Maybe it was for the best.
“What is?” Jorie asked.
Oh, did she say that out loud? She closed her eyes momentarily and the memory of Dane’s expression floated into her subconscious, the way he’d looked at her before they kissed last night.
“I’m thinking of all that needs to be done.” She looked across at Jorie. “Now that I have some semblance of a timeline in my head. When will the contractors be finished?” The last she’d heard it would be within the month. Jorie and Tom coordinated the major work. When they were finished, Hilary would take over with decorating—painting, staining, uncovering furniture. A tiny ripple of excitement ran through her. Honestly, the idea of putting those rooms together was something she’d been looking forward to for months.
“Soon. Very soon.” Jorie gave her a cheesy smile, reaching over to give Hilary a short pat on the leg. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Oh yeah?”
Jorie nodded. “You’re really going to love it.”
Okay.
It was all going to work out. Her life would resume. Dane’s too. It was a week they’d never forget. But one week wasn’t long enough to build a future.
Chapter Eighteen
Several days of rain in Clove while Dane was away left the fields too soggy to work. The plants were at their peak, but harvesting had to wait for the sun to dry them out again. The workers were restless. Today they chose to sit underneath the two cottonwoods on the property, spitting sunflower seed casings into an empty plastic coffee container. That or singing at the tops of their lungs, their preferences running the gamut from Marty Robbins to Pearl Jam. There would be plenty of sun today. And humidity. Sweat broke out on Dane’s forehead even before he left the house. He’d give the workers the go-ahead after lunch to get into the fields.
As much as the impromptu a cappella concert outside lifted his spirits, Dane preferred quiet. He hid out in the distillation shed, which he also used as his office. From his desk he listened to the tranquil sounds of the separation process taking place in the other room. Maria, a longtime family friend from the other side of the valley who ran her own profitable essential oils business online took care of his product lines. She was a self-starter and loved working independently. Sometimes her daughter Kelly came to help. Dane gave Maria free rein to try new products for the farm shop and the online store and considered her a good friend. She was also funny in a very understated way.
“I’m heading out for the day.”
Maria stood in the door, leaning against the doorframe when Dane looked up. She’d startled him. He was lost in concentration, trying to find a mistake he’d made on an order spreadsheet.
He shook the mental cobwebs away. “I’m sorry. What?”
Maria crossed her arms. She was middle-aged with a weatherworn complexion and full head of premature white hair, which was always gathered at the nape of her neck. Maria lived in flannel shirts and polypropylene pants, no matter if it was twenty degrees or eighty. “I put in the last batch, so it’ll be another two hours before it’s finished.”
He leaned back in his chair, using one hand to rake the hair from his forehead. “That’s all right. I have nowhere to go.”
“You work too hard,” she said in a motherly tone.
“It’s energizing.”
“You’ve been quiet since you’ve come home. Is everything all right?” Her expression was sympathetic.
Dane closed his laptop and stood to stretch the kinks out of his back. He’d slept restlessly since coming home from the conference. It was catching up to him.
“It’s nothing that harvest and a good night’s sleep won’t cure.” Liar.
“If you say so. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” She turned to leave but stopped. “You might suggest they throw in gospel a little more often. Josiah has the best voice out there, and he only halfheartedly sings that other stuff.”
Dane laughed. “I don’t call what they’re doing singing as much as yelling in harmony.”
Maria pointed at him. “True.”
“But I’ll put the bug in someone’s ear. See you, Maria.”
After she left the building, Dane walked over to one of the tall windows overlooking the south field. At the height of bloom, the lavender fields were a surreal sight. He never tired of it. The acres of soft purple rows stretched toward the river and disappeared when the land gently sloped as it neared the banks. By the weekend this field would be cleared. Then cuttings would be shipped to retailers, crafters, processed into oil, and dried. Keeping the farm profitable took the expertise and time of many people. Yeah, he owned it, but he wouldn’t fool himself. There was no way he could do it without a lot of help.
His phone beeped, a text coming through. Dane fished it out of his pocket as a small burst of hope filled him. But when he read the text from his brother Ben, reminding Dane that he was flying into Boise on Sunday, that feeling faded as it had each time since last Saturday.
So far, Dane hadn’t heard from Hilary. He promised himself he wouldn’t text or call, even though he composed countless messages only to delete them. Still, he hoped once she read his note she would at least acknowledge it. Dane wondered if Hilary received the message at all until Darcy checked in with him yesterday, thanking him for helping with the conference and wondering if he was settled into his routine again. She brought up the note first. Dane wanted to know if Hilary had opened it right then. But she hadn’t, which left Dane worried that Hilary misplaced it or worse, decided that confronting her sister-in-law was too great an obstacle to overcome now that Dane was out of the way.
He sat at the desk again, kicking up his feet, scrolling through the conference photos on his phone. It was here somewhere—yes, here it was. He and Hilary at the lighthouse on Friday morning, huddled together in the blanket. They’d stood to capture the lake in the background. Hilary inclined her head toward his, he’d hugged her closer, and their smiles were wide and genuine. Then they’d both blinked at the same time when the sun blinded them before Dane took the photo. That and a strand of Hilary’s hair blew across Dane’s face, landing under his nose like a silky mustache. Afterward, Hilary laughed about the photo and asked him to forward that one too. It was the best one of all, she’d said.
