“Profit margins,” he said, shrugging. “You have an apple orchard. I think you should use it.”
B & B’s. Apple orchards. Overhead and profit margins. It all made her head spin. Why couldn’t Jorie have come?
“I don’t think we intend to do anything more than offer a u-pick option.” The discomfort she felt even talking about the business side of Larkin Farms was probably written all over her face. Her ignorance about its operation was so obvious.
“Really? Seems like a lot of trouble taking care of trees if you don’t capitalize on them.”
“Maybe someday. It depends on what Jorie wants to do.”
Dane paused. “You defer to her a lot,” he said, cocking his head, looking at her through one eye.
“I do? I guess because she has the business experience and, well, I don’t.”
Hilary never felt she and Jorie were anything but equal partners in this venture though. They each had their gifts. Jorie’s expertise lie in keeping the books. Her talents lie in stripping wallpapers and refinishing woodwork, anything that didn’t involve actual construction. Converting the farmhouse into a place for guests was a larger project than they anticipated. If anything, Hilary had been the one to coordinate a schedule for renovations and do much of the manual labor herself. It was a welcome distraction when grief over Will’s death threatened to monopolize her thoughts.
But she and Jorie soon found out it would need more work—major work. The foundation near the kitchen was crumbling, something that wasn’t apparent until the evergreen bushes were cut back last summer. Work slowed to a crawl since foundation work hadn’t figured into the budget. Yet Hilary’s optimism for keeping the dream alive—Will’s dream—never wavered. Not until this week, anyway, when she started questioning herself. And now Dane pointed out her dependence on Jorie.
Dane continued, concentrating on his mound of hash browns. “There’s nothing wrong with not being comfortable managing the books. My dad always looked to his brother in business matters, not wanting to be bothered. It wasn’t his strength.”
“I can relate.”
He pointed to her hand with his fork. “Is your husband involved with the plans?”
It was such a casual question, an extension of their conversation, which flowed so easily that she shook her head before it registered what he’d asked. Hilary held her breath. She set the spoon on her plate. Across the table, Lucy chatted with an older woman wearing a “Keep Calm and Farm On” tee shirt, oblivious to her and Dane.
She stared at the ring on her left hand. It usually resided on the other hand where it had been for the last year. For some reason she’d moved it back to her other ring finger during the flight to Duluth. She could think of no reasonable explanation for why she did it. Honestly, she hadn’t given the ring another thought until now. Hilary tucked her hand into her lap and swallowed.
“No,” she said. “He’s not.”
Dane’s fork froze in midair as he stared at her. His expression was neutral, but Hilary could read the questions behind his blank look. He cleared his throat, turning his attention back to the breakfast in front of him.
“Well, it sounds like Jorie is a godsend then,” he said brightly. Dane flipped open his folder as he dug into his breakfast again. “So, what’s on the agenda today?”
Hilary slowly exhaled. Dane’s attention was drawn away from her at the moment. Her pulse thudded in her throat. She swallowed again and opened her folder. While she was thankful he didn’t press the question about Will, the awkwardness still blazed across her skin.
Dane tapped his finger on the agenda. “Look at that. ‘Writing a Business Plan’ is the first topic. Sounds like it’s right up your alley,” he said, nodding. “Too bad your business manager will miss it.”
For the first time that day, she wished Jorie was sitting next to her. Hilary looked at the time on her phone: eight thirty. It’d taken her all of two hours for that thought to cross her mind. An improvement, for sure.
Chapter Eight
When Darcy asked him to present at the conference, she’d mentioned a decent stipend as well as travel expenses. Dane jumped at the chance. Even though it meant leaving for a few days amidst a busy time of year, he could use the break. She’d also offered an even higher sum if he’d lend his expertise in another area: guiding her and Sean’s project of irrigating their flower and herb garden with rainwater runoff. If there was anything he knew, it was irrigation. He’d designed a system for his vegetable garden with the runoff from the barn. Then he’d posted pictures on social media and before he knew it, a few of his friends asked for help with their projects. It had become a pretty good side gig in the off-season. Nothing too high-end, but it was labor intensive, which scared many from taking it on as a DIY job.
Dane took the afternoon off from the Bonnie Acres Bee Farm tour to get a closer look at the project. He’d left Hilary’s side after the business planning seminar to join another group so they could pick his brain. He caught her staring at him from across the room a few times. Two days ago that would have thrilled him. He’d felt drawn to her since they’d talked in the car on Sunday. Her subtle wit and low-key manner captivated him. She seemed grounded, if not a little aloof, but he sensed an underlying warmth that few people probably had the privilege of realizing.
But that ring.
It was a glaring reminder that she was taken. And when he’d asked about her husband at breakfast, her mood shifted like mercury. She’d talked about Jorie’s involvement back home, but made no mention of her husband. So he’d left that one question hanging in the air even though she’d barely whispered an answer. Something wasn’t right.
After the conference group left in the two buses, Darcy helped Dane haul coils of garden hose from the shed near the back of the property. The temperature cooled off since the clouds rolled in. A little breeze ruffled the decaying leaves gathering in small piles against the building, remnants from last fall.
“What do you think of the conference so far?” asked Darcy as she dropped one of the bulky coils at her feet.
“I think it’s fantastic. A good mixture of breakout topics and speakers. And the food—”
Darcy laughed. “I knew you’d say that.”
“Seriously, I wasn’t expecting people to come from around the country.” He snipped the plastic ties holding the hose together, then passed the clippers to Darcy so she could do the same for the coils near her. “I figured it would only be regional folks.”
