Gretchen tried not to slam her very shatterable vases around the shop. She barely contained her anger, and she didn’t want Drew or Dixie to see it. If they’d ever show up. Her stomach growled, and fury flashed through her again.

They were late. And Drew was never late.

“You should be worried, not angry,” she muttered to herself. But she couldn’t rid herself of this river of frustration. Joel had told her the farm wasn’t for sale. No elaboration, not even when she’d asked.

“Honestly, what’s he going to do with it?” She paid a pittance for the three-acre flower gardens she tended to meticulously. He obviously didn’t need the money. And she didn’t have the funds to buy the farm—but she was willing to do almost anything to secure them.

The need seethed within her, making her hands shake so she couldn’t work. She sat on the stool in the front of the shop, watching the sidewalk as a couple walked past. In just a few days, the streets would be flooded with people, and she’d already put her lavender arrangements front and center in her window displays. She’d done well in the past few years during the festival, as The Painted Daisy was adjacent to the downtown park where the activities were.

Maybe she should call her granddad right now, in this window of time where Drew still hadn’t shown up. But she wasn’t sure what she’d say to him after all these years. It felt like the chasm she’d created by moving away and not keeping the relationship going was too wide for her to cross.

She felt a scream rising through her, and tears pricked the back of her eyes. In the next moment, her beautiful blonde daughter skipped in front of the window displays and the chime on the door rang as Dixie entered. “Mom!” Her enthusiasm was infectious and Gretchen swiped at her eyes.

“What, baby?”

“Wait ‘till you see the size of the cookies Drew bought!” She turned back to the door, but Drew still hadn’t made an appearance. Gretchen watched for him as well, relaxing further when he appeared wearing his handsome smile, his trademark blue jeans, and a gray t-shirt. He slowed when he caught her staring at him through the glass and stopped when he filled the doorway.

“You spoiled the surprise, didn’t you?” He gave Dixie a mock frown while she giggled, and Gretchen’s heart tumbled over itself to see their interactions so playful.

“I didn’t tell her what kind of cookies.”

“Oh, so she can guess.” He entered the shop and closed the door behind him, sealing out the warm summer breeze.

Gretchen couldn’t get herself to speak. Her voice was lodged somewhere beneath the teeming ball of emotions that had risen through her throat and stalled at the base of her tongue.

“Go on, Mom. Guess what kind.”

Drew held up a bag from Andy’s Anchor and Submarine Shop, and her choices were narrowed to two: chocolate chip or snickerdoodle. The sandwich shop only made two varieties of cookies, and if Drew had seriously thought a cookie without chocolate was worth eating, Gretchen would doubt a lot of things about him.

She finally got the ball of emotions to settle back into her stomach, where they writhed. “It better be chocolate chip.”

“Yep!” Dixie danced around a display table with three huge vases on it, and it took all of Gretchen’s willpower to keep herself from snapping at the child.

“Let’s eat in the back,” she said instead, hoping to minimize the damage. Dixie’s never broken anything, she chided herself. You’re just in a bad mood.

Drew passed out the food, giving Dixie her chocolate chip cookie first. “Don’t eat it all,” he said. “Half. Then you’ll have to eat your sandwich. And don’t tell my mother I let you eat your dessert first.”

A memory struck Gretchen at the same time Dixie said, “Once, my dad said we could eat all our desserts first. Mom didn’t even make dinner. She just put out cookies and marshmallow treats and these caramel nut things.” She turned to Gretchen, who was reliving the same, sweet memory. “What were those, Mom?”

“Macadamia nut clusters,” she managed to push through her throat.

“They were soo good. All we ate for dinner that night was dessert.”

Drew met Gretchen eyes as Dixie ripped off a piece of her cookie. Something stormed in his expression, but when he said, “Sounds fun, Dix,” his voice was as even as always.

Gretchen picked up her sandwich, the number eleven staring back at her. The Hawthorn harvest club. Her favorite. She wasn’t sure why, but those pesky tears appeared again.

She sniffed and tried to turn away, but Drew saw.

“Dix,” he said. “Run out front and get those paper towels your mom keeps under the desk.”

She skipped away without an argument, and Drew closed the door behind her. “What’s wrong?” He stayed by the door, pocketing his hands as he watched her.

She shrugged, which dislodged a tear, which put Drew in motion. He closed the distance between them in two strides and gathered her into his arms. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

Gretchen wanted to believe him, because when he spoke with so much kindness and so much love in his voice, it was almost impossible not to.

“There aren’t any paper towels out there,” Dixie said as she opened the door.

“I’ll grab some from the bathroom closet.” Gretchen sidestepped Drew and kept her face turned away from Dixie. She made it to the back of the shop and into the bathroom, wondering what in the world was wrong with her.

She had a roll of paper towels in her hand when Drew said, “It’s about the farm, isn’t it?”

Spinning to face him, Gretchen’s heart beat wildly in her chest. “Did Joel say something to you?”

Something like anguish colored his expression. “About a month ago, he told me he bought the farm for me, and I’ve been thinking about giving up my job as an EMT and becoming a lavender farmer.” His feet shuffled and he sighed. “I wasn’t sure if that was what I wanted, but today, I told him I wanted it.”

Gretchen had never felt so trapped. “Oh.” Or so foolish. She wanted to disappear through the floor.

“You called a few minutes later.” He dropped his head as if he was ashamed. “I was standing right there.”

Her stomach warred against itself and she hadn’t eaten anything yet. “I—I don’t know what to say.”

“Neither do I.”

She gripped the paper towels until her fingers ached. “So when are you going to move in?”

“Joel said he’d go through the house with me. Fix up anything that needs to be repaired before I make the move.” He scrubbed the back of his head in that tale-tell sign of his frustration. “I don’t know what to do about my current job.”

“Can you do both?” He was such a great paramedic, though she knew he’d struggled to find purpose in the job.

“Maybe for a little bit, as we head into fall,” he said, inching forward. “Joel suggested I’d need a lot of help around the farm.” His pinky hooked hers and he finally lifted his eyes to hers. “I was thinking you might want the job.”

Her eyebrows went up. Was that a proposal? A job offer? It felt as though wild horses were thundering through her entire being.

“I’d need help with getting the lavender back into shape, and of course, you’d have to stop paying the rent on the flower garden.”

“Why would I have to stop doing that?” The words barely ghosted from her mouth, because she still didn’t know what “the job” was.

“Because.” He chuckled. “I’m not taking rent from my girlfriend.” His other hand slid around her back and he swayed with her. “Once I get the farm and house fixed up, maybe you and Dixie could move in too.”

She bolted out of his arms, needing to know what he meant by everything. Her back met the wall and panic doused her insides with icy waves. “Drew,” she said. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

“It was Dixie’s idea.”

Gretchen felt the blood drain from her face, and Drew obviously saw it, because the softness in his face turned hard.

“I mean—”

“Excuse me.” She pushed past him and turned left, exploding through the door and into the alley behind the shop. She couldn’t breathe behind walls, not right now.

“Gretchen,” he said, pleading in both syllables.

She held up her hand. “Don’t, Drew,” she said. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen this coming from a mile away. He loved Dixie more than her. She shook her head as an unhappy laugh came out of her mouth. “I’m so naïve.”

“No, you’re not.” He closed the door behind him, locking them out though he probably didn’t know that. “I’m not saying anything right today.”

She faced him, her fingers balling themselves into fists. With her chin lifted, she nonverbally dared him to try again.

He pulled in a deep breath, his face ruddy and blushed. “I love the farm. I love being an EMT, but I feel…unsettled in that job. I want to see if farm life is more my style. I need time to get the house and farm operational. Then I thought maybe you’d like to get married and be a farm family with me.” A small smile touched his mouth. “So yes, I guess that was a really bad marriage proposal, which happened a bit prematurely.”

Gretchen couldn’t move—didn’t dare. She feared if she stepped, the ground would be too brittle to hold her weight.

“I’m really bad at this kind of stuff.” Drew started laughing, a low sound that lifted and swelled and filled the alley, the park across the street, the very sky itself.

The joy he brought with him filled her, and she found herself laughing with him. He swept her into his arms and placed a kiss on the corner of her mouth. “Something to think about,” he whispered. “I know it’s a lot to take in.” He kissed the opposite corner of her lips, and everything inside her melted. She folded herself into his embrace and pressed her cheek above his pulse.

Did she love him? She loved how he took care of Dixie. How easily he’d taken to her as if she were his own child. She loved how he looked after his parents. She loved his gentle spirit and kind eyes and warm hands. She loved how safe she felt with him, and the thought of not being with him brought pain like she’d experienced when Aaron had died.

She was so close to loving him, and she wouldn’t let a farm get between them. “I’ll help you get the farm up and running again,” she whispered, tilting her head back to receive a proper kiss from the man she almost loved.

The day before the festival, Gretchen sold through all her lavender sachets. She’d cleaned out all the bouquets and all the wreaths Donna had taught her to weave. Thankfully, she had another day’s worth of stock in the walk-in refrigerator, and more out at the farm where she’d been living.

She paused in sprucing up her displays, the time ticking toward noon, when Janey would arrive to take her to lunch. Though they saw each other every day and they helped one another out, sometimes it was nice for the two of them to just sit and relax. Eat a meal together. Talk about their own challenges.

Gretchen’s thoughts wandered down the Lavender Highway, and when her phone chimed a message from Janey saying she was at the corner, Gretchen turned the OPEN sign to CLOSED, where she’d taped a handwritten note that said, “I’ll be back at 1 PM.”

After making sure the front door was locked and hurrying down the sidewalk, she slid into Janey’s Jeep. “Hey.” She didn’t mean to exhale like the weight of the world was on her shoulders.

“Oh, hey. What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“Didn’t sound like nothing.” Janey eased onto the road. “And we’re going up to Mabel’s for lunch?” She cut Gretchen a glance out of the corner of her eye.

“She was kind to me when I got hurt,” Gretchen said, shrugging. “And she’s having her annual lavender luncheon for her special guests. You’re my plus-one.”

Janey laughed, and all traces of her prior loneliness seemed to be gone. “I think Drew’s your plus-one.”

Gretchen lifted her chin, unable to deny her relationship or her feelings for Drew. She didn’t want to either. “Not today. Just you and me, girl.”

Janey aimed her Jeep along the coastal highway, and Gretchen rolled down the window, the sound and scent of the ocean calming her enough to admit, “I’m going to miss Donna and Joel.”

“Why would you miss them?”

“I can’t live at the farm forever,” she said. “Honestly, no one but me seems to get that.”

“And what about you and Drew?”

Gretchen hadn’t told her about the botched marriage proposal. If what had happened in the bathroom at The Painted Daisy could even be considered a marriage proposal.

“Gretchen? You like him, right? He’s good to you?” Janey pulled into the guest parking lot at the Magleby Mansion, her words rolling around in Gretchen’s head.

“Why wouldn’t he be good to me?” Gretchen swung her attention to her best friend.

Janey squirmed before reaching to unbuckle her seatbelt. “I’m probably worrying too much.”

“Worrying about what?” Gretchen undid her seatbelt too, but as Janey hadn’t tried to get out of the Jeep, Gretchen stayed put too. “Dixie really loves Drew.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s not that.” She gazed out the windshield, her mind obviously churning around something.

“Janey?” Gretchen reached over and put her fingertips on her friend’s arm.

She startled. “It’s nothing. Me just thinking about what I would do if I were in your shoes.” She opened the door and got out of the Jeep.

Gretchen took a few more seconds than Janey did to find her balance in her walking boot and to come around the front of the vehicle. “And what would you do if you were me?”

Janey gazed at the ocean across the street and down the beach for an extra moment or two. Then she looked at Gretchen with all the love of a best friend. “I’d hang on to a good man like Drew.”

Gretchen smiled, tucked her arm in Janey’s, and said, “Let’s go eat this amazing lunch.”

Janey giggled as they went up the gravel drive. “I’ve always wanted to eat here again.”

“Again?”

“Yeah, Matt and I got married here. We had a full catered dinner.”

“Oh, wow.” Gretchen let Janey open the door for her, and the scent of roasted meat and potatoes met her nose. “Do you think you’ll come here when you get married again?”

Janey scoffed. “I’m not the one with the serious boyfriend.” She quirked an eyebrow at Gretchen. “But yeah, if I could afford it. I’d totally book the Mansion again.”

Gretchen glanced up to the high ceilings, seeing the brown and white stones in a whole new light—more like a customer and not a service provider.

“Gretchen.” Mabel spotted her and came over as fast as her elderly body could bring her. “You made it.” She held onto Gretchen’s upper arms and scanned her. “You’re looking well.”

“Healing up nicely.” Gretchen smiled and indicated Janey. “You remember Janey.”

“I remember all my brides.” Mabel stepped back from Gretchen and patted Janey’s hand between both of hers. “Come on, girls. I have seats for you over here with the policemen.”

The morning of the Lavender Festival dawned early and hot. “Come on, Dix,” she called. “Drew wanted us there at eight.” She picked up the jar of perfect lavender blooms she’d plucked the previous evening, and Donna handed her one final bottle of lavender scented vanilla extract.

“Take him this. It’s my special blend.” She grinned and Gretchen couldn’t help returning the smile.

Dixie came tearing down the stairs, her flaxen hair flying behind her, as she cradled the mint plant Drew had entrusted her with. “Ready!”

“What else is Drew garnishing his ice cream with?” she asked.

“It’s a secret.” Dixie looked at her with wide eyes that held the hint of deviousness.

“Like your wishes.”

“Yes, exactly.”

Gretchen giggled, though she still really wanted to know what Dixie had been wishing for all this time. “Well, come on. We’re already late.”

When they pulled up to Drew’s house, he paced from the bottom of the stairs to the top. He wore a pair of dark jeans with a white polo and the anxiety right on his face. He caught sight of them as he came back down the steps.

Gretchen got out of the car and handed him the bottle of lavender vanilla extract. “From your mother.”

“I’m so nervous.”

“Relax,” Dixe said, passing him the mint plant. “You’ve got this. You practiced the recipe again last night, right?”

“Yes.” He bent down to her height. “The ice cream was good, right?”

She put both hands on his shoulders. “So good. You’re going to win.”

Drew nodded once and straightened. He kissed Gretchen quickly and said, “Well, I have to go check in by nine. Should we go?”

“You have everything loaded already, don’t you?”

“Since seven this morning.”

Gretchen threw her head back and laughed. “Why did we come early to help then?” She shook her head and put her arm around Drew. “You’re not going to have any fun today, are you?” The competition wasn’t until two o’clock that afternoon, and contestants had two hours to craft their creations and submit them for judging. The winners were announced at six, just before the annual lighting of the lavender plants that lined Main Street. After that, the big town dance started. Gretchen had never gone, because she was tired by the time they lit the lavender and Dixie had never asked to go to the dance.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Dixie piled into the middle of his truck and Gretchen caught sight of his premium cooler—one of the fanciest ones on the market, it claimed to keep ice frozen for seventy-two hours. He’d bought it specifically to keep his ingredients at the temperature he wanted until the competition started.

They arrived in the downtown area to swarms of cars. Luckily, she had parking at the back of the shop. Her hired help had already arrived, and she ran inside the building just to make sure the stock was holding out.

Drew held Dixie’s hand on the edge of the street when she came out, and her heart stuttered at the sight.

And she knew. Like she knew the sun would rise the following morning and she knew the sky was blue and she knew she’d have her indigo daisies at her wedding.

She knew she was in love with Drew Herrin.

Gretchen couldn’t stop smiling as she took Drew’s other hand, and they all walked over to the Lavender Festival. Vendors worked to set up their tents and tables. Food trucks pulled in and started getting their generators set up.

The line to enter the Lavender Creation Contest stretched a couple dozen feet, and Gretchen suppressed a groan. They soon discovered that one line was for products that took longer than two hours to produce. The people in that line simply needed to drop off their bottle of lotion or bar of oatmeal-lavender soap, fill out the entry form, and leave.

Those who could create and demonstrate their use of lavender in the two-hour time period waited in another line. Foot by foot, they moved forward until it was Drew’s turn to fill out the papers, pay his fee, and declare what he was making.

“Ice cream,” he said with confidence.

“Ooh,” Brenda squealed as she wrote the information on the single sheet she was keeping. “You know three-time champion Augustus Hammond has entered for ice cream too, right?” She looked up at him with such glee in her eyes.

Drew’s countenance fell. “Yeah, I know.” He handed over his twenty-dollar fee and Brenda recorded it, handed him a number and a receipt, and he stepped to the side.

“Don’t worry about Augustus,” Gretchen said as they faced the park. She aimed them in the direction of the petting zoo, where a small crowd of families had already gathered. The rest of the festival would be in full swing within the hour, and the scent of sunshine and lavender filled the air.

“Maybe this was a huge mistake.” Drew shook his head and muttered under his breath.

“He’s not going to beat you,” Gretchen assured him, though a slip of nervousness tunneled through her.

“All you can do is try,” Dixie said. “Mom, there’s Jess and Janey. Can I go pet the goats with them?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Dixie skipped ahead, but Gretchen tugged on Drew’s hand to get him to slow. “She’s right, you know. All you can do is try.”

He met her eyes, and the fear melted from his face. “You’re right.” Drew squared his shoulders. “I’m going to try.”

Gretchen stretched up on her toes and kissed him. “For luck.”