Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
My dad took a step closer. “Why didn’t you tell him your feelings, sweetheart?”
I closed my eyes and shrugged.
He pulled me into his arms, and it caused the dam of tears I’d been fighting back to break free. God, I was so flipping tired of crying. When would it stop?
“Shhh, it’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.”
Drawing back some, I looked up at my father. His gray hair was in a buzz cut, like it had been for my entire life. His soft brown eyes sparkled with nothing but love for me, and it filled me with such hope.
“I’ll never leave like that again; I swear to you,” I said. “I won’t turn my back on the farm, or on you or Mom.”
“On Bishop?” he asked with one raised brow.
“That one, I think, is going to be more complicated.”
“Do you know—” He abruptly stopped talking.
“About Jax? Yes, he told me. Well, Greer, Arabella, and Candace warned me about her first, then Bishop made it very clear he was dating someone.”
“You’ve spoken with Bishop?”
“Yes, earlier,” I said with a forced smile. “It went about as well as I’d expected it to. He wouldn’t let me talk to him at all, really.”
Daddy nodded. “Give him time, pumpkin. He was pretty torn up after the divorce, just like you were.”
I drew my head back in confusion.
He winked. “I might have gone to Boston a few times to check up on you.”
“What?” I said with a gasp. “I never knew you came to Boston.”
“Your mother told me you needed to find your own way back. But I’ll admit, I was pretty angry with you. I’m sorry for the cold greeting I gave you the other day. I know better.”
I shook my head. “I don’t blame you for being mad at me, Daddy. I up and left you guys to tend to the farm and to implement all my silly ideas.”
“Your ideas are not silly, Abby. I’m just glad you stopped running, and you’re finally home now.”
Lifting up on my toes, I kissed him on the cheek. “I’m glad I’m home, too, Daddy.”
“Even if things don’t work out with you and Bishop?”
Nodding, I wrapped my arm around his, and we started to walk down the row. “Even if.”
As we strolled, Daddy said, “This field yielded some amazing lavender. I think this spring it will be even better.”
“That makes me so happy.”
He stopped and kissed my forehead. “Good. That’s all I want for you, Abby. To be happy.”
“I know, Daddy.”
“Come on. Your mother dried out a lot of the lavender, and she even had some tea made with it.”
“What? She didn’t tell me that.”
He laughed. “Don’t tell her I said this, but it’s actually good.”
Another weight slowly lifted from my shoulders as I pretended to zip my mouth shut and toss away an invisible key. “My lips are sealed.”
Bishop
“We’re going to have a lot of people huddling around this firepit this season,” Ken said as he placed the last stone.
My mind had been reeling ever since Abby left earlier. Once I pulled myself together, I had driven back down here to finish the firepit with Ken. We had one down by the barn, but it had always been the plan to build a second one up on this hilltop.
Abby’s plan.
It had been her idea to build the first firepit and offer hot chocolate and s’mores kits to our customers. It had been such a huge hit the last few winters—along with the popular idea to let folks cut down their own trees—that I had decided to finally build the second one. And I built it in the exact location Abby had suggested.
“Bishop?”
Ken’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Yeah?”
“You okay?”
I brought my hand to the back of my neck to rub at the ache that had started building there earlier. “Honestly, no. I don’t think so.”
He gave a nod, then looked out over the snow-dusted hills. “Looks like the snow has stopped. You think we’ll get much more?”
I looked up at the sky. “Nah. I don’t think so. Would be nice to have a soft layer down for opening day, though. Something about the snow being on the trees makes it a bit more magical for folks.”
“I agree. We’ve got a couple weeks to get some more, so that’s good.”
There was obviously a conversation the two of us were stepping around, neither one of us willing to touch it.
I slapped my gloves onto my leg. “Let’s clean up—I’ve got a date tonight.”
Ken paused for a moment, then bent over and started to pick up the tools we had used to dry stack the stones. We worked in silence, cleaning up the area.
When I shut the back door of my truck, I looked at Ken. “Just say whatever it is you’re mulling around in your head.”
Ken frowned. “Is she back?”