“Have you seen Lucy?” Vick asked, approaching Kat at the reservation desk.
She tapped a finger to her chin. “Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen her for a few hours. Not since she went upstairs this morning to put a few finishing touches on the Zephyr Suite. Our first guest is arriving today.”
“Congratulations.” He managed a small smile despite the nerves plaguing him all morning.
He’d thought of a few excuses to get out of today’s event but couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger. “We were supposed to meet out front before heading to Yarnfest.”
“Why don’t you check upstairs? And would you mind setting this in the welcome basket while you’re there?” She handed him a box of chocolates from Sadie’s Sweet Shop.
“Will do.” He headed toward the staircase, half hoping Lucy had forgotten about today. The knowledge that he might have misjudged her only added to his apprehension about spending time together. He already found her dangerously attractive. What if all his previous objections had no basis in reality?
Since he’d sworn off dating, he needed the consolation of their irredeemable differences to maintain a safe distance.
Halfway down the hall, he spotted Lucy emerge from the Zephyr Suite.
Something immediately seemed odd about her stride, and as she drew nearer, he noticed a distinct pallor to her complexion.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why?” She ran her fingers through her hair, smoothing down the flyaways.
Were her fingers trembling? He used to see similar symptoms during field exercises when recruits skipped meals to make their weight.
“You look pale. Have you eaten anything today?”
“No, I haven’t. That must be it.” Her rushed answer triggered suspicion.
Would hunger explain the strained squint of her eyes? Or the smear of mascara around the edges, as if she’d been crying.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Uh-huh.” She swiped at the smudges, forcing a smile.
But he wasn’t convinced. “I have to drop this off in the suite, then let’s grab something quick to eat from the kitchen before we leave. And I’ll drive this time.”
She didn’t argue, which surprised him. Even more strange, she sat silently in the passenger seat for most of the trek into town, alternating between sips from her water bottle and nibbling on a plain slice of toast.
On high alert, he stole frequent sideways glances, trying to gauge whether or not to voice his concern.
Fortunately, by the time they parked and joined the hustle and bustle in the town square, her spirits had lifted and most of the color had returned to her cheeks.
Although, something still seemed off.
He decided to keep a watchful eye on her as they toured the booths, just in case something shifted again.
As far as Vick could tell, Yarnfest was a humongous artisan fair featuring textile arts and crafts with added quirks in true Poppy Creek fashion.
Most of the activities were centralized in the spacious town square, but the Western-style storefronts lining all four streets were adorned with woven signs featuring festive puns like Paid in Wool, and I’ve Got a Knotty Habit.
Across the lawn, he spotted Bill Tucker and two of his alpacas, Perry and Como, near a stand selling scarves made out of their spun wool.
Vick waved, but Bill was too busy keeping Perry from spitting on an unsuspecting tourist.
On their way to view an antique loom from the 1800s, they passed a knitting contest where several women—and one burly man with an intricately braided beard—wielded long needles with lightning speed, attempting to complete a round potholder before the others.
Behind the camera lens, Lucy’s lack of energy was even more apparent. She smiled and said all the right things, but she’d lost the light in her eyes.
As soon as they got enough footage, he replaced the lens cap and slipped the strap from around his neck. “I’ll be right back.” He trotted toward his Jeep and tucked the camera in the footwell.
For a split second, it occurred to him that he had the perfect excuse to take off. They’d finished their mission. He didn’t need to stay. He could tell Lucy goodbye and be done with it.
Wavering, he glanced over his shoulder.
Lucy perused a display of cashmere gloves, keeping to herself. Normally, she’d be chatting up the artisan, charming them with her gregarious smile and engaging sense of humor.
With a decisive stride, Vick rejoined her in the square and gently placed a hand on the small of her back.
Big mistake.
An unexpected current surged up his arm, and he yanked his palm away, startled by the sensation.
She met his gaze, a questioning glint in her eyes.
He cleared his throat. “There’s something over here I thought we should check out.”
Ignoring the heat snaking across his chest, he led her to a stand selling something called Bird’s Nest Baklava.
The interesting-looking dessert did indeed resemble a mini bird’s nest, crafted from sinewy strips of dough threaded together with a cluster of honey-glazed pistachios in the center.
Visually, each bite-size morsel was a work of art. And perfectly matched the quirky theme of Yarnfest.
“Hi, you two.” Beverly Barrie greeted them with a warm smile that creased the corners of her pale periwinkle-blue eyes.
From the moment he met the head librarian, Vick liked her. On the outside, she looked prim and proper with her endless wardrobe of pastel cardigans and white hair coiled in an elegant bun. But he’d never met anyone more knowledgeable about epic Westerns and military sci-fi. And since arriving in Poppy Creek, he hadn’t checked out a single library book he didn’t enjoy, thanks to her recommendations.
He still found it hard to believe the winsome, soft-spoken woman had married Frank Barrie, the legendary town hermit who’d only recently rejoined society. The man’s brusque demeanor and rusty social skills could be off-putting, to say the least.
Not that he couldn’t relate.
After a few minutes of chitchat, Beverly handed them a plate of baklava with a brief explanation of the unique treat and its tie to Frank’s Armenian heritage.
A heavy weight settled in Vick’s stomach whenever someone spoke about their culture or background.
Since his father left before he was born, and his mother never talked about him, Vick always felt like half of his identity was missing. Which only magnified his state of isolation, even before he lost everyone who had ever mattered to him.
Beverly handed Lucy a second plate and nodded toward a neighboring booth. “Would you mind taking this over to Frank? He’s been helping Cassie serve coffee at the donation drop-off all morning, and he’s starting to get the look.” She pursed her lips, giving her best sour-faced expression. “Something sweet will help stave off the surliness, which I know we’ll all appreciate.” She laughed, light and delicate. The sound had the same melodic quality of his mother’s laugh, like a songbird welcoming the sunrise.
At the thought of his mother, bitter remorse rose like bile in his throat.
Why hadn’t she told him about her illness? Maybe he could’ve done something. Or at least helped her through it.
Instead, she’d been ripped from his life without him even knowing anything was wrong.
And he wasn’t sure he could ever forgive her for that… no matter her reasons.
Lucy popped the bite-size baklava into her mouth, savoring the surprising crunch and syrupy sweetness of the honey.
She almost hadn’t come today, unsure if she’d be able to handle the noise and commotion since the aftermath of her migraines could last anywhere from a few hours to a few days. About a month ago, they’d sprang out of nowhere, occurring once a week or so. After the first two or three, she’d finally made an appointment to see Dr. Dunlap, who appeared concerned at their sudden and unexplainable development. It also didn’t help that her symptoms were inconsistent, varying in severity from one episode to the next.
At least this time, the lingering effects had already started to dissipate, making it possible for her to fulfill her promise. She couldn’t let Kat down. Especially since the first video seemed to be working.
After she’d edited and posted the footage from the Apple Jubilee, she didn’t check on it for a few days, keeping her expectations low. But Kat had phoned early that morning, raving about a new booking for next week and a couple who’d reserved ten whole days next fall for their anniversary, citing the video.
Kat’s excitement had been palpable through the speakers, and she continued to effuse her thanks when Lucy arrived at the inn a few hours later. How could she back out when she knew how much it meant to her?
Luckily, the food and water—and remarkably, Vick’s company—served to alleviate some of the symptoms. Hopefully, the caffeine-rich coffee at Cassie and Frank’s booth would also help.
“Lucy! Just the woman I wanted to see.” Cassie’s exuberant smile encapsulated every part of her being, from her relaxed, welcoming posture to the unmistakable shimmer in her deep-green eyes.
“Hey, Cass.” Lucy felt the last bit of tension slip from her neck and shoulders.
Although they’d met only a few months ago, Cassie Davis had a way of making each person feel like the center of the universe, like she genuinely cared about the nuances of their life. And Lucy had quickly counted her among her closest friends.
“Jack dropped off your donations earlier. Well, he didn’t say they were yours, but the Chanel cashmere sweaters were easy to distinguish from the array of flannel shirts.” She laughed, shaking her head in amusement, then her features softened. “All those items you donated were incredibly generous. And I wanted to thank you in person.”
Lucy sensed Vick’s eyes on her, and she prayed the color of her cheeks didn’t match their heat level. “Not necessary. I was happy to do it.”
Reading her discomfort, Cassie didn’t say anything more about it, busying herself with pouring two cups of aromatic coffee.
Lucy’s heart warmed at the way Cassie hummed softly while she worked, speaking to the level of happiness over the day’s event.
The donations of blankets and clothing were for a cause dear to Cassie’s heart—a veterans homeless shelter in San Francisco that Frank Barrie had secretly supported for years.
When Cassie found out, she took it a step further and crafted a new coffee to serve at The Calendar Café, and sell on their website, all proceeds benefiting the shelter. She called it the Freedom Blend—a bold brew to support the brave.
Once again, Lucy couldn’t help noticing how everyone around her had found the intersection between their passion, talent, and purpose. And they made it look so easy and uncomplicated.
“Is this the Freedom Blend?” Lucy asked, lifting the cup to her lips. The heady aroma of tart berries and rich chocolate tickled her nose.
“No, this is a new one Colt came up with this morning.” Some of the brightness faded from Cassie’s eyes. “We’re really going to miss him once the restaurant at the inn opens full-time.”
Her gaze wandered to Frank at the other end of the booth, who’d been cornered by Frida Connelly. The older woman appeared to be giving Frank a long list of care instructions for the quilt she’d donated.
Cassie didn’t elaborate on her concerns, but she didn’t have to—Lucy had overheard Colt discussing it with Kat the other day. He felt guilty for abandoning Frank, knowing Cassie couldn’t spare any more time from the café. And with Frank’s age and recent health scare, he couldn’t do all the roasting on his own anymore. Which created a conundrum for them all.
Engrossed in her conversation with Cassie, Lucy hadn’t noticed Vick retrieve the camera from the Jeep until she heard the whir of the shutter.
He snapped a handful of shots featuring the booth, and asked Cassie if he could record a brief video while she talked about the shelter.
Behind the camera, Vick’s features softened, a blend of appreciation and something darker—pain, sorrow, remorse? She wasn’t sure. But it was apparent how deeply he cared about the cause.
Although he was stoic and reserved on the outside, she suspected a wellspring of emotion hid beneath the surface.
And if she wasn’t careful, her schoolgirl crush could turn into something much deeper… and far more devastating.