“Last weekend. Though you’d never know it the way Henry and the boys tear through my treats. Why are you giving me a hard time? If I want to dream about apple orchards, leave me be.”
That started another round of good-natured sniping in the backseat. Dane listened, smiling. It reminded him of when he and his two brothers were younger, fighting over the last slice of pie or brownie in the pan. Now Ben and Rafe were living in the city, Ben in Seattle, and Rafe in Portland, a long way from the farm in terms of miles and lifestyle. Dane couldn’t imagine. He was a homebody.
He glanced over at Hilary. “And your sister-in-law isn’t here. That’s kind of a problem.”
Another shrug.
“So, you two will partner up on this new venture?”
A small nod. “That’s the idea.”
“How did you end up on the North Dakota flight if you came from Boise? Direct flights weren’t available?”
“My sister-in-law booked connecting flights to save money.” Hilary shook her head and turned toward the window again, watching the landscape pass by. “Funny, now she’ll pay more in the long run,” she mumbled. “If she decides to come.”
Maybe he should stop asking questions. He was beginning to feel intrusive; she didn’t want to share anything beyond answering his questions in as few words as possible. Besides, Yandi and Meg had no trouble carrying on the conversation for all of them.
They pulled into the gravel drive at Blueberry Point Lodge at a quarter till twelve. Darcy had ordered sack lunches for the tour group, which she loaded into the bus in gray totes when Dane pulled in nearby. He unlocked the hatch again and deposited bags on the ground. Hilary’s were the last ones in the SUV.
“I can get mine,” she said as she heaved her suitcase from the back. Her shoulder bag bumped him as she maneuvered the heavier luggage.
Dane stepped back. “No problem.”
She didn’t acknowledge him and was already walking toward Darcy and the larger group, suitcase trailing behind her.
Dane shut the lift gate. He watched her retreating back. He couldn’t help but wonder if he hadn’t said something to turn her off. He huffed. No, he had to stop thinking like that. Always shouldering the blame wasn’t healthy. Sometimes it was on the other person.
Chapter Three
Hilary gazed up at Blueberry Point Lodge as she trudged toward the entrance with Meg and her mother. It was one of the grandest buildings she’d ever seen, all chimneys and windows and one of those carport things she imagined had sheltered its share of guests arriving for fancy events long ago. And the view of the lake was stunning. The back of the house faced the water and while she couldn’t see it yet, she knew whoever built this house had taken full advantage of that view.
Pea gravel crunched under her feet as she pulled the suitcase along behind her. It was a lonely sound, her solitary footsteps. Jorie should have been there. This was never something she intended to do by herself, attend a farming conference. Maybe her hosts wouldn’t miss her if she stayed in her room until Jorie arrived.
Don’t be ridiculous. You can do this.
Getting off the farm actually felt good. She hadn’t left it much since the accident. Jorie and her husband had been dropping hints and invitations for months. “Come with us to Spokane for the weekend. We’re taking the trailer,”Jorie offered early last spring. Hilary immediately dismissed the idea, telling her it was way too soon. Then over Thanksgiving weekend, Jorie tried again. “How about we check out that new B & B near Kennewick? We’ll write it off as a business expense.” That didn’t happen either. Each time they offered to take her somewhere, Hilary was armed with an excuse. Then Jorie showed her the webpage for Blueberry Point Lodge and the conference for small farmers scheduled for this summer. Hilary realized something changed inside her because her knee-jerk response to say “no” didn’t happen. But that was before Jorie missed the flight. Now Hilary was stranded hundreds of miles away in a strange place, and the only place she wanted to be was home.
“Welcome, ladies!”
Hilary startled.
The black-haired woman she’d seen loading a tub into the tour bus in the parking lot caught up to them.
“I’m Darcy Stetman, your hostess for the week. I’ll show you to your rooms so you can drop off your things, then we’ll need to make a quick transition for the Hendricks tour.”
“Actually, I’m not feeling all that well,” Hilary blurted. “Headache. From traveling.” If she could beg off for the afternoon, she’d check in with Jorie. Maybe grab a nap too.
Darcy, Meg, and Yandi cried out some variation of “Oh no!”
“You can’t,” said Meg. “This is the equivalent of happy hour.”
“I think I need to. I’d hate to be coming down with something and have to miss more of the week.” Hilary kept her head down. If she looked at them, they might talk her into coming along.
Darcy touched her arm. “We’d hate for you to miss it. Are you sure?”
Yandi shook her bag, rattling its contents. “I have something for headaches.”
“I’m sure. I hope to be well for the dinner tonight. If I can lay down for an hour, I’ll be as good as new.”
