it formed a square-shaped bowl. “Things can get intense at the fire station, but I get days off. Which seems like a tough thing to manage when you own a bakery.”
“It’s hard to take a break,” Charlie said, thinking of Cass and how this was the longest she’d ever been away from the bakery. She wondered if her twin was missing her regular routines in Starlight Peak. “There’s always more to do.”
Jake nodded. “Especially when you love what you do.”
“I do love it.” Charlie, of course, meant her career in L.A., but between the familiarity of home, the bakery’s comforting predictability, and being here at the top of the peak with Jake and Bonnie, breathing in the fresh winter air . . . she could almost imagine an alternate reality. Here in Starlight Peak, with Jake.
Jake poured water into the bowl, and Bonnie eagerly came over and sniffed, clearly hoping for something delicious. But rather than have a drink of the water, she started to eat mouthfuls of snow from right beside the bowl. They both laughed, and Jake shook his head.
“I’m still adjusting to this one,” he said, patting Bonnie on the back while she licked at the snow. “Cody was a puppy when we got him, so I trained him from the start.”
At Jake saying “we” Charlie’s stomach clenched as she thought of the beautiful woman in the photos on Jake’s camera.
“Cody was your dog before Bonnie?”
“Well, I guess he’s my dog still, technically,” Jake replied, capping his water and sticking it back into his pack. “But he lives with my ex. It wouldn’t have been fair to drag him here.” His mouth twisted like he’d eaten something sour, and suddenly Charlie realized what Faye had meant about the “custody” situation. It was about Cody the German shepherd.
“Cody looked like a real sweetheart. Especially with that one floppy ear,” Charlie said. “I don’t know the circumstances, but that must have been so hard. To leave him behind.”
Jake squinted in the sunshine, and then made a snowball to throw for Bonnie, who delightedly chased it, barking as she did. “It was. It is, I guess.” He threw another snowball. “But it’s not all bad,” he added. Charlie flushed at his words, and at the way he flashed her a smile when he said them.