Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
AUSTIN
My SUV rumbled over the gravel lot, tires crunching in a steady rhythm that matched the thrum of contentment low in my chest. Outside the windshield, the world looked dipped in gold—maple trees flaming with orange and crimson, sunlight slipping through their branches in hazy sheets.
From the back seat, Winnie’s voice rose, bright and uncontainable.
“Do you think they have the giant pumpkins yet? The ones so big they need a wheelbarrow?”
“I don’t know, bug,” I said, throwing a grin over my shoulder as I eased the car into a parking spot. “You think you’re strong enough to carry one of those?”
“I’m very strong,” she declared, flexing her small arms with all the seriousness of a bodybuilder. “Look at these arms. I’m basically a superhero.”
I clicked my tongue. “I don’t know . . .” I teased.
“Besides,” she said with a shrug, “I have you.”
“Fair point.” My grin widened as aching warmth spread from the center of my chest to my limbs.
As I cut the engine, the faint scent of hay and woodsmoke drifted through the cracked window.
Star Harbor Family Farm sprawled out ahead of us like something pulled from a postcard—kids racing toward a towering tire mountain, hayrides lining up with red-cheeked families bundled in scarves and jackets, a farm stand surrounded by pumpkins in every shade of orange.
The smell of cinnamon sugar doughnuts hung thick in the air, undercut by the earthy sweetness of straw bales stacked high along the barn.
The bright-blue barn itself loomed half finished beyond the pumpkin patch, its frame sturdy but already hinting at what it would become. I felt a flicker of pride tug at my chest.
“Wow.” Selene’s voice was thick with wonder as she looked out the window at the barn. “I haven’t been here in a while. You guys are making a lot of progress.”
“It’s really coming together,” I said as I cut the engine, nodding toward the construction site.
Selene’s gaze drifted to the barn, her expression softening. “I know how much this place means to them. It’s incredible to see Elodie’s dreams coming true like this.”
“It feels special, right?” I agreed, but then I hesitated, a smile tugging at my mouth. “Cal’s added a few quiet touches no one really talks about yet.”
Her brow arched slightly in curiosity.
“He had the crew carve Levi’s initials into one of the main support beams. Said he wanted him to feel like he’d left his mark on the place too.
And there’s a little alcove in the dining room where they’re hanging a framed photo of the barn raising—the whole community out there lifting beams together. Even the Amish neighbors.”
Selene’s lips curved, and she instinctively found Winnie’s hand, which was clutching at her coat hem. “That’s really beautiful. So much history packed into four walls.”
“Yeah.” My voice came out softer than I meant it to. “It feels good—working on something that means this much to people.”
Winnie’s voice piped up before either of us could say more. “Will there be dessert?” she asked, craning her neck for a better look at the barn.
“You know your uncle Cal . . . best desserts in Star Harbor,” I said solemnly. “That’s a requirement.”
Selene laughed, the sound warm and unguarded, and I felt it settle low in my chest like it belonged there.
Together we wandered away from the parking lot, but we didn’t make it far before Elodie appeared. Her canvas work pants were streaked with dirt and tucked into a pair of green rubber boots, a grin splitting her face.
“Well, well. Looks like Winnie’s dragging you into fall festivities, huh?” she teased, hands planted on her hips.
“She’s convincing,” I said, smiling as I hooked my thumbs into the pockets of my jacket. My nails—still painted sparkly purple—caught in the sunlight, and Elodie’s gaze flicked there before her grin deepened.
“Convincing and stylish,” she said with a wink.
“Hey, I don’t do anything halfway,” I replied.
Winnie giggled, already bouncing on her toes. “Aunt Elodie! Where are the best pumpkins? Tell me the secret!”
Elodie crouched slightly, lowering her voice like she was imparting classified information.
“Go all the way to the back, near the corn maze. Everyone picks over the ones in front. That’s where you’ll find the hidden gems—the big round ones and the knobby warty ones too.”
Winnie’s eyes went wide. “The warty ones are the best. They look like witches.”
“Exactly,” Elodie agreed.
Selene gave her sister a hug before we had to scramble behind Winnie.
As we headed into the patch, the sound of laughter and crunching leaves followed us.
Winnie darted ahead, already scouting her options like a tiny general surveying her troops.
Selene trailed after her, phone in hand, snapping pictures as Winnie scrambled over vines and tugged on stems.
I kept pace behind them, taking in the way the sun caught the edges of Selene’s hair, the faint flush on her cheeks from the crisp air. She glanced back once, her eyes warm and almost wistful as they met mine.
My stomach dropped.
She doesn’t even realize she’s already my whole damn world.
We didn’t make it far before Winnie darted toward a squat, lopsided pumpkin that looked like it had been left behind for a reason. Its skin was a mottled orange and green, covered in warts like a witch’s nose.
“This one!” she announced, throwing her arms out dramatically. “It’s perfect.”
I crouched beside her, studying it with an exaggerated seriousness that made her giggle. “Perfect, huh? Are you sure about that? It looks like it’s been through a lot.”
“It’s special,” she said, placing both hands on its misshapen sides. “No one else wanted it, so I’m gonna love it extra hard.”
Something twisted in my chest as I looked at her—this fierce, tender little kid who seemed to love the overlooked things instinctively.
“Then I guess this is the one,” I said, and Winnie’s grin widened as if I’d just told her she’d won the lottery. I looked up at Selene. “What do you think, Mom?”
She was snapping pictures on her phone from a few steps back, her laughter warm in the cool autumn air. “I think it’s perfect.”
“Would you like me to get a picture of all three of you?”
We turned to see an older woman standing nearby, her hands tucked into her puffer vest and a knowing smile curving her lips. She gestured toward the pumpkin Winnie was hugging. “That looks like a memory worth keeping.”
Selene hesitated, but before she could respond, Winnie piped up. “Yes! A family picture!”
My chest went tight at the word, but I smiled anyway, trying to play it cool. “Sure. Why not?”
Selene passed her phone over, and we knelt beside Winnie, the pumpkin nestled between us like a fourth member of the group. Winnie leaned her head against my shoulder without a second thought, and Selene’s arm brushed mine as she shifted closer for the shot.
The woman took a few photos, then handed the phone back with a wink. “Looks like a keeper to me.”
I glanced at the screen as Selene thanked her. Winnie’s gap-toothed smile beamed up at us, her tiny fingers gripping the pumpkin. Selene’s hair was windblown, her smile unguarded. And there I was, in the middle of it, looking every bit like I belonged.
The sight nearly knocked the air from my lungs. Even as I warned myself this was almost too perfect to be true, I couldn’t stop staring at that photo. “Send that to me, would you?”
Selene smiled and nodded.
I bent and scooped up the pumpkin like it weighed nothing, cradling it in the crook of my arm as we headed back toward the farm stand.
Winnie skipped beside me, her boots crunching over fallen leaves. “You carry it like it doesn’t weigh anything at all,” she said, tilting her head up at me with a grin.
“Guess I’ve been working out just for this moment,” I teased, flexing my biceps dramatically and shooting Selene a playful wink, just to watch the color rise in her cheeks. “You think this one’s going to need its own bedroom?”
Winnie giggled, the sound like wind chimes in the crisp air.
The woman who’d taken our photo was still standing nearby, still deciding on her own choice of pumpkin with what appeared to be her grandkids running circles around her.
As Selene fell into step beside me, the woman gave Selene a gentle nudge and a knowing smile. “Looks like you also found yourself a keeper.”
Heat crept up Selene’s neck, painting her cheeks the faintest shade of rose. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word out, Winnie piped up from her spot, skipping a few paces ahead.
“He’s my nanny!” she declared proudly, as if I’d just been knighted.
The woman’s brows shot up in surprise, but her smile only deepened. “Well, lucky you, sweet girl.”
Selene’s lips twitched like she was trying not to laugh—or cringe—and her eyes darted to mine for a half second before she looked away.
I bit back a grin and adjusted the pumpkin in my arms.
“Best damn nanny in Star Harbor,” I said lightly, and Winnie let out a little giggle.
The air smelled faintly of cinnamon and fried dough as we followed Winnie’s determined little march toward the tire mountain—a towering pile of massive black tractor tires stacked in a pyramid built into a hill. It was well over twice her size. I gently placed the pumpkin at our feet.
Winnie dropped her jacket at the base like a knight shedding armor. “Austin! Watch this!” she called as she scrambled onto the first tire, her tiny hands gripping the edges. “I’m the queen of the mountain!”
I chuckled and moved closer, ready to catch her if she slipped. “Queen, huh? Should I kneel or bow?”
“Both.” Her legs pumped as she climbed higher.
Selene hung back a few steps, her phone angled as she snapped pictures, laughter slipping past her lips in soft bursts. I caught her gaze once—her eyes warm, almost wistful—and electricity crackled beneath my skin.
I steadied Winnie with a hand at her back as she reached for the top tire, her boots slipping slightly.