Chapter 14
On Saturday, Aubrey woke renewed. For the first time in weeks, she had a purpose. One that involved more than just doing job-related
damage control.
She dressed in a fitted brown tunic sweater, jeans, and slouchy ankle boots. Today marked her first day volunteering for Henderson’s
Harvest Days. And, she supposed, her third day dating Gallant Nobel.
Which sounded odd even to herself, so she focused on getting to her morning coffee meet-up on time.
The café was only a handful of blocks away, so she struck out on foot, tilting her face to soak up the cheery sunlight. High
above, the sky glowed turquoise. Even the steel mill looked less dour today, sending spurts of silver steam into the blue.
By the time the café on Ivy and Harkness came into view—Windy’s Place, read the script on the window—Aubrey felt light inside. She reached the door just as Megan pulled up in a maroon Jeep.
“Hey, you!” Megan hopped out and wrapped her in a hug. “Thanks for coming.”
“Thanks for inviting me.”
Inside, they took their place in line, and Aubrey snuck a sidelong glance. Megan was barely showing, and even then, probably only because of her diminutive stature. But there were other tells, like the airbrushed quality of her skin.
“You look phenomenal,” Aubrey said.
“Aww, thanks.” Megan blushed and smoothed her short dark locks. “No pregnant woman dislikes hearing that.”
They ordered coffees and claimed a table near the window, where Megan clasped Aubrey’s hands over the polished butcher-block.
“I’m so glad we’re finally catching up. I still can’t believe you’re here.”
“Me, neither. I think . . . I probably should’ve come back a long time ago. At the very least, I should’ve kept in touch.
Seeing you again has already made this entire trip worth it.”
A sheen sprang to Megan’s eyes.
“Hey, now. That wasn’t supposed to make you cry.”
Megan gave a wet laugh and wafted air toward her face. “Sorry. I get emotional at the drop of a hat these days. Hormones.
And believe me, I understand why you cut ties. I never held it against you. Though I did wonder how you were doing, out in
New York. Whether you . . . recovered or not.”
Well, that was as diplomatic a way of asking about Nick as any, Aubrey supposed. She reclaimed her hands and fiddled with
the swizzle stick in her cinnamon latte. “It took a while. Losing Nick was the worst thing that ever happened to me. Especially
because of how it happened. But then I went and did all the things I’d dreamed about. Got my doctorate, got a job doing something meaningful.
Now I actually make a living doing math all day.”
“So it all worked out.” Megan heaved a contented sigh. “And you’re going back to New York soon?”
“Yeah.” Aubrey summoned a smile. She would, come hell or high water. Already, she’d made decent headway on her manifesto. “I’m only here for a couple months. But enough about me. What about you? You’re married. You’re pregnant! Tell me everything.”
Megan’s inner light threatened to boil over as she gushed about meeting her husband, Kenzo, at a concert in Indianapolis a
decade prior. They’d been married seven years and were expecting their baby girl in the spring.
“I work at the steel mill, these days.” Megan patted her barely there belly. “Not on the line, obviously, but in HR. I like
it just fine, but honestly, I live for Harvest Days. There’s nothing like seeing the festival come together and knowing I made it happen.”
Aubrey chuckled. This was the Megan she remembered, who relished nothing more than putting her mark on things.
Megan leaned in. “And honestly, as volunteer coordinator, I do more than just organize the parade. I get to play fairy godmother,
too.”
Aubrey gave a puzzled smile. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m the one who assigns volunteers to each project, which is a lot more influential than it sounds. Last year, I paired
up Trina Nguyen and Melanie Farrow.”
“What?” Aubrey rocked back in her seat. “No way. Haven’t they hated each other since kindergarten?”
“They have.” Megan’s eyes gleamed. “Or should I say had. Now they’re inseparable. They’re even going into business together. Some kind of mineral cosmetics company.”
Aubrey blinked through her shock.
Megan pressed eager palms together. “And do you remember Pippa Huntington and Josh Bristol?”
“The shyest kids in school?”
“Yup. They’re married now, finally, after being secretly in love with each other for, I don’t know .
. . twenty years? They were both too scared to make the first move.
Until I put them on float-painting duty together.
” She exhaled against manicured fingernails and polished them on her sweater. “Thank you very much, Megan Shimamoto.”
A laugh worked loose from Aubrey’s throat. “Wow. But how do you decide? Who to pair up?”
“It’s a small town, you know? And I’m in HR. I hear things. Get to know people. See things in them they sometimes miss themselves.”
Aubrey shook her head in wonderment. She shouldn’t ask but couldn’t seem to help herself. “Does Nick work at the mill, still?”
“Mm-hmm.” Megan’s mouth curled on one side. “He’s usually down in the blast furnaces, so I don’t see him much. But I come
in contact with everyone, from time to time.”
Aubrey fiddled with her cup. God, she should really change the subject. But this was simple curiosity, now. A mere gathering
of data. “And what do you see in him? Is he . . . happy?”
The gleam in Megan’s eyes sharpened. “About as happy as you remember. Which is to say that very little about that man has changed since high school, except for the whole tall-dark-and-handsome thing he’s got going on
now. But I’m about ninety-nine percent sure he wants exactly the same thing he always did.”
Aubrey puzzled that over. It wasn’t really an answer.
“Why?” Megan’s look turned sly. “You aren’t still carrying a torch, are you?”
Aubrey spluttered into her drink. “No. What? No. I just . . . wish him well.”
One of Megan’s lacquered fingernails tapped out a rhythm against her mug. “That’s it?”
Aubrey fought the heat spreading up her neck. It wasn’t, not really, but she had no desire to add her hang-ups to Megan’s
mental catalog of Henderson drama. “That’s it. At this point, he’s no different to me than anyone else in this town.”
“Oh. Well, good to know.” Megan sipped her latte and licked away the foamy mustache. “But enough about him. Tell me about you. Having dinner at Sea and Be Seen with Gallant? That seems . . . serious.”
Aubrey occupied herself with her drink. A few days ago, she would’ve downplayed the date. But that had been before she’d spent
Thursday evening drinking wine with Gallant and staring into eyes almost too blue to be real. It was funny—in person, he seemed
different from the man who reminisced so poetically on paper. But now that she knew that side of him existed, it made the
real live person so much more compelling.
Still, what they were doing barely qualified as dating. They hadn’t even kissed yet. Aubrey had just fallen asleep on his
sofa and woken the next morning with a quilt tucked around her and a home-cooked breakfast on the table. Then, when Gallant
had dropped her off, he’d slipped another letter into her hand.
This time, she’d wasted no time ripping into the thick, creamy envelope. And the words inside . . .
Warmth rushed into her cheeks. She sipped, giving herself time to think. “We’re just . . . getting to know each other. Seeing
what happens.”
Megan’s lips thinned. “I have to say, that surprises me.”
“I know. And trust me, Gallant Nobel is the last guy I ever expected to date. But I think maybe we misjudged him. That there’s
more to him than any of us realized.”
Megan nodded along, clearly not sold.
“Why?” Aubrey ventured. She hadn’t forgotten the frosty exchange at the restaurant. “Do you . . . see things in him, too?”
“Nothing I’d share in polite company.”
She blinked. “That sounds ominous.”
Megan buried her face in a long swallow of milky latte.
“Sorry. I try not to gossip. He’s just .
. . Well, he sold us our house last year, and we found out afterward there was a bat infestation in the attic.
Which ended up being an incredibly expensive, incredibly stressful mess.
But it’s entirely possible Gallant didn’t actually know about it. That it was an honest mistake.”
Aubrey nodded, relieved. Was that all? “I’m sure he had no idea.”
“Probably not.” Megan stood briskly and straightened her sweater. “Anyway, we should get going. The volunteers are meeting
at eleven, and I don’t want to be late.”
Aubrey toted her empty mug to the bin and followed Megan out. She had no idea where they were headed, only that a local farmer
had volunteered his barn for the festival preparations.
In the car, Megan navigated out of town, onto a county road that apparently stretched forever.
“Wow,” Aubrey said. “There’s no way I can walk this next week.”
“No need. There’re plenty of volunteers who can give you a ride.”
“How about Gallant? Is he coming?”
“No.” Megan’s lips flattened. “He never volunteers.”
Aubrey studied her, but Megan was either very engrossed in driving in a perfectly straight line or didn’t want to pursue the
subject further.
She shrugged and turned to the window. Really, she didn’t care what anyone thought. Even she had missed Gallant’s complexity, and probably would have continued to, if not for that letter.
Twenty minutes later, they crunched to a stop in front of an ancient, majestic barn. Pastureland billowed away on either side,
an idyllic frame of russet and gold.
Aubrey hopped out. A few dozen people milled around, and she approached with Megan, though her ankle boots made for difficult going. The heels stabbed into the soft ground, so she made a mental note to buy sneakers in town.
Suddenly, a thought occurred. “What will I be doing, by the way? I mean, not that you’d do that match-makey thing with me, but—”
“Oh, no.” Megan’s eyes widened. “Absolutely not. I’ll put you exactly where I need you, regardless of who it’s with. I know
that’s what you’d want.”
“Right. Yes. Good.” Aubrey ducked her head. How ridiculous that she’d even brought it up.
“But since you ask . . .” Megan rubbed a hand across her chin and contemplated the sky. “You’ll probably be most useful building
float skeletons with Paige. That’s pretty mathematical, and she’s into that sort of thing, and . . .”
Aubrey dutifully absorbed the rest, relieved to hear an unfamiliar name. Not that she’d doubted Megan’s intentions, but still.
She had no desire to be paired up with someone she had history with.
But not to worry. Whoever this Paige woman was, if she liked math, she and Aubrey would get along just fine.