Drew thought it would be easier to lift Gretchen into his arms and carry her into the house than it was watching her struggle up the five steps to her front door. When she finally made it, she was sweating and her face was an odd shade of gray.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Fine.”

Unable to do more, he entered first and held the door open so she could hop-step inside. “There’re a couple of bags in the hall closet there.” She nodded to a closed door on his left. A living room sat on the right, and she moved in there and collapsed on the couch. “I just need a minute to catch my breath.”

Drew appreciated the scent of lemons and the lived-in but clean appearance of her house.

“Dixie’s room is down the hall on the left. Mine is on the right, but I can pack my own things.”

Nerves wiggled in his chest, and he wondered if Janey wouldn’t have been a better choice for this particular task. He had no idea what a ten-year-old needed in the way of clothing, what shoes to bring, or if she’d like anything to occupy her time outside of the farm. He threw in jeans, shirts, socks, and the three pairs of shoes he saw sitting in the closet.

As far as he could tell from the stack of music books on the girl’s nightstand, she liked to play the piano. He didn’t seen crayons or coloring books, novels or journals. So he grabbed the top few music books and put them in the bag.

He found Gretchen in her bedroom leaning on one crutch while digging through a drawer with her other hand. Watching her for a moment, a rush of affection for her roared through him. She had beautiful eyes and he liked the way she held her mouth in a determined line as she continued to search for what she wanted.

With a jolt, he realized he was staring. “I, uh, got Dixie’s stuff. I’ll go put it in the truck and be right back.”

She startled and almost fell down without the help of both of her crutches.

“Whoa.” He darted forward and latched onto her arm. “I’ve got you.” Electric pulses shot up his arm in time to his heartbeat and his eyes locked onto hers.

She was completely steady now, with heat riding in her expression, but he said, “I’ve got you,” again anyway. He really wanted to have her in his arms, in his life. He wanted to know everything about her, and tell her everything about him.

He couldn’t make his voice say a single thing.

“Did you get Dixie’s inhaler?” Gretchen finally broke the silence. “I think she usually keeps it in the bathroom.”

Inhaler? “Does she have asthma?”

Gretchen nodded, her throat moving as she swallowed. Drew tracked the movement against her creamy skin, wondering what it would feel like against his fingertips, his lips. He cleared the fantasy from his mind and turned, releasing his hold on Gretchen’s arm. “I’ll go grab it.”

He hadn’t gotten her toothbrush or anything for her hair either, and Drew added the personal hygiene items to Dixie’s bag and took it out to his truck. He leaned against the tailgate, and drew in lungful after lungful of the crisp spring air.

He couldn’t be alone with Gretchen like that again, not if he wanted to keep her out at the farm until she could take care of herself. His face cooled, but his heart still hammered against his ribs as if he’d just lifted the heaviest weights of his life.

Dr. Harris hadn’t said anything about the heart murmur either, and maybe her body had simply been compensating for her injuries.

Something banged inside the house and he practically sprinted back through the front door. “Gretchen?”

“I’m fine,” she called. He followed the sound of her voice down the hall, bypassing the one that went left and continuing into the great room, dining area, and kitchen, where Gretchen stood with ice cubes strewn around her feet.

“I just dropped the ice cube tray,” she said.

“I can get you a drink.” Drew hurried forward and took the glass from her hand. He didn’t need to clean up broken shards as well as water.

“I want to get my own drink,” she said in a surly tone.

“Yeah, well, I want a million dollars.” He tossed a smile in her direction and picked up the ice cube tray, shaking the four cubes that were still in the plastic into the glass. He filled it with water and set it on the counter in front of Gretchen. “You’re going to have to get used to someone helping you for a while.”

“I will never get used to it.”

Drew gathered up all the melting cubes and tossed them into the sink. He settled his weight against the countertop and faced her. “Why not?”

“Because, in the end, only you can take care of yourself.” She drained the last of the water and met his eye with a challenge in hers.

“Do you really believe that?” he asked.

“Yes, I do.”

“I think that’s really sad.”

“Well, you weren’t left without a job, without a way to pay bills, with a seven-year-old daughter to somehow provide for.” She hopped on her good foot so she faced him. “When you go through that, see who’ll be there to help.”

Sadness pinched behind his heart. “My parents would be there.”

“Lucky you.”

“Why didn’t you go back to California so your parents could help?”

“I already told you I couldn’t go back there.”

“But you never said why.” She didn’t have to do everything alone. She chose to.

Gretchen lifted her chin. “I left my bag on my bed. It’s ready.”

Drew wasn’t ultra experienced with women, but he knew when a conversation was over.

I can’t do this.

That was one kind of final.

But so was I left my bag on my bed.

Yvonne’s text haunted him as he collected Gretchen’s bag, put it in the back of the truck, and returned to the porch to help her down the steps and into the vehicle.

When he arrived at the farm, his mom and Joel greeted them in the driveway. Joel grabbed the two bags, and his mom took over assisting Gretchen into the house. Drew trailed behind, his emotions swirling around and around themselves.

The ride out to the farm had been filled with tension and he hadn’t known how to break it. He stepped next to his mom, who was filling coffee mugs with the hot liquid and whispered, “She can’t sleep upstairs. She can barely walk.”

His mom gave him a look and turned back to where Gretchen sat at the kitchen table. “Here you go, dear.” She pushed the sugar bowl closer. “So we only have one extra bedroom here on the main level. Do you think Dixie would mind sleeping upstairs alone? Or she could stay in the bedroom with you. It has a queen-sized bed.”

Gretchen sipped her coffee and took a few extra moments to answer. She wouldn’t look at Drew, and he stayed over by the coffeemaker. He didn’t want to appear too friendly out here, otherwise his eagle-eyed mother would know about his crush on the pretty florist.

“I’ll ask her after school,” Gretchen said. “Honestly, sometimes she sleeps with me, and sometimes she doesn’t.”

His mother patted Gretchen’s hand. “Well, you just leave everything to me. I’m so glad you’re here. It’s been so long since I’ve had someone to take care of in this house.”

“Hey,” Joel protested as he entered the kitchen, having taken the bags up to the second-floor bedrooms. “You take care of me.”

She laughed and handed Joel a mug of coffee. “I suppose that’s true.”

Drew watched their exchange, glad his mother had found someone to love again. He wished he could find someone to share his life with, and his gaze wandered to Gretchen’s. Would she ever allow someone into her life? Into Dixie’s? Would she be able to rely on someone again, accept their help?

He hoped so, and he turned away from her at the table and reached for another mug. After filling it with coffee, he nodded at Gretchen and escaped through the back door. Knowing his mother, she’d have a schedule set up for who would take Dixie to school, who would pick her up, and how Gretchen could get back and forth to her shop before he got back from feeding the chickens.

Sure enough, when he returned to the farmhouse after taking an extra-long hour out with the animals, his mother greeted him with, “Gretchen has an anniversary dinner tomorrow night. She needs help getting the flowers in the morning, and then you’ll drive her over to the florist on your way to work.” She glanced at Drew as if expecting his perfect compliance. “Is that all right?”

“I guess. Can I bring the dogs out here for the weekend? Maybe Dixie could have Jess over and they could play with them.”

“Sure, bring the dogs. What time do you need to be to work?”

“Nine.”

His mother turned from the stove, where she was browning sausage for what Drew hoped was her chicken and bell pepper Alfredo pizza. “Gretchen, dear, how long will it take you in the flower gardens?”

Gretchen looked at Drew. “Depends. Do you know the difference between a daisy and a tulip?”

Drew blinked, unsure of how to answer.

“Oh, he’s helpless with flowers,” his mom said. “He knows lavender, that’s for sure. He knows roses. He’s good with honey.” With every word his mother said, Gretchen’s head tipped a little more, like one of his dogs trying to figure out a new command.

“Really?” she said. “Honey?”

“Oh, Drew here is a budding ice cream chef.” His mother seeded a green pepper, and Drew knew he’d be asking her to save him some pizza.

“Mom,” he said. “Stop talking, please.”

“Oh, you.” She mimed throwing the green pepper at him and laughed.

He focused on Gretchen. “I can get your flowers. You’ll just have to boss me around a little.”

“I think I can do that.” She grinned and ducked her head but not before he saw the hint of a blush in her cheeks. “So maybe seven-thirty,” she said.

He groaned. “That’s early.” He usually worked out before going over to the hospital, but a seven-thirty call time for picking flowers would push his wake-up time to six.

“I can have Dixie help.”

“I can do it.” Drew spoke maybe a little too quickly, or a little too sharp. No matter what, he’d drawn the attention of his mother, who managed to chop the peppers into rings without even looking at them. How she didn’t cut off her fingers, he didn’t know.

“Well, I have to get to work,” he said, glad for a reason to get out of the kitchen. “I’m on until ten tonight,” he told his mother with a quick kiss to her temple. “You’ll save me some of that pizza, right?”

She laughed and promised she would. Drew headed out to his truck without looking back. He really wanted to, but he couldn’t give his mother any more fuel for her suspicions.

The next morning, Drew lifted weights and ran on the treadmill, showered, and loaded up the dogs. Out on the farm, he let them loose into the lavender fields and walked around the fence and into the expansive flower gardens Gretchen maintained. He found her there already, her auburn hair tied back into a ponytail. She wore a pair of baggy jeans with an overly large pair of field boots—well just the one—and her sweatshirt zipped all the way to her throat.

He didn’t blame her. The wind coming off the ocean today held a certain iciness he hoped would be gone in a few weeks.

“You doing my job?” he asked as he came up behind her.

“Just looking,” she said. “I knew you were here. Your dogs are loud.”

“Only Blue,” he said. “He seems to think everyone wants to know what he has to say.” Drew chuckled as he noticed the clumps of lavender getting jostled in the distance from where Blue and Chief romped through the fields. The distinct sound of Blue’s bark met his ears, and he couldn’t help feeling the same joy as his dog running through the field.

He drew in a deep breath, getting the salty brine mixed with a heady floral scent and Gretchen’s powdery skin. His hand hovered over hers though it rested on her crutch. She released it and tucked her fingers into his, a sigh slipping through her lips.

“I’m a little nervous,” he admitted, not quite sure when he’d decided to have this conversation with her.

“About what?”

“Starting something with you.”

Before she could respond, Dixie called, “Mom! Mom?”

Gretchen dropped his hand, and he automatically moved farther down the row. “Out in the garden, Dix.”

The little girl came skipping over from the farmhouse, and when she saw Drew her whole face lit up. “Drew!”

“Hey, Dixie. Should we help your mom get the flowers she needs?”

“I have a list,” Gretchen said, and Dixie plucked it from her fingers and read it.

“This is easy. C’mon, Drew. Follow me.” The little girl traipsed past him and over a couple rows. Drew grinned after her and looked back at Gretchen. She watched her daughter with the same fondness, and when her eyes met his, something passed between them.

“We’ll talk later,” he said.

“Looking forward to it.” Gretchen started back down the row, and Drew went to work with Dixie to get the flowers her mom needed, a thread of happiness pulling through him at these two females that had come back into his life.