It had been three days since Patty confessed her miserable little plot to me. No call back from Fynn. It seemed I'd lost him for good. I'd considered calling him once more, but I talked myself out of it each time. I didn't think my message could have been clearer. It was, after all, just one word, and it was pretty hard to misinterpret the word yes.

I worked the counter while Patty stocked the refrigerator, a crummy, cold job that she usually left for me. If nothing else, her deceit and the extreme guilt it left her with, had improved things on the job. This morning I strode in fifteen minutes late, and my boss didn't dare say anything except good morning. Unfortunately, none of it made up for losing Fynn. It was hard to know what had made him change his mind. The only thing I could come up with was the time away let him come to the conclusion that he hadn't been all that nuts about me in the first place. People say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but apparently, the opposite could happen just as easily.

In the meantime, Patty had gone out on a date with Samuel. She had been walking on air about it ever since. As angry as I was at her, I was happy for her too. And even though she had rearranged the sodas on the refrigerator shelves three times, she stopped after three and that was a step in the right direction. Of course, frostbite on her fingertips might have had more to do with it than overcoming her anxiety.

My phone rang. It never rang. My heart did a weird little flip flop thing in my chest as I pulled my phone out of my apron pocket. It was Fran.

"Hey, Fran."

"Ella, I'm having a small emergency, and I need your help."

"What's wrong?" I pulled my apron off ready to hurry out the door.

She paused and I worried that something terrible had happened. "The zipper on my purse is stuck."

I pressed my hand over my chest to calm myself. "Very funny, Fran. You just about gave me a heart attack." I picked up the apron and started to pull it on. "You'd think a mayor would have more to do than play pranks on her constituents."

"My heel is stuck in the floorboards," she said quickly.

"Fran, what's going on?"

"Oh, just get over here, would you?"

I looked out the window. "Where are you at?"

"My office and make it quick." She hung up.

I stared at my phone in confusion. I hung the apron on the stool behind the counter. "Patty, I need to head over to Fran's office for a minute. She's got some kind of emergency. Either that or she's losing her mind. I'll be right back."

"All right. I hope there's nothing wrong," Patty called from the back.

The quickest route to Fran's office was through the park. I'd been avoiding the place because it reminded me so much of Fynn. A handful of kids were playing on the new equipment, and a few unfamiliar faces, people passing through town, were sitting on the benches at the park enjoying something from one of Jilly's signature pink boxes.

I cut through the center of the park and kept my eyes averted from the beautiful fountain, the unusual site of our first kiss. I headed along the path. A dog came trotting around the back of the pavilion. He was short and chubby, and he was moving awkwardly with a bouquet of tiny purple flowers tucked under his collar.

"Boone!" I stooped down and he ran straight to me. He licked my face as I relieved him of his flower burden. My pulse raced as if I had just run up a steep hill. I straightened and searched around for Boone's owner.

Fynn leaned out from the pavilion. "Just to be clear—that was a yes, right?"

"Yes. Hell yes."

Fynn flew down the steps, and I threw myself into his arms. We kissed until it seemed we were catching far too much attention from shop owners and park goers.

I smiled up at him. "I thought I'd never see you again. I thought I'd never feel these amazing arms around me again."

"Now that I've got you in these arms, how do you feel about living on a farm and becoming a wheat farmer's wife?"

"Will I have my own horse?"

"You can have as many horses as you want."

I pretended to be thinking it over.

"You're hesitating. I wasn't expecting hesitation."

"I was just trying to decide if there was a word that was more clear than yes."

"I've got one. Only it's more of an action than a word." Fynn pressed his mouth over mine and kissed me again.

I was glad Fynn was holding onto me tightly. Otherwise, I have no doubt I would have floated in a blissful bubble up to the sky.