CHAPTER 16
Walker
“You like the daffodils?” Gail asks Fletcher’s little boy, Henry, who’s hiding behind his chocolate Lab. Henry doesn’t say much, which only makes me like him more. He’s like my kindred spirit.
Fletcher signs the words that Gail just asked, and I remember that Henry is deaf, though the piece from his cochlear implant is barely visible under his trademark ball cap. I’d guess he’s around four years old; he looks younger than Quinn but older than a toddler.
We’re working the farmers market that Rosie hosts at the brewery every weekend, and thank God we’ve had a great showing.
If the crowd keeps up, I may even need to go back to the farm and grab a few more bouquets, which is good because we’ll need to sell a shit ton to make up for the disaster that was last night.
“You must be happy to have your daughter back home,” Fletcher says to Gail in the same way he says everything: with a big smile and his attention duly focused on whomever he’s speaking with in that moment. Fletcher is the quintessential mayor, and everyone in town loves him.
“It’s always good to see her, but I doubt she’ll stick around too long.
Like my husband always said, you can’t keep a wildflower in one place.
” Gail laughs lightly, though I can sense pain behind her words.
I think they both missed Tally terribly when she was gone, and I’m not sure Gail knows how to handle that feeling now that her youngest daughter is here but Peter’s not.
As much as I want Tally to go back to work so my sister can have the job, I do feel for Gail.
The first thing I did this morning was go out to Gail’s cottage to talk to her about having an honest conversation with her daughters.
They need to know the truth. If she’d told them to begin with, Tally never would have uncovered the damn tulips.
Then again, I’m guilty of the same damn thing.
Though, to be fair, Gail is keeping me from telling the girls what is really going on.
Her and the ironclad NDA I signed when I first got myself involved in this whole mess.
She said she’d think about it. I guess that’s the best I can do.
I’m surprised the girls haven’t made more of an effort to come over and say hello yet.
Maybe offer to help. Instead, they’ve stayed on the porch with Rosie all morning, catching up and drinking coffee like it’s water.
I’ve seen Rosie go inside to refill their cups at least three times. Not that I’m watching them.
I let out a sigh. At least Tally isn’t wearing another one of her spandex outfits that makes my dick hard.
Today, she’s wearing a long lavender floral dress with buttons all the way down her body.
It has a little bow tied between her breasts that, if I was closer, I’m sure I’d be studying way too intently.
My gaze tracks over in the girls’ direction again, but now the porch is empty. Though my stomach pinches in disappointment, I don’t want to think too hard on why. Instead, I focus on the mayor’s conversation.
“Have you considered vegetables?” Fletcher is asking Gail.
“We’re not set up for it,” I respond quickly, before Gail gets another thought in her head.
Peter told me she used to do that all the time.
She’d hear about something like composting and go out and buy everything to set it up.
It just made another project for Peter. And when he was already running a farm with hundreds of thousands of flower bulbs, it meant he was always in over his head.
I don’t know how he did it on his own for as long as he did.
Especially without the right equipment. Fortunately, after working on several different farms, I know a group of guys who all help each other out in season.
Planting that many bulbs is far easier with a tractor and ten guys than by hand, by yourself.
“Well, if there is anything the town can do to get you set up for that, you just call,” Fletcher says.
“Maybe in the fall I’ll reach out. Thank you.”
Gail beams like I’ve just made her the greatest promise. Fletcher’s face lights up, too.
“He really does have good bone structure,” Tally’s voice breaks through our conversation.
“Yup. And he wears the hell out of that hat,” Rosie croons.
“Give me that camera, I’ll get it,” Penny says.
My brows pull together as I whip my head toward the three women now camped out in front of our table. Their heads are tilted to the side as they study … me. God knows why.
Penny is the first to break as she reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone. “Could you just turn back that way? The sun is hitting perfectly, and I think you might have even smiled.”
“No. Definitely wasn’t a smile. More of a lip curl,” Tally says. “But we don’t want him smiling. Don’t want to give false impressions. Right, cowboy?”
I growl and almost reach for my hat to toss it to the dirt. “Not a cowboy.”
She snorts. “You sure about that?”
“I’m trying to do what’s best for the farm,” I say slowly and with a hint of threat in my tone. Tally’s eyes flare. Her long hair blows in the wind, and while my nose twitches to try to inhale the scent I’m sure is floating through the air, I realize I’ve overplayed my hand again.
“Well, by all means, since you want to do what’s best for the farm, Cowboy, smile for the camera.”
And that’s how I end up spending the next two hours posing for the farm’s damn social media with a cowboy hat and a shovel.
—
“My personal favorite is the one where you’re lying in the mud.” I pull the phone away from my ear because my sister’s cackle is so loud it hurts.
“You see what I’m dealing with. Can you come work here now?”
I pause on the steps outside the house, not wanting Tally to overhear my conversation.
I have no idea where she disappeared to after the photoshoot from hell, but I’ve stayed out of the house for as long as I can.
I’m starving and my body is tired. I need a shower, an ice-cold beer, and silence.
But I have a feeling that when I go inside, I’ll get none of those things.
“Not a chance. You’ve got Tally there, and from the looks of it, she’s got everything covered.”
“‘From the looks of it’?” I pull my baseball cap off my head and swipe at the sweat that’s forming just from thinking about the damn woman.
“What have you seen that gives you any indication that she knows shit about weddings? Were you and I not part of the same conversation last night when we came upon her destroying the tulips?”
My sister’s laughter drifts through the phone and grabs me by the chest. Shit.
I haven’t heard her sound this free in a long time.
She’s normally too busy rushing around between jobs and Quinn’s activities to focus on anything else.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you so tied up about a woman,” she says.
“I’m not.” I suck in a deep breath in a bid to calm myself. I don’t like being short with Billie. Plus, I don’t want to give her any reason not to move here.
“I’m not tied up. I’m—” I grapple for words.
“You’re tripping over yourself, you like her so much.”
“The last thing I feel for that woman is like.” My mouth sours on the word.
“Oh, more like want?” she singsongs.
“Billie.”
My sister pauses, then her voice softens. “It’s been five years, Jesse. It’s okay to put down those walls a bit and open yourself to falling for someone again.”
I let out a long sigh. I don’t like thinking of Gina or what she did to me all those years ago. “I’ve got a farm to run. Wedding season to get through—”
“And don’t forget that modeling career,” she teases.
I smile. I can’t help it. I like hearing my sister like this. “Even if I didn’t have any of those things, I assure you, Tally Darling is the last person I’d date.” I pause, trying to ignore the way the lie feels on my lips. “Please, Billie, this would be so much better with you here.”
“Quinn has to get through the school year, anyway,” she says under her breath. I hear footsteps and then the sound of a door shutting. “Have you talked to her about what Gail did yet? Does she know about our grandfather and the land?”
Instinct has me looking around, as if somehow, someone can hear my sister’s soft voice through the phone.
It’s quiet except for the birds singing to one another in the cherry tree.
Soon enough, that tree will be sprouting beautiful pink-and-white petals and then it’ll make a mess that I have to clean up.
Because I’m the one who’s handling the farm.
I’m the one who’s responsible for it all. “I told Gail she needs to talk to her.”
“She needs to know, Jesse.” My sister’s tone is soft but chiding. She’s never been the type to raise her voice.
“It’s not my place,” I grumble. “Besides, I signed an NDA, remember?” Before my sister can respond, I change the subject and ask for an update on Quinn’s week ahead and then we make plans to have her come by for dinner this week.
After a few more minutes, we say our goodbyes and I slip the phone in my pocket to head inside.
As I do, the first thing I notice is the music playing loudly in the kitchen.
Taylor Swift, I think, with the hint of a pretty voice singing alongside.
The second thing I detect is the scent of dinner—something barbecued.
My stomach growls, and as if my body has no choice but to go to the singing siren, I find myself leaning against the kitchen wall, arms crossed, watching the wicked woman sway her hips as she dances between the stove and the counter, placing platters of food between two place settings in front of two stools.
Clearly she’s having someone over for dinner so I start to leave, ready to get back in my truck and head into town to grab a burger.
Though my stomach seems determined to find barbecue now.
“You’re home!” The happy lilt of her voice makes me pause, and my head whips in her direction, confused.