Page 84 of Sugar & Shadows

I had my head down, adjusting the bags to keep them from sliding, when a large, broad-shouldered person stepped into my path.

“Morning.”

I looked up, squinting in the sunlight, fighting the way that voice sent a shiver up my spine. “Gabriel,” I said coolly.

He ducked, frowning at my feet. “Those are not going to work.”

I assessed my knee-high Jimmy Choo riding boots. They had a low block heel and were silk lined. Perfect for rustic farm shit.

“They’re waterproof,” I said, stepping to one side.

“They’re not that waterproof.” He moved with me, keeping me from passing. “And what’s with the coat?” He tugged at my lapel. “This is going to get ruined.”

“It’s cashmere.” Huffing, I took a step back. “Perfect for winter.”

Harper had said to wear layers. I’d pulled on several. And boots, along with my warmest coat. Yes, they were all black and designer, and yes, each piece cost a small fortune, but why would I go out of my way to buy a new wardrobe for my new short-term role as small-town maple wench?

Gabe, of course, looked like a Patagonia catalog come to life in work pants, boots, and a flannel shirt. He wore a down vest over the shirt and had a pair of work gloves tucked into his back pocket.

“You don’t get to criticize my outfit,” I said. “You look like a Maple Syrup Ken doll.”

He broke into a smile that was far too beautiful for my well-being. “I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.”

“It wasn’t,” I snapped.

Unbothered, He took my elbow and steered me toward his Jeep. “I knew this would happen. No worries, though. I came prepared.”

“I need to get this to Harper,” I said, holding up the drone.

“Not until you have the right gear for the job.” He took it out of my hand and opened his passenger door.

“Borrowed these from my mom. I think the two of you are similar sizes.” He held up work boots with a thick rubber sole and shearling peeking out of the top.

“And this.” He held up a black down parka.

“You said these things were your mom’s. But that has tags on it,” I said.

He looked down, scuffing the snow with his boot. “I grabbed it for you. I figured you didn’t have winter-appropriate clothing. And this is a maple harvest, not a board meeting.”

He pulled out a black knit beanie hat, snapped the tag off, and fitted it on my head.

I frowned up at him, both annoyed and a bit touched by the gesture. The man had bought me a coat? “But it’s barely eleven. Stores aren’t open.”

“I got the coat a while ago.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, but his cheeks turned pink. “Just in case. Now put this stuff on and let’s get to work.” He looked away quickly, like he was avoiding my gaze.

I struggled to understand the gesture. Why would he care if I was cold?

As we walked toward the clearing, with rows and rows of maple trees ahead of us, the gravity of the moment hit me. There were a dozen people here. My team, Josh Lawrence, his girlfriend and her kids, Gabe’s mom and dad—who had given me a warm hello and a to-go cup of hot coffee as we passed them—and a few men I recognized from town. Logan Becker, Gabe’s friend and the veterinarian, a nerdy looking guy in glasses, and a few others.

“Listen up,” Harper yelled, climbing onto the tailgate of a truck.

Heads turned her way, and nearby, a man murmured, “Isn’t she a child?” But the crowd quieted quickly.

Authority was a mindset, and she had it figured out.

“This is it, TAP team. We are live on three platforms and trending in Vermont. And if all goes well, we’re about to wreck some algorithms.”

Cheers went up around the clearing.