Bluestone & Vine by Donna Kauffman (10)

Chapter Ten

Seth didn’t see it as being a glutton for punishment when he followed the two, at a distance, and headed toward the mill as well. He’d been at the mill for a reason, but had detoured when he’d seen Pippa standing beside the creek. He’d had his little speech all prepared for when she came to the vineyard again, but just as well to get it out in the open sooner than later. He’d concluded just that morning that it was both silly and childish—not to mention impractical—for him to continue to find ways to be as far away from his own barn as possible when she was there. He’d confess she was a distraction, put all the blame on himself—where it rightly belonged, as obviously she wasn’t having any of those issues herself—and ask, as kindly as possible, if she could refrain from spending so much time at his vineyard. Or any time at his vineyard.

He’d even planned to offer to talk to Addie to see if maybe they could keep Elliott up at Addie’s and Bailey’s cabin, so Pippa could go visit him there. Dex would mope, but the sheep were back outside, back to their regular routine, so Dex would be too busy to mourn too much. Seth would play him Disney marathons if he had to.

He walked over to the creek, mentally rehearsing it again, but then she’d turned to him, those brilliant blue eyes of hers drenched with raw emotion, a sheen of tears, and what looked like relief, joy, and terror, all rolled into one. And all his carefully rehearsed explanations had dissipated like the mist that hung over the falls.

That they’d eventually had “the talk” anyway was of little solace to him now. Because now he knew she wasn’t at all nonchalant about this ... thing, they shared. The more she’d danced in and out of his barns, cheerfully chattering with him as easily as she chatted with Bailey and Jake, the more he’d become convinced that he’d been blowing what happened at Mabry’s into a way bigger thing than it had been for her. He’d told himself that for all her down-to-earth nature, the truth was, she was a well traveled, worldly woman. She’d told him there hadn’t been a romance in her life since her swift climb to fame, and he believed her, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t gleaned a lot of life experience from her globe-trotting lifestyle. Maybe she was just better equipped to handle a surprising attraction.

He ignored the question, because the thing was, he’d made himself believe it was all in his head—and various other parts of his body—and he’d be doing them both a favor by just laying down the necessary ground rules so he could move on with his life. Instead he’d discovered he didn’t know jack squat about anything when it came to how Pippa felt about him.

He paused inside the door to the mill and took a moment to try to shove all of that from his mind. It had been said; it was done. Over. Just because it had taken every ounce of willpower he had not to scoop her up like some Neanderthal and carry her off to his mountain lair the moment he realized he wasn’t at all alone in this raging attraction, that changed nothing. If anything, it should be more of a relief. He’d never have to see her again. I guess it’s time to see where this next step takes me. He swallowed several very succinct swear words. “Anywhere I want it to,” he muttered. Now all he had to do was make himself believe it.

Seth scanned the interior of the mill, realizing he was looking for her, and swore under his breath. Get a grip, man. It’s done.

The mill was a bustle of activity, as it had been since it had opened, way ahead of schedule, just before Christmas. It hadn’t been completely finished back then, but enough that they’d been able to get things going. Seth, Sawyer, and Jake’s dad, Will McCall, had been the driving force behind the bulk of the renovation, with an enormous amount of help from a few local contractors, townsfolk who wanted to pitch in for the greater good, and all of the crafters and their families as well. They’d gutted the interior and put in three floors. The basement, which had a walkout around back, was where Addie and Sawyer each kept an office for overall mill and guild business. The furnace and electrical grid were down there as well.

The main level, which opened on the side of the building via a large sliding panel door, featured a catacomb of individual booths, studios, and nooks, that had been added organically as each artist created a spot to display his or her wares, along with space to create and demonstrate their art. It made for a market-like feeling, inviting visitors to wander through the aisles, in and out of each artist’s domain like a folk-art-oriented bazaar.

The third floor, accessed by a staircase built into the wall opposite the one that housed the mechanics for the waterwheel, was a series of shared classrooms where artists could teach seminars, conduct demonstrations, or hold lectures. Different classroom spaces were set up for different types of art or craft; one for music, one for painting, one for sewing, weaving, and needlework, and a large generic space that leant itself to any number of other classroom needs.

There wasn’t any one spot a person could stand on the main floor and see more than a few of the booths or studios, but the chatter of the artists and the patrons filled the air, giving it a friendly neighborhood vibe, and everyone could hear the music that echoed forth from the rear of the building. Sawyer’s brewery and gastropub were back there, along with a small stage where the musicians in residence could play, alone or together, oftentimes inviting other local or visiting musicians to join them. That was something that happened throughout any given day, as was happening now with Drake on his mandolin. He’d been joined by someone on a Dobro as well, from the sounds of it. Folk music, sometimes lively, sometimes soulful, lent the place a joyful vibrancy that was the perfect complement to the creative energy that abounded from studio setting to booth display.

Seth wandered down one of the aisles along the west side of the building, intending to take the most direct path back to Sawyer’s place, but admitting he was still looking about for a glimpse of Pippa. It wasn’t so odd, he told himself, given the moment of self-revelation she’d had by the water, that he’d want to see how she was doing. She would be meeting people who were quite likely fans of hers, as well as being confronted with their urging her to join Drake on stage to play or sing.

He had a brief thought that he should have come through first before going out to talk to her, had a chat with the guild members, asked them not to pressure Pippa to perform ... then shook his head. Not your problem. Besides, she could handle herself, as she’d proven time and again. He really needed to let go of this protective streak he seemed to have for her. One he knew damn well had nothing to do with Pippa’s connection to his sister.

He was halfway to the back when he heard her unmistakable laughter. Not the giggle that Bailey so easily elicited from her. This was a full-bodied, throaty laugh, and he knew she was probably busy putting a nervous fan at ease or making someone feel they were the center of her attention. And they would be, in that moment. A more real or genuine woman than Pippa MacMillan he’d yet to meet.

“Oh boy,” came a deep voice behind. “Brother, I know that look.”

Seth turned to find Sawyer standing next to him. Seth topped his former commanding officer by an inch or two and was a bit broader in size, but Sawyer was still a commanding figure in both stature and attitude. He was relentlessly positive and the most outgoing guy in the room. Folks tended to gravitate toward Sawyer, and he ended up in leadership roles time and again, mostly because everyone around him happily waited for him to direct them. Seth had long since given up trying to figure out the source of his best friend’s magnetism, and simply accepted it as Sawyer’s due.

“There is no look,” Seth told him. “Therefore, your pity is misplaced.”

Sawyer chuckled. “Oh, this isn’t pity, my friend.” He clapped Seth on the shoulder. “This is a welcome to the party.”

Seth threw him a side eye, even while part of him was half straining to hear what Pippa was saying as he and Sawyer drew closer to the sound of her voice. “I’d ask what party, but I’m very sure I don’t want to know.”

“The party of lovesick fools, still trying to tell themselves they can manage it, control it, put it neatly into a little box labeled ‘things I am definitely never going to do,’ then stick it on the shelf. Like it has a hope in hell of staying there.” Sawyer laughed. “Learn from my mistake, pal. Stop torturing yourself. You’re wasting precious time.”

Seth kept walking without giving Sawyer the benefit of a response. It irked him that he was so obvious. “I’m the laid-back, not-a-care-in-the-world kind of guy. If you don’t count the huge winery I’m trying to get off the ground,” Seth said, as they ducked through the swinging panels between the pub’s kitchen and the tiny office Sawyer used for pub business. Seth nodded hello to Hudson, Sawyer’s new chef, then closed the door behind them once Sawyer was inside. “Not the fall-apart-over-a-woman-who’ll-be-an-ocean-away-in-a-few-weeks kind of guy.”

The performers on the pub’s small stage had grown to a trio now, and though the music was more lilting than thumping, the stage was just beyond the other wall of Sawyer’s office, close enough that Seth sat on the corner of Sawyer’s heavy old oak desk so they could talk without having to shout.

Sawyer sat in the old leather swivel chair behind the desk and studied his friend for a long moment. Then he laughed and said, “Yeah, you really should just give up and give in now.”

“I didn’t come here to talk about Pippa,” Seth said, deciding Sawyer was having way too much fun at his expense. “I wanted to touch base with you before I talk to Addie. With spring finally making an appearance, I was thinking about adding on to the pens we built for Bailey’s sheep last fall. So she could house her goats up there and not have to make the trek to the vineyard all the time.”

Sawyer’s smile slipped. “Is there a problem with her going out there? Or Jake? Did something happen?” They all cared about Bailey as if she were their own, but none so much as Sawyer. Bailey had bonded with him straight off when she’d first come to town the previous fall. “Because you have to know she doesn’t just go out there to play with the sheep and the goats. She’s out there babysitting you.”

Seth’s brows shot up in honest surprise. “Babysit me? What on earth for?”

Sawyer shook his head, the smile back. “And here I thought you knew how her mind worked by now.”

“I thought I did. Illuminate me.”

“When she first got here, we were finishing up the mill, Sunny had just started in on renovating that monstrosity of a greenhouse out in the woods, and I set to work getting the brewery up and running. So Bailey had all her mother-hen tendencies tied up in overseeing the mill, overseeing me and the brewery, and Sunny with the greenhouse. And making sure Sunny ended up with me, too, now that I think about it.” He leaned back in his chair and tucked his hands behind his head, the teasing glint back in his bright blue eyes. “The mill is done now, my brewery is coming along, Sunny’s got the greenhouse up and going, so . . . it’s your turn, my obtuse friend.” His smile widened to a pleased, satisfied grin. “And apparently Pippa’s turn as well. I heard Bailey gave her a goat.”

It’s about belonging. Bailey’s words echoed through Seth’s mind as he stared at his friend, wishing he could ignore the blatant truth staring him right in the face, but ... no. “Well, I don’t need mother-henning. And, before you say anything more, I’m not saying I don’t want Bailey there. Or Jake. I love having them around. I rely on them. What I was getting at was that now that she’s breeding the goats, and is thinking about finding ways to show them, maybe sell them—which Addie has said she’ll oversee, so don’t worry—it would be smarter for her to have them closer to home.”

Sawyer unlaced his hands and sat forward, propping his elbows on his desk and pressing his lips against his folded fingers. “So, this is about Pippa, then,” he said at length.

Seth just swore under his breath and stood up. “I should have just gone straight to Addie.”

“You want the goats at Bailey’s place because then Pippa will be at Bailey’s place. Are you sure you don’t want me figuring out how to move Dex there, too? I understand he’s taken quite a shine to your Irish songstress.”

“Irish song—she’s not my Irish anything.”

“Oh, I think there’s a good chance she’s your Irish everything, but you’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

Seth shocked them both by saying, “No, I’m not too stubborn to admit it. I just don’t know how to make it work and keep her, and I don’t think I could stand watching her walk away if we let this go any further.”

Sawyer recovered from his surprise first. “Further?” He grinned, unrepentantly. “So, it’s gone ... somewhere then? When? You booted her out to Noah’s cabin like a day after she got here. Chicken-shit move, by the way.” He flapped pretend wings.

“Bite me.” Seth turned to go.

“Seth,” Sawyer said, all teasing gone. He waited for Seth to turn back around. “Teasing aside, if she’s it for you, don’t spend your energy on finding ways to shut it down. Spend that energy on figuring out how to give it—give her—your best chance.” He stood now, and the commanding-officer aura overtook the best-friend ribbing. “You stepped in when Sunny and I couldn’t figure things out. When I thought the obstacles were insurmountable, as did she. We owe you. We want you happy.”

“Sunny lived hours away, not an ocean and a continent,” Seth reminded him. “And one of you isn’t a world-famous singer.”

“And yet, in the end, I would have been willing to work with that, too, to have what we could have, versus having nothing at all.” Sawyer sighed when he saw he wasn’t getting anywhere. “All I’m saying is, when we started working toward something, instead of against it, solutions were found.”

“And if we don’t find a solution?” Seth asked him, quite sincerely. “What then? And if you’re about to say, ‘be thankful for what time you had,’ save your breath. We’re not cut out for that. I wouldn’t do that to her, and I sure as hell am not going to do that to myself. I didn’t risk my life every single day for years on end and miraculously survive, just to come home and torture myself over what any sane person would assess and say is a no-win situation.”

“We’re Rangers,” Sawyer said. “You wore the green beret, same as me. We made it our business to run toward no-win situations, and get the win anyway. What happened to that guy?”

“That guy is no longer serving his country. He’s serving his desire to build something worthwhile with his own two hands. Something that has a chance in hell of being a success. We didn’t run into situations we knew we had no chance of winning, Sawyer. Which is why we’re both standing here right now. I’m not about to change that rule now.”

“And I think the very fact you frame it that way, like it’s life or death, should be telling you exactly how important it is to find that win. If you can’t get that this is also life or death, the life being the one you might have, and the death being the one you’ll never know, well ... I don’t know how else to make you see it.” Sawyer sighed, and said, “As to the other, if Addie okays it, I think we can figure something out with the goat pens. But at least be honest with yourself about why you’re going to all this trouble.”

Seth looked at Sawyer then, and knew that while his friend and former CO looked resigned, what he felt was disappointment. In Seth.

“You’re also going to have to be the one to explain it to Bailey,” Sawyer reminded him, as if the disappointment wasn’t enough of a direct hit. “And you know damn well she’s going to see right through it, too. So, good luck with that. You’ll either piss her off because you’re using her so you don’t have to face your own problems, or hurt her feelings for pretty much the same reason, or—and this gets my vote—she’ll be both.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Seth told Sawyer. “Don’t say anything to Addie.”

Sawyer chuckled then, and the tension between them evaporated, as it always did. “Oh, trust me, if you decide to go that route, it’s going to be all you, brother.”

Seth put his hand on the knob, paused, and turned back. “I appreciate what you’re saying,” he said. “And that you’re returning the favor you think I did for you and Sunny. I mean that. If I screw this up, that’s on me. But, end of the day, it’s my life, my future. Hers, too. I hope you can respect my choices, even if you don’t agree with them.”

“Always,” Sawyer said, without hesitation. “I’m standing on the other side of that hurdle. I just wish you could see the view from here. If you could, you’d do whatever it took to jump over.”

It wasn’t until Seth opened the door that he realized at some point during their conversation, the music had stopped. He knew that partly because of the silence, but mostly because Drake Clarkson was standing on the other side of the door.

Seth also realized that he and Sawyer hadn’t modulated their conversation at all, and standing beside Drake was Pippa. From the look on her face, she’d heard way too much.

“Sorry, man,” Drake said, looking miserable. “I thought Sawyer would want to meet Miss MacMillan. I . . .” He trailed off, because what was there to say?

“It’s okay,” Seth told Drake. “I’m sure he would.” Seth stepped back so Drake could go on into Sawyer’s office, then Seth moved through the doorway, pausing beside Pippa. “Pippa—”

“It’s okay, Seth,” she said, no bite in her tone, nor embarrassment. In fact, it was the utter lack of emotion that gutted him. “You’d already made it clear outside, earlier. And you don’t have to talk to Bailey. I’ll take care of it. And she’ll be good with it. I promise you. Addie and I will see to that.”

He simply stared at her, feeling like he was the small one, and she was the one towering over him.

“If you don’t mind,” she said, “I really would like the chance to say hello to Sawyer.”

Seth stepped aside and she moved into the office, then turned, and very quietly closed the door between them.

* * *

“I thought I told you to take care of that girl.” Mabry’s voice was still hardly more than a rasp following two additional surgeries to finish repairing his leg. “Good dang thing I can’t get out of this bed.”

“You’re doing fine from right where you are,” Seth said resignedly. The past four days had included a call from Addie on Saturday, disinviting him to Sunday supper, saying she only wanted “folks who had the sense God gave them” sitting at her table. Then there’d been the brief conversation with Sunny on Monday when he’d gone out to the greenhouse with some leftover lumber he was donating for use as shelving. She’d been more sad than annoyed, which somehow felt even worse. She’d told him she wished she had the right words and wisdom to share with him, as he’d had for her when she’d been grappling over whether or not to start a serious relationship with Sawyer.

Then there was the glare he’d earned from Bailey yesterday when she’d come to tend her goats. Apparently, Pippa hadn’t been quite as successful in keeping her promise there as she’d hoped, though Seth could have told her that. Shoot, even Hattie Beauchamp, the older woman who owned and ran Bo’s, the only diner in town, had shaken her head and made a tsking sound when she’d stopped by his booth to top off his coffee just that morning. The only one who hadn’t castigated or counseled him at this point was Will, and that was probably only because Seth hadn’t seen him as yet.

“I won’t even ask how you heard,” Seth said, pulling up a chair so he could sit beside Mabry’s hospital bed. It had been a week and a half since the accident, and the old man had finally been upgraded to stable and was out of intensive care. Seth had been by to talk to Maggie numerous times, both at the hospital and the farm, to see if there was anything he could do to help, as well as get updates on Mabry’s condition. Today was only the second day Mabry had been allowed to have visitors. Maggie had kept it to just her and his grandsons for the first day. Seth had been the next one on Mabry’s request list.

“Maggie told me,” Mabry said. “Pippa’s been helping her, running errands in exchange for using old Bluebell. They talk. Maggie likes her.” He smiled then. “That was my wife’s buggy, you know. That’s what she called that old Chevy. Her bluebell buggy.” The old man paused to clear his throat, his voice sounding a little thicker when he continued. “I’m happy to see it in use again. Haven’t let anyone drive it since Annie passed.”

“I’m sorry, Mabry. I didn’t know. We just thought—”

Mabry waved a hand. He looked frail now. The liver spots on his hands stood out in stark relief, and the lines in his face, earned from decades of working in the sun, seemed even more deeply grooved. “No, I intended her to use it. Annie’d be happy. Probably cross with me for not getting her buggy out and about sooner.”

“Well, that’s very kind of you. I can tell you that Pippa loves that old Chevy.” Seth’s smile grew. “And I promise she’s driving it on the right side of the road. In fact, you’d think she’d been driving around here all her life.”

Mabry smiled, then coughed again. Seth picked up the cup of water on Mabry’s bedside table, but the old man waved it away. Seth had always thought of Mabry as being timeless, but he looked every one of his eighty-four years right now.

“Once I saw her toot around on that snowmobile, and hearing about her brother, I knew she’d be fine,” Mabry said. “A stuntman. Can you beat that,” he went on, wonder in his voice. “Did she tell you about him?” He shook his head. “Made me wonder what a fella had to do in life to land in that kind of occupation.”

“Be half crazy?” Seth offered with a chuckle, then leaned forward in alarm when Mabry’s laugh led to a long, watery bout of coughing. “Can I call the nurse for you?”

Mabry shook his head, but this time he did motion to the cup of water with a bent straw sitting in it. Seth picked it up, and angled the straw so Mabry could take a sip.

“Damn tubes they put down my throat,” Mabry said. “Feels like they scoured the inside with sandpaper. Can’t get that tickle out. Tried to tell them if they’d let me have something stronger than water, with a little body to it, I might heal a darn sight faster.” He motioned for another sip, then leaned back on his pillow once Seth had set the cup down. “Think I’ve got the twins talked into smuggling me in a nice chocolate milkshake. We’ll see how that pans out.”

Seth grinned. Mabry might look like he was one step away from death’s door, but Seth knew the old man was too stubborn to go quietly. “I’ll see if I can lend a hand there.” And he would, just as soon as he consulted with Mabry’s team of nurses.

“I appreciate that,” Mabry said. He rested for a few moments, and Seth sat back in his chair again. “So,” he said, at length, “is it that you’re blind, or just plain stupid then?”

Seth let his head drop back and closed his eyes. So much for getting around that particular lecture. As a reply, he said, “Pippa and I agree on this. We’re adults, and in charge of our personal lives. I’m sure she appreciates, as do I, that everyone is so concerned about our well-being, but—” Seth broke off as Mabry’s earlier words came back to him. “Wait, are you saying Pippa talked to Maggie about me? About us?”

“As I understand it, there is no us. And if you and Pippa were really being so gosh-darn adult, you’d be talking to each other like normal people do—and by normal, I mean people who don’t have their heads stuck up where the sun don’t shine.” Mabry shook his head. “It amazes me that you kids today manage to procreate at all, given how scared you are by the least little thing.”

“I hardly think living an ocean apart, leading lives that couldn’t be less alike, is a little thing,” Seth said, then swore under his breath for being drawn into defending his choices. Again. “She hasn’t been here two weeks yet. We hardly know each other.”

Mabry waved a frail hand. “Sometimes it takes years to see it. Other times, you know it the instant you lay eyes on one another. That’s how it was for Annie and me. I knew the first night I kissed her I was going to marry her. Shoot, I knew the first time I made her laugh.”

Everything about Mabry’s statement resonated in a place so deep inside Seth he couldn’t refute it. Memories flashed like a series of rapid-fire photographs through his mind. Pippa laughing with him, Pippa doing her little curtsies, Pippa scolding Dex, giggling with Bailey, batting her lashes at him and asking for a Shetland pony. He’d known her less than twenty-four hours then, and his heart had definitely already felt a wobble.

“All I know is,” Mabry went on, drawing Seth reluctantly from his thoughts, “back in my day, when a man met a woman who turned his head sideways and his heart upside down, he didn’t go whining about how unfair life was. He went after her and the world be damned.”

Seth sat there as Mabry’s words settled way down deep inside him and took up permanent residence. No amount of pretending, ignoring, or distracting was going to shake them loose. The truth was like that. Seth smiled, both amused and resigned. Amused that he’d ever really thought he was going to forcibly manage his feelings about Pippa. And resigned for the exact same reason. “You know, Mabry, I’ve been talked to and glared at all week about this, but that’s possibly the frankest, most direct advice I’ve been given yet.”

“You gonna take it?”

Seth stood and picked his jacket up off the back of the chair. “If I was going to listen to anyone, it’d probably be you.”

“So, I take it that’s a no, then.” Mabry shook his head. “Remind me on my hundredth birthday, when you’re old enough to look back and wonder what in the hell you were thinking, letting something this good pass you by, to kick you in your behind with my good leg, and tell you I told you so. And believe you me, I won’t take any pleasure in it, but I’m damn well gonna do it.”

Seth chuckled. “I don’t doubt that for one second.” Seth offered the old man another sip from the cup, then set it back on the table.

“Young people these days,” Mabry muttered just as a nurse bustled in.

“Visiting time is up, I’m afraid,” she said kindly.

“I was just heading out,” Seth told her.

“Don’t forget that other little matter we discussed,” Mabry told Seth.

Seth frowned for a moment, then remembered. The milkshake. “I won’t,” he said, then intercepted a warning look from the nurse that Mabry couldn’t see from behind her. Seth winked at her, then nodded to Mabry. “Don’t give these ladies a hard time now. They’re the only thing standing between you and freedom.”

“They love me here,” Mabry told him. “Don’t you, Miss Frieda? Best patient they ever had.”

“Of course, we do,” the nurse said, smiling indulgently at Mabry as she looked over his chart and consulted the tray she’d brought in lined with a row of little plastic cups, each filled with a variety pills.

Seth let himself out, then let out a long, relieved sigh once he was back outside in the parking lot. Partly because he was free of the hospital itself, but mostly because despite how perilously old and infirm Mabry had looked, Seth had no doubt that if a full recovery could be made, Mabry would make it happen. “Stubborn old people these days,” he murmured, then smiled.

Seth glanced at his phone to check on the time and nodded. He was set to meet Will up at the vineyard to go over some stone repair work. Will had done much of the stonework restoration on the mill himself, which had been a monumental task. He’d also been the one to talk Sawyer into redoing the mill’s roof with slate shingles rather than the metal roofing that had been original to the century-old building. Seth had agreed with Will and pitched in when he’d made his argument to Sawyer, then wished he hadn’t when all three of them and a handful of other locals had spent days up on that roof under a blazing sun tacking them all into place.

Seth was going over in his mind the list of things he wanted Will to look at, so he didn’t see Pippa leaning against Bluebell, which she’d parked right next to his big pickup, until he almost tripped over her.

“How’s Mabry?” she asked without preamble. “Tell me the truth,” she cautioned him. “I want a frank appraisal. I’m going in to see him this afternoon and it’s making me nervous. Maggie said he asked to see me. She also said you were going to visit him this morning. I know you and I aren’t supposed to be talking or whatever, and I kept my promise about not being at the vineyard. But Mabry was in intensive care for so long and with the extra surgeries, I’ve been worried sick about him. Maggie doesn’t show it, but I sense she’s been worried, too, and I knew you’d give me the straight truth.” She lifted her hands and let them fall. “So, here I am. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Slow down, slow down,” Seth said gently, and started to reach for her without thinking. She sidestepped away before he could touch her, which startled him. “Sorry. I was just . . .” He shook his head. “Never mind.” He took a short breath, then looked up to find her standing several feet away now, arms crossed, but with an intent, worried look on her face. If there was any doubt she’d come here to discuss anything other than Mabry’s condition, that resolved it. This wasn’t about him, about them. Do I want it to be?

“He looks his age,” Seth said, stepping back until he leaned against the side of his truck. Just two friends, sharing some much-needed information.

“Have they said anything about whether he’ll be able to walk again? Maggie told me about the second blood clot, the emergency surgery. And that after the first one he had to deal with an infection that wouldn’t go away.” She shook her head. “I keep thinking he’s just going to bang his way through this, but it seems like things keep stacking up against him.” She sighed and wrapped her arms more firmly around her waist.

“I think when you first see him, you’re going to feel your worries are spot-on. But—” He lifted his hand when her gaze flew to his. “But,” he repeated calmly, “as soon as you start talking to him, you’ll realize he’s got this. And I truly think he does. If anyone can overcome such awful injuries and get back on his feet, it will be Mabry Jenkins. Mark my words on that.”

Pippa let out a shaky sigh of relief. “That’s more or less what Maggie told me, but I worried that she’s just projecting confidence to make herself feel stronger for her father’s sake, you know?” She rubbed her arms, then finally let her hands fall by her sides again. “I knew you’d be straight with me, and I just wanted to be prepared. I’m so bad at this. He doesn’t need to see me being all fluttery and freaked out.”

“He’s happy knowing you’re driving Bluebell. Turns out his wife named the truck. It was hers.”

“Oh!” Pippa gasped, and her expression crumpled a bit. “That’s so lovely.” She looked and sounded truly touched. “Are you sure he’s okay with that?”

“Very sure.”

She nodded. “Good. Okay. I love that old heap,” she said. “I truly do.”

“I told him as much. It made him happy and he said Annie, his wife, would be happy about that, too.”

Pippa smiled, nodded, and let out a little sigh of relief, but the worry and the nervousness were still clear on her face.

The two stood there for another few moments, the growing silence not uncomfortable, but not entirely comfortable, either.

“Pippa—”

“Seth—”

They both spoke at the same time, then smiled. “You first,” he said. He thought she might do her little curtsy and was more disappointed than he should be when she didn’t.

“Nothing, I just thought ... what I mean is . . . I want you to know, I didn’t come here to say anything else ... I truly didn’t.” She folded her hands together in front of her and stared at them for a moment, then looked back up at him. “I know we agreed it’s best to stay to our own paths. But this is a small place, and I also know that everybody knows. About us. About us choosing not to be an us. And I feel like the whole town is waiting with bated breath for something to happen.” She smiled then. “You have no idea how much Blue Hollow Falls has in common with the village I grew up in. I’d forgotten just how deep into everyone’s pocket everyone could be.”

“I know you were hoping for more privacy,” Seth said, unsure what else to say.

“No, it’s not that. Surprisingly, it’s not. Actually, now that I’ve met so many people, I’m more at ease. They’re all so lovely, and so kind. It reminds me of home. People from my village will make Moira feel the exact same way. I know that, so I know I’ll be fine here.”

“Good,” he said, meaning it. “I’m happy to hear that.” Which was true, but he felt oddly left out, knowing she was establishing an identity for herself in town, and he wasn’t going to be any part of that. He would have enjoyed seeing her discover his newly adopted town, enjoyed sharing her thoughts and reflections on how the place struck her, in comparison to how he’d come to love it. He’d have enjoyed watching her with people, and vice versa. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel remiss in watching out for her, even if she didn’t need him to.

He couldn’t shake the look on her face that day beside the creek, the trust she’d put in him. Trust he knew damn well she didn’t just go handing out. And he’d turned away from her. “I’m sorry for making this more complicated than it has to be,” he said quietly. “That day, by the creek, you said some very kind things, about the friendship we’d begun. I couldn’t say it then.” Because I was still reeling to learn I wasn’t the only one falling. “But, I appreciate that, and I feel the same way.”

She glanced up at him then, looking uncertain.

“What I mean is, I’m here to support you, any way you need. If we need to talk ... like today, right now . . .” He lifted his hands, let them drop by his sides. “Then we should talk. I’m glad you’re happy here, glad to know this place is working its magic on you, in whatever way you need it to.”

He watched as she took a steadying breath; then she nodded. “Thank you. That’s . . . a lovely thing to hear. I appreciate it.”

She looked small, and vulnerable, and he was making things harder, when he’d been trying to do the opposite. He curled his fingers into his palms to keep from doing what he wanted to do, which was to say the hell with all this and reach for her. That wouldn’t help either one of them. So, he said what he had to say, not what he wanted to say. What he’d wanted to say since she’d walked away from him at the mill. Don’t leave. “I don’t want you to feel pressured by other people’s opinions,” he said, and winced when she let out a dry, humorless laugh. “At least you’re getting the supportive gestures. I’m the one getting all the lectures.”

Her eyebrows lifted at that. “Are you now?”

He frowned. “Are you getting them, too? Because I’ll make sure—”

“You’ll do no such thing,” she told him. “People express themselves—it’s what they do. That they care about you and your happiness is abundantly clear and I know that’s at the core of all this, so it doesn’t bother me so much. It speaks well of you, and well of them, that you’re all looking out for one another.” She smiled briefly. “Even when you wish they wouldn’t.”

He smiled back, and it was on the tip of his tongue to ask her if she’d begun writing any music, if she’d found herself wanting to play up on that little stage at Sawyer’s place. He knew she hadn’t yet, or it would have been the talk of the Falls, but he wanted to ask about it anyway. She’d trusted him with her big revelation, and he felt he was letting her down by not following through. He wanted to tell her that when folks weren’t giving him the side-eye for not sweeping her into his arms and riding off into the sunset, they were gushing about what a lovely young woman she was, and how they couldn’t believe she was so down-to-earth, as normal as you please. Her surgery was common knowledge, even to the folks who hadn’t known who she was at first, and everyone understood she’d be ready to sing and play when she was ready. Though it didn’t keep them from urging him to urge her to give it a go.

“I’d better get on with my errands, then,” she said, breaking into his thoughts. “I’m glad we talked. I’ve felt ... not bad, but not good, either, about how we left things, by the creek. If that makes sense.” She paused, looked up at him. “Thank you for letting me know. About Mabry.” She pulled the set of truck keys from her pocket and offered him a smile. “See you around, Seth.”

“Yeah,” he said, “see you around.” But she was already in the truck, starting the engine, then driving away. He supposed he should feel better now. They were on the same page. Even though the entire population of Blue Hollow Falls was seeing scattered rose petals and hearing wedding marches, he and Pippa could and would handle this. “Like the adults we are,” he grumbled, climbing into his own truck. He tried not to ask himself why, if things were so damn great now, he felt even more like absolute crap than he had before.

Some of Mabry’s truth-telling played through his mind. Back in my day, when a man met a woman who turned his head sideways and his heart upside down, he didn’t go whining about how unfair life was. He went after her and the world be damned.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t explain what happens when the world comes calling, demanding that life go on,” he muttered. “What then, Mabry?” He put the truck into gear, then barked out a laugh as he listened to himself. “Sure sounds like whining to me, Brogan.” So, what are you going to do about it?