Chapter Twenty

Over the days that followed, they moved into a kind of routine. If they hadn’t spent the night together, Colin came down to have breakfast with Peaches in the Salty Goat kitchen. Ruth would join them after a half hour or so, ready to talk about the day’s menus, the prospects for a warming trend in the weather, and if Colin needed to wash the windows before March (probably not). If he’d spent the night with Peaches, they’d head for breakfast as a couple, with Colin making the coffee while Peaches readied the pastries she’d prepared the day before.

He was happy. Definitely happy. Seeing Peaches first thing in the morning started his day with a certain glow. If he was seeing her in bed, it was even better—although that bed wasn’t his. It made more sense for him to sleep over at her house than for her to brave the limitations of his place, although Peaches was helping him figure out how to upgrade the sofa bed.

But he didn’t care where they were exactly as long as they were together.

Buoyed by his improved love life, he’d started work on the honey wheat, after getting the raw honey from Angel. The taste of Angel’s honey was unique—sort of piney and like clover at the same time. It was dark and slightly cloudy, unfiltered and full of goodness. He warmed it slightly to kill any wild yeast. The mash had to be kept at a temperature near the top of the safe range so the yeast he added didn’t ferment all the sugars out.

He added a healthy amount of honey to the brew, a little over 10 percent. The flavor was noticeable but not overpowering. He was torn between adding the honey to the brewing kettle and adding it to the fermenter, but he ultimately went with the end of the brew. He still worried about wild yeast, and he didn’t want the beer to taste like mead.

The fermenting beer took up most of the space remaining in the shed, given that he was already storing kegs of ale and IPA. After mulling over his options, he approached Liam at the pub.

The main pub room had taken shape over the past months. The planked pine floors had a golden finish that made them glow. The wainscoting around the walls had been painted dark brown with bright yellow upper walls. The single blue wall held a huge blackboard where someone had scrawled “Coming Soon—Beer” in pink chalk.

Colin placed two growlers full of beer on the curved oak bar at the end of the room, where Liam was lining up glasses. “Morning.”

Liam glanced back at him. “Morning. What have you got?”

“More IPA. I used more citra hops this time.”

Liam grimaced. “That can make it taste like grapefruit juice.”

“It can.” Colin shook his head. “Mine doesn’t.”

Liam poured a short sample into one of the glasses, sniffing then tasting. “You’re right. It doesn’t. What else?”

“I’m almost out of room at the shed. I’m storing kegs of ale and the two different IPAs, and now I’ve got my honey wheat brewing. I need more space.” He folded his arms across his chest. “I need a new place to brew.”

Liam shook his head slowly. “Bec’s still adamant about you not working in the main building with her. I think she’s being pigheaded, but she doesn’t listen to me when we talk about it. I don’t think I can convince her to change her mind. At least not right now. Maybe after the pub opens she’ll consider it.”

“What about working here at the pub?” Colin asked. Wyatt might veto the idea, but he had to at least bring it up. “Have you thought about having a production line out where people can see it?”

“We’ve thought about it, but we haven’t done anything. Putting in a full-fledged production line takes up a lot of space, which means fewer tables, which means less money in the long run. Plus we’d have to buy more equipment or move the equipment over here from the main building. That’s a big expense—it’s not in the budget right now.”

Colin let his hands drop to his sides, trying not to let his frustration show. “I’m going to need another space, Liam. Right now, I can keep going where I am, but I’d like to try the oatmeal stout again, along with the honey wheat. Do you want more of my ale and IPA?”

Liam rubbed a hand across his face. “Yeah, I want your ale and IPA. And yeah, I want you to do other stuff eventually. You still need your epic beer for the opening. It’s less than a month away now. I’ll see what I can come up with for space. There’s a storeroom here at the pub. We’re already storing some kegs there, but right now you can probably set up a small line like you’ve got at the shed.”

Colin had a quick thrill of triumph. Finally, I won one. “What about Wyatt?”

Liam didn’t pretend not to know what he was talking about. “Wyatt won’t be around much until we’re actually open. It’s my decision.”

“I’ll need a brewpot and a fermenter, along with all the other equipment—the hydrometer and tubing and so on. And I’ll need an electric burner.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Liam sighed. “That’s not going to be too expensive. We’ve already got some of the stuff. The room won’t need much adapting. There’s already a sink for water, so that much is taken care of. There used to be a computer and printer in there, so I know we’ve got the electrical connections.” He gave Colin the ghost of a smile. “It’s not the greatest use of the space, but at least it gives both of us some room to experiment. It’s what I wanted to do when I first pitched the brewpub idea to Wyatt and Bec.”

Colin nodded. “Maybe we can both do some brewing back there.”

“Maybe.” Liam sighed. “I haven’t had time to do any brewing since we started renovating the pub, but I’m hoping I’ll have more once the place opens. Make a list of what you think we’ll need. I’ll check to see what we’ve already got and then send in an order for the rest.”

Colin blew out a breath as the tension left his shoulders. “Thanks.”

Liam paused. “So…you and Peaches?”

“Me and Peaches what?” Colin steeled himself for whatever shot Liam wanted to take.

“You’re together?”

Colin nodded. “We’re together. Is that a problem?”

“Not with me. Not so long as you treat her right.” Liam narrowed his eyes.

“I do treat her right. She deserves it.”

“Yeah, she does. She hasn’t had a lot of luck with men.” Liam busied himself behind the bar.

Colin probably shouldn’t ask—one, it wasn’t truly his business, and two, if Peaches wanted him to know, she’d tell him. But somehow, he couldn’t stop the question. “What happened to her?”

“When we worked at Black Mountain Tavern together, back before this place was the brewpub, she hooked up with this jerk, Jerry Cox. Everybody at the tavern knew he was a loser, but Peaches hung on with him, way past when she should have cut him loose.” Liam raised his eyebrows as he lifted a case of steins onto the bar.

Colin figured Liam thought he resembled this Jerry, but something else made his temper flare. “Did he cheat on her?”

“Among other things. Mostly he borrowed money from her—and from everybody else. Jerry had a way of going through his own funds and then sucking up donations from everybody around him. I don’t know how much she gave him. Whatever it was, it was too much. Anything would have been too much.”

Colin went from angry to confused. He wasn’t sure now what point Liam was trying to make exactly. He hadn’t borrowed money from Peaches, and he didn’t intend to start. Of course, he’d lived in her house and eaten her food. And she was currently taking care of his dog.

Only it’s her dog now. Well, our dog.

“She’s got a good heart. I’m sorry somebody took advantage of her.” He zipped up his jacket, checking the weather beyond the door.

“Yeah,” Liam replied. “I’m hoping it doesn’t happen again.”

Colin closed his eyes for a moment, reining in his temper. “I’m not taking advantage of her. I care about her. A lot.”

Liam nodded. “Glad to hear it. I’ll let you know about the brewing setup.”

Colin headed back to the Salty Goat, wondering what had just happened. On the one hand, Liam was warning him not to screw up with Peaches, which pissed him off. But on the other hand, it looked like the two of them would be brewing together just like old times. Just like before he’d left.

Things might be looking up, but he wasn’t going to count on it. Not when he still had so many obstacles in his path, getting Liam’s approval on the honey beer being number one.

As he stepped into the Salty Goat, he saw Bec leaning on the counter, talking to Ruth. She hadn’t come around much since he’d been working there, but it made sense she’d be there now and then; she’d been Ruth’s assistant before she’d started working full time at the brewery. Bec gave him a chilly nod, her lips moving into a smile that looked forced.

He managed a grim smile of his own. They needed to start behaving like normal co-workers instead of enemy states. “Hi, Bec. How’s your stout coming?”

She raised an eyebrow. “It’s coming. I tasted it a couple of days ago. Should be ready to drink in another month or so.”

“How long has it been in the barrel?”

“A little over a year. I started the aging just after we got the brewery going again.” She gave him a look he’d grown to recognize. Just after we came back from the disaster you caused by running out on us, jerk boy. He chose to ignore it.

“Good. I’ll look forward to tasting it.” He turned toward the kitchen. He could at least have a quick conversation with Peaches before he started his janitor duties.

“How’s your honey stuff coming?”

He turned. Bec’s expression still had an undertone of hostility, but it was a normal question for once. “I’m just getting started. I’m hoping to get it into the fermenter by the end of the week.”

“You’re adding the honey, then?”

He nodded. “Some of it. I don’t want the yeast to consume all the sugars.”

“Sounds unique.”

It was almost the longest conversation about beer he’d had with her since he’d come back to Antero. The longest that didn’t end up circling back to his betrayal. “Do you have any advice?”

Her eyes widened. “Me? No. I’ve never done anything with honey. I just know people who have.”

“If you think of anything I should be careful about, let me know.”

She nodded, her eyes still faintly suspicious. “I’ll think about it.”

Peaches emerged from the kitchen in her usual flurry of warmth and cinnamon. She gave him one of her miraculous smiles. “Hi. I didn’t hear you come in.”

He smiled back at her. It was impossible not to. “I just got here.”

“Come to the kitchen before you start working. Carol left some cookies for you.” She gave him another smile then swung through the kitchen door.

He watched it close behind her, the remains of his idiot grin slowly fading. Bec’s eyebrows were up again. “Carol’s baking you cookies?”

“Carol’s baking everybody cookies,” Ruth corrected. “She’s into a baking phase, thanks to Peaches. They’re actually pretty good, and they sell like crazy. I’m giving her a cut of the profits.” She glanced back at Colin. “I should warn you today’s experiment involved dried cranberries and pistachios. Not bad, but not as big a hit as her chocolate chip.”

He shrugged. “Cookies are cookies. Carol does a good job. I’ll eat anything she leaves, believe me.”

Ruth’s lips edged up. “I noticed Peaches made extra chili at noon.”

“Chili and cookies. Sounds like a winning combination.” He grinned at Ruth, only to see Bec frown in his direction. What now, Bec? Some other unwritten rule I’ve violated? “I better get to work. Nice talking to you.”

Ruth leaned after him. “Would you check the cheese room door while you’re at it? It’s started squeaking.”

“Sure thing.” He headed for the utility closet, ignoring Bec as much as possible. He’d been as polite as he could be under the circumstances. If she still wanted a fight, she’d have to find it somewhere else.

What if she wants an apology? Another one?

He was pretty much through with that. He’d told her he was sorry for the past. He’d told Liam. He’d told Angel. He’d tell Harlan Cooper and Abe Parsons, their other two suppliers, if he ever ran into them. He’d even told Ruth and Peaches, although they hadn’t been affected the way Bec and Liam had.

There had to be an end to it. He couldn’t go on apologizing forever. At some point, Bec had to accept he was part of Antero Brewing. At some point, they all had to move on.

Didn’t they?

He grabbed his cleaning supplies and headed for the kitchen. At least he’d say goodbye to Peaches before she took off for the night. With his chili.

…

Peaches was getting ready to go when Ruth stepped into the restaurant from the cheese room. “I thought you’d already gone home.”

Ruth shook her head, running a hand through her short dark hair where it had been smashed down by her cap. “I wanted to talk to you before I left. I finally read through your business plan.”

Peaches ignored the sudden jolt of nerves, leaning back against the counter. “Oh? What did you think?”

Ruth sighed, staring down at the floor as she folded her arms.

Uh oh.

“You did your homework, that’s for sure. The figures on sales and expenditures are great. I was pretty sure we were doing more business than last year, but I hadn’t yet seen it spelled out. And you’re right, we are turning away customers. I’ve seen the crowds, too.”

Peaches took a breath. “But?”

“But…” Ruth gave her a dry smile. “I’m just not sure about how much expanding into Roger’s space would cost. It means either renting the building or buying it outright. I need to do a little pricing of options, maybe talk to Wyatt about how much the brewpub renovation is costing. I guess I still need to feel like the increase in sales would be enough to justify it.”

“I could do another projection,” Peaches said slowly. She wasn’t great at the economic stuff, but she could talk to Roger about leasing options.

Ruth shook her head. “You’ve done a good job with the projections already. I don’t need you to do more. I just need to think harder about it myself. But I wanted you to know that I did read your plan. And I am thinking about it.”

“Good enough.” Peaches managed a smile, fighting down the ache of disappointment in her gut. “Let me know if you need any more information.”

“I will. Thanks, Peaches. It was good work.” Ruth patted her shoulder a little absently as she pushed herself to her feet.

Well, that’s it. Peaches watched her go, biting her lip. She’d managed to convince herself that once Ruth looked at her plan, she’d realize how much sense it made. She’d look at the numbers and be convinced.

She didn’t say no. She also hadn’t said yes. And she hadn’t sounded enthusiastic, either. Peaches sighed. There was always the other part of her plan, the “wow dessert” that would get them national recognition when the Denver foodies wrote about it in their blogs and talked up the Salty Goat as a place to go. Maybe it would convince Ruth to go big.

Assuming she could come up with something. Right now, she was out of ideas and out of excitement. Maybe she should just go grab some chili for dinner.