So this chapter came faster than I was expecting :) I've been in a Harvest Moon mood this weekend I guess. Which is good cause it means more chapters! So as you can see, this is starting off kind of slow-ish as far as relationships go. But I think we will see some development in either the next chapter or the one after that. Thanks again for reading guys!

PS sorry for any spelling mistakes or simple errors. I'm too lazy to go back and re-read :)

Chase's P.O.V

"Dammit, Chase, watch what you're doing!" I turned quickly to see Yolanda running at me with a towel flopping through the air. It wasn't until she had successfully put out the small grease fire that had started on the stove that I realized something was burning.

"Shit," I mumbled, picking the pan off of the stove and whipping it over to the sink. A flame flicked up and cut through the skin on my thumb, and I held back another curse as the pan fell into the sink with a clang. Naturally, I turned on the cold water, letting it run over my fingers as it tried it's best to soothe my burn.

"What is with you, Chase? One more slip out like that and you're going home for the night." Yolanda stormed back over to the other side of the counter, where she had been preparing the deserts for that night.

"Sorry," I said half-heartedly. I turned back to the ground beef in the pan and tried to salvage it the best that I could.

The truth was I didn't know what was wrong with me. For some reason after Molly left earlier that day I just couldn't keep my mind on the food. For the first time in my life, I wasn't 100% focused on worked. And it sucked. Part of me hated her for that.

It was almost dinner rush, and soon we would be bombarded with practically the entire town. I dreading it because I got really annoyed at most of the people on Waffle Island, but at the same time my chest fluttered a little at the thought of getting to see Molly again. It was all I could think about; that night I had found her in the rain and taken her to stay with me. Ever since that night things had been different. I had been different.

When I first moved to Waffle Island, I had one thing on my mind and that was my cooking. Being able to prepare meals alongside Yolanda was both annoying as hell and a huge honor. She was one of the world's best, and I hadn't traveled thousands of miles across an ocean to live a boring, typical life. I came to cook, and that was all.

Molly seemed to be changing that though. After I came back from studying in other countries, I was content with what my life was. It was disciplined and focused solely on my own aspirations. But after the other night, it seemed to me like my mind was spending more time wandering to what her hair smelled like and that concentrating look she had on her face when she was reading than my work. I had never felt that way before, that giddiness I felt whenever the front door clicked open and I whipped around to see if she was there. It was all so ridiculous.

At about seven o'clock most of the townsfolk were finishing up their meals, and Yolanda was throwing the few leftovers we had into a basket. The bell above the door chimed and I like I had done all night, I glanced over to see who it was. Owen, that giant, cheery blacksmith walked in and nodded as Luke called out his name from the other corner of the room.

"Hello, Owen," Yolanda sang from behind me. "How are you doing this evening? How was your day?"

"Oh you know, tiring and long. You about you?" Owen took a seat at the counter and leaned forward onto his elbows.

"More of the same, dear. More of the same." Yolanda had this thing with Owen where even though she was ancient, she flirted with him like she was twenty again. Owen was always kind back, asking her questions and listening intently as she rambled on about some new recipe she tried, or how horrible her lessons with Maya were going. Owen always through in the occasional remark on the subject, the kind people use to show that they actually are listening and do actually care. I think Yolanda saw that as him flirting back, but in reality that's just who Owen was: a genuinely nice guy.

"I'm guessing you want a rice cocktail," I said coolly, wiping off the leftover crumbs in front of him.

"Yup," he replied.

When I turned around I wondered if I was just hearing things or if there really was some rigidity to his voice. Normally he would have responded with, "You know me to well, man" or "But of course". So that one worded answer made me cringe a little. I brought back his cocktail and slid it down in front of him, waiting for some sort of response. I got nothing though.

I turned around, unaffected by Owen's, new, weird personality, and didn't even bother to notice that he had left the bar to join Luke and Bo in their usual corner table. Instead, I just finished putting the rest of the lasagna in a pan to take home for dinner, and finished cleaning the massive pile of dishes in the sink.

"So I heard poor Molly hurt her foot," Yolanda said to me a while later. The dining room was mostly cleared out, just Luke and Owen left, and Yolanda always took the time to gossip at the end of a dinner shift.

"She fell or something," I replied. For the first time in my life I wished that Maya were there so I wouldn't have to go along with all of the senseless talking. But I would do just about anything to keep Yolanda happy at the end of the day. That way she wouldn't take her anger out on me.

"Poor thing. It must be hard to have to do all of that work by herself with two good feet, let alone a sprained ankle." Yolanda picked up a basket from the cabinets underneath her and through a red-checkered towel into it. "I want you to gather up whatever we have left over and bring it to her tonight," she ordered.

"What? Why me?" I asked quickly.

She eyed me as she took off her apron, as if she was suspicious about my response.

"I mean, I have a lot of work left to do I don't really feel like walking all of the way out to her farm."

"The dishes are almost done, and you can just clean the tables in the morning," she replied. She tossed her apron onto the hook by the doorway and headed for the stairs. "Goodnight, Chase." She said it as if to make a point that the conversation was over.

"Goodnight," I grumbled.

After putting the last of the dishes away I walked over to the basket she had put out, and the small amount of food she placed next to it. She had some crusts of bread, a thing of asparagus and a cold potpie. What was she thinking? This was nowhere near enough food for a decent meal. Without thinking, I sighed and threw the potpie in the oven, grabbed a loaf of bread from the basket of freshly baked stuff above the counter, and started on a second potpie.

It didn't take long for the first one to warm up, and while waiting for the last one to cook I through everything into the basket, along with some corn and carrots, and cleaned up the dining room while I waited for the food to be done. It was eight, and as soon as Luke and Owen were gone I could leave. I swept the floor and tried not to listen to their hushed whispered. My mind was preoccupied anyway, because I had no clue what I was going to say to Molly when I saw her. I was never one for kind gestures that made me go out of my way, so I had no idea how to act.

"Money's on the table, Chase," Luke called out from the front door. "Have a good night." He smiled and waved as he and Owen walked out into the darkness.

"You too," I called back.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind them I dropped the broom against the wall and hurried over to the kitchen. The potpie was done, and as I moved it over to the basket I suddenly realized that time was running out, and I had to think of what I was really going to say to Molly.

By the time I got the Inn closed up and I was walking toward Molly's farm it was about eight thirty. I wondered if she had even eaten, and if I was just going to embarrass myself by bringing her more food. But there was nothing to be embarrassed about. All I did was take orders from Yolanda. It was her idea, not mine.

I repeated that to myself over and over again as I walked up to Molly's door and knocked. "It's open," she called. The wood muffled her voice, and as weird as it felt I turned the knob and pushed the door open just a little bit. After peaking my head inside I saw her sitting at the table, her leg resting on another chair.

"Uh, hey," I said as I opened the door the rest of the way.

"Hey." She looked shocked and confused, and I felt even more embarrassed than I thought I would. I tried to shake it off, waiting awkwardly in the doorway for her to instruct me to do otherwise. "Uh, come in." She started to stand but I stepped forward, as if I wanted to force her back down. Like standing would be the end of the world.

"It's okay," I practically shouted. "You don't have to get up." I kept my eyes focused on her swollen ankle, and wondered how much it was hurting her. "Yolanda jut wanted me to bring over some extra food we had after closing today."

Molly glanced at the basket in my hand as she sat back down. She looked happy. That kind of happy you look when you're completely starving and see food for the first time.

I closed the door behind me and walked over to where she sat, placing the basket in front of her. "I figured you would be tired after working all day, and I know you said it's fine, but I figured your ankle would still be hurting."

"Oh, well yeah I was just about to make dinner."

I knew that wasn't true. "I'm sure you were." I could feel myself smirk at her and tried to stop, but since keeping calm failed I just turned around and headed for the door. "But enjoy. You can thank Yolanda tomorrow if you want, it was her idea." I felt my face get hot when I noticed that while it was Yolanda's idea, I had gone kind of out of my way to make Molly things that Yolanda didn't ask me to make. "I'll see you around." I kept my eyes focused on the field outside of her door as I opened it. I couldn't let her see the pink I could feel on my cheeks.

"Um, thanks." Right as I shut the door I could just barely make out the rest of her sentence. "Have a good night."

I let out a deep breath as if I had been holding it in the entire time I was in there with her. My feet stayed glued to the spot out in front of her door, and I tried not to replay the incredibly awkward scene of what just happened in my head. Finally, I started for my house. Cursing the day that I ever met that girl, and ever let her make me feel so dumb.