CHAPTER 15
Tally
Sunday morning, I wake up determined to fix things.
With my mother. With Walker. With the farm.
Unfortunately, however, when I make it downstairs, I can’t find Walker anywhere.
And after traipsing across the farm, I realize that my mother isn’t in her cottage, either.
So I settle for coffee at Rosie’s. I could use a pick-me-up after yesterday and, to be honest, I need my best friend.
The first thing I notice when I make the right toward Rosie’s property is the number of cars that fill her parking lot. It’s only nine a.m. What are all these people doing here?
The second thing I see is my sister’s old Toyota Camry.
I remember the day Daddy handed her the keys.
I was fifteen and thought my sister was the coolest person in the world.
That fact grew exponentially when she told me I could sit shotgun and we took off from the farm.
Before then, the farthest I’d ever gone was Mabel’s Bakery.
But on that October day, Penny and I drove for hours through New England in search of the perfect fall foliage.
Listening to Incubus and Coldplay while I looked out the window at the passing trees and the coastline, I realized there was an entire world outside of Hope Harbor. A world I wanted to explore.
My feet quicken as I head inside in search of answers. I bypass the to-go coffee window to scour the bar for my sister or best friend. They’re definitely here, though there’s not one person in the open room.
A melodic laugh that I’d recognize anywhere pulls me to the left, where I spot Rosie’s signature red hair. She’s standing outside, on the back porch, next to Penny, a coffee cup in hand and laughing at something my sister just said.
What are the two of them doing together? And why didn’t they invite me?
Penny spots me first and smiles in surprise. “Hey! You came to the farmers market! I wasn’t sure if you got my text since you never replied.”
I reach for my phone, only to realize I don’t have it on me. Shit. I hope I didn’t leave it in the fields last night. “Yeah, I don’t actually know where it is. What are you guys doing?”
Rosie takes a sip from her cup, a coy smile curling her lips. “Drinking.”
Penny rolls her eyes before taking a sip out of her pastel pink mug that says THIS IS DEFINITELY COFFEE.
“Why are you guys being weird? And where can I get some coffee?”
“Oh, this isn’t coffee,” Rosie says.
“Huh?”
Penny giggles as she tips her cup forward and I spot the green juice.
“It’s green mimosas,” Rosie mumbles, “because it’s St. Patrick’s Day!”
Aha.
“Besides,” she continues, “we always have mimosas on Sundays. They help us get through the farmers market. Well, that and that.” Her chin lifts in the direction they’d been gazing before.
I follow her eyes to a row of tables. Behind each one is a different man wearing a flannel shirt and Wranglers.
One table has jams on it while another boasts leather goods next to a stand of pottery.
“It’s like a meat market for hungry women,” I mumble, my mouth watering. Apparently, I’m starving.
“Yup.” Rosie pops the p and then licks her lips.
“The market was Penny’s idea. A way to drum up business for the brewery.
” She grins at my sister in appreciation, and a sense of pride swells within me at everything they’ve accomplished since I’ve been gone.
“I’d say your farm has the best setup, though. ”
My eyes cut down the line in search of my mother. When I spot her talking to a man in a cowboy hat, his body facing away from me so I can only make out the way his jeans mold to his ass, I smile. That is one fine cowboy.
“Oh, did she hire a cowboy to bring attention to her table?” I glance at my sister. “That’s a pretty good idea, Pen.”
Rosie’s head falls back as she lets out a loud laugh. “That’s not a cowboy! That’s Walker.”
My body heats as I realize I was just checking out the bane of my existence. Dammit, why does the man have to be everywhere? And why does he have such a nice ass?
“Okay. I’m going to need one of those mimosas now,” I grumble, looking away from the display for our farm.
Rosie wasn’t wrong; ours is the best table.
It’s covered in magenta and baby blue peonies, my favorite dahlias that dazzle anyone who sees them because of the pink and peach hues that sprout from one petal to the next, and of course a few bundles of freshly cut daffodils.
The stunning array of flowers brightens up the entire market and attracts a large crowd.
“I got you covered,” Rosie says with a wink before disappearing inside.
I turn back to the stand, and my gaze is immediately drawn to the man I’m trying to ignore.
“Are we going to talk about it?” Penny eyes me over her cup.
“Oh, you mean the great deflowering?” I say with a roll of my eyes.
Penny snorts. Okay, maybe I need to come up with a better name than that for the untarping of the tulips. But I haven’t had any caffeine yet, and I feel like complete shit.
“It was so bad,” I mutter as I watch my mother and Walker.
They are both smiling, though I’m sure it’s all a ruse.
There’s no way they aren’t still pissed off at me and stressed about what is going to happen next.
“I’m going to go to the grocery store later so I can load up on every ingredient I can find to make an apology cupcake or fifty for Walker.
And I’m going to bake Mom her favorite cake, too. ”
Basically, my goal in life is to sweet-talk my way out of trouble.
“Oh, can you bring some by the bookstore after? I miss your cupcakes.”
“You don’t deserve them. You made me do bad things yesterday.”
Penny’s jaw drops open and her mouth flaps like a dead fish. “At no time did I tell you to uncover the damn tulips. You were supposed to talk to Rosie! Did she tell you to uncover the tulips?”
No. In fact, she pretty much told me it was a bad idea from the start. But I’m not letting Penny off the hook so easily. “You should have seen Mom’s face, Pen. This is so, so bad.”
Penny sighs. “She should have been honest with us. What was she thinking?”
I roll my teeth over my bottom lip. I have no idea why my mother is being so secretive, but I wish she’d stop. I wish she’d let Penny and me help. “What are we going to do?”
Penny shakes her head. “I’ll do some research on other ways to attract brides. And we’ll bring back the pumpkin patch and the maze this fall. Maybe talk to Walker about stuff for Christmas?”
All things I didn’t plan on being here for. Shit. I can’t leave now, knowing how much trouble our farm is in. But how the hell do I stay? What would I even do? I’ve been nothing but a nuisance since I arrived. I’m sure the last thing Walker wants me to do is stay.
I stare at the man in question for a beat longer, attempting to ignore the pull I feel whenever he’s in my immediate vicinity.
“So what’s with the hat?” I ask Penny.
“Cowboys are all the rage nowadays on BookTok,” she says, like I have a clue what she’s talking about. My face must say exactly that because she sighs. “Well, and aliens. Women find the cowboy hat hot.”
“But we don’t have animals on the farm.” Even as I say it, I can’t help but smile. The grumpy asshole who hates being called a cowboy is wearing a cowboy hat.
My smile gets bigger when Rosie returns with a matching pastel purple mug with THIS IS DEFINITELY COFFEE scrawled across it. Before I can take a sip, she tips her mug in my direction. “Admit that you find the cowboy hot, or suffer bad sex for ten years.”
I clink my glass against hers. “The cowboy hat is hot.”
Rosie’s loud laugh rings out across the market, and Walker’s head snaps in our direction.
The second our eyes meet, I’m reminded of the way he looked at me last night.
Of how my body vibrated with want as he pulled me against his chest. How those eyes of his warmed as he stared at my mouth.
How the words Fuck it were on the tip of my tongue right before a car door slammed and he jolted like he’d been shot.
I’ve got a lot of things to fix, but the way Walker is staring at me isn’t one of them.
I wiggle my fingers in greeting, and as I take my first sip of what is definitely not coffee, my mood, for the first time since I arrived in Hope Harbor, is positively giddy.