by Olivia Miles
“Well, I’m looking forward to reacquainting myself with the town,” Matt said. “My lens is a little different as an adult.”
“True, after all, you can drink now,” she pointed out, recalling their evening last night—one of the best she’d had in a while, not that she’d be letting on.
“Which means I can finally sample some of your father’s wines,” Matt said with a grin.
“Not just my father’s anymore,” Amelia said. “Now that Britt’s running the place and Robbie is the manager, they’re trying all sorts of new things.” And Robbie’s new wine blend was just the start of things. Britt was using her background as a management consultant to breathe new life into the family business, and the trickle-down effect showed promise of helping Firefly Café too. “Britt has me doing a cooking demonstration at the orchard tomorrow, actually,” she said. “That’s why I’m off to see Gabby. She’s in charge of flowers for the tables.”
“A cooking demo, huh?” Matt’s eyes gleamed. “Sounds fun.”
He was looking at her, as if waiting for her to say more, and even though it was a planned party, and even though it was a work event, she couldn’t see any reason not to invite him. It was her family’s business after all, and if Britt minded, she could always pull Matt in as an assistant.
“It starts at three,” she said. They’d carefully planned that for after hours, because the café never offered dinner on Sundays and closed just after the lunch crowd drifted away for the day.
Now, as he looked at her with an unreadable expression, she wondered if she’d misunderstood his interest.
“Good to know,” Matt said, and with one last flash of that adorable smile, he stepped back, letting her be on her way, up the path to Main Street.
Amelia practically soared into the flower shop, and her smile wasn’t overlooked by Gabby. Her cousin tucked a yellow rose into a colorful bouquet and gave her a knowing look.
“I heard all about it,” she said. “Matt Bradford is back in town.”
Amelia darted her eyes around the shop, but she knew that even if one of the patrons was eavesdropping, they’d probably already heard the news—and knew the backstory. In a town this small, all the locals knew each other, and Matt and Amelia were local lore, much like Britt and Robbie had been.
Only Britt and Robbie had decided to go their separate ways all those years ago. Whereas she and Matt—
“Matt and I are ancient history,” she said firmly, even though it didn’t feel that way just a few minutes ago, when he was looking into her eyes, or last night, when they’d chatted and caught up long past the point where Maddie stopped shooting her suggestive looks.
“You sure about that?” Gabby remarked. She picked up another rose and clipped the stem. “Seems to me that you haven’t really dated since he moved away.”
“I have! I have dated,” Amelia insisted. At her cousin’s raised eyebrows, she conceded, “Just not much.”
Or nearly, not at all. There were drinks with some tourists, of course, and that one summer that she’d gone out a few times with a seasonal hire brought in to help at the yacht club. But nothing serious. Nothing memorable.
For a while, she’d convinced herself that this was a good thing. After all, didn’t she have enough memories for one person? Sometimes, it felt that was all she had.
When Gabby continued to raise an eyebrow, Amelia insisted, “You know how it’s been. I had to hold down the fort. My father was fine running the business, but when it came to the domestic stuff, someone had to step in.”
Dennis Conway had been helpless after his wife had died. He’d tried, but the man couldn’t make a grilled cheese sandwich much less deal with all the drama of multiple adolescent daughters. Britt had taken their mother’s death just as hard, and when she’d left for college in Chicago, it was Amelia who had stepped in, making sure that her family had a hot meal every night, that her younger sisters could turn to her for support, even if she knew she could never replace their mother. It hadn’t been easy, but it had gotten her through the worst time of her life. She needed the purpose every bit as much as they all needed her.
“Cora and Maddie are adults now,” Gabby said simply.
“And my father would be living on cold cheese sandwiches and pretzels if I didn’t help him,” Amelia pointed out. And cider. The man loved his personal blend of hard cider.
“Except that now your father has Candy,” Gabby said, and Amelia sighed heavily.
Yes, now Dennis Conway was getting the royal treatment, practically being spoon-fed high-fat, artery-blocking comfort food by the big-haired girlfriend who had stepped in as his caregiver when he had broken his leg and arm a couple months back and had to take time off from work. No one knew then that his leave of absence would be permanent—or that Candy would be too.
Gabby shrugged and went back to her arrangement, which was far too formal for tomorrow’s wine tasting, but pretty enough to be a centerpiece at one of the local inns.
“Who are these for?” Amelia asked casually, looking to dodge the topic of Matt for a while, and to get her mind off him too.
Gaby glanced at her and away again. “Candy.”
Amelia blinked. “My father’s caretaker, Candy?”
Gabby said, “Well, she’s not really his caretaker anymore, is she?”
True, it had been weeks now since her father had recovered from the injuries he’d suffered from a fall off a ladder in June that had led to him needing professional assistance in the first place. It had been Amelia’s brilliant idea to get him round the clock care—something that none of her sisters would ever let her forget or live down—but she just hadn’t realized at the time the kind of care her father would be receiving.
She sucked in a breath and pushed aside that ache in her chest that always filled the spot her mother once held.
“He’s happy,” she said aloud. She had to remind herself of this every time Candy went for a hug, pulling Amelia close to her soft, ample bosom, which Amelia refused to admit was oddly comforting.
Gabby nodded. “Love has a way of making people happy. Look at you, for example. You’re practically glowing. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your cheeks quite so rosy or your eyes quite so shiny.” She gave a pert smile.
“Very funny,” Amelia remarked.
“Why deny it?” Gabby slid the bouquet to the side. Amelia didn’t even want to think about what the card read. Candy was very fond of pet names, and her father had obliged. “You and Matt were pretty crazy about each other back in high school.”
Amelia nodded. “We were. But that was over twelve years ago.”
“So?”
Amelia stared at her cousin, who could be almost more infuriating than her sisters at times, mostly because unlike her sisters, she saw Gabby as a peer, whereas her sisters saw her as someone who had taken their mother’s place in many ways, starting with the daily cooking. The way Amelia saw it, she couldn’t offer her family much else, but a hot meal after a long, rough day was good for the soul, and it helped her to feel better too.
It was something she could control, and the act of slicing vegetables, following the steps of a recipe, and seeing the smile that so rarely graced her father’s face otherwise, was her own sort of therapy.
“So…” She blinked rapidly, struggling to land on the best excuse. “So he never called or reached out. And he doesn’t even live here. He has a career and an entire life in another city.”
Gabby just tutted. “You are entirely too practical for your own good, Amelia Conway. Next thing I know you’ll be telling me that sending someone flowers is a pointless exercise, too.”
“Well, they don’t exactly last very long,” Amelia pointed out, only half-joking.
Gabby wagged a finger at her. “What you need, dear cousin of mine, is someone to come into town and sweep you off your feet and show you that love is magical and lasting and that it doesn’t always fit neatly into our lives.”
Amelia leaned a hip against
the counter. “And you’re speaking from experience, are you?”
At this, Gabby faltered. She jutted her chin, and resumed clipping rose stems. “I am speaking from experience, yes. Just not the firsthand kind.”
Amelia laughed. Gabby had always loved watching romantic comedies and reading romance novels on lazy summer afternoons. She was one of the prettiest girls in school, who could have had her pick of any of the local guys, but she claimed none of them really did it for her.
Amelia wasn’t so sure about that. She’d seen the way Gabby looked at Jackson Bradford, who was too busy flirting with anyone who passed through town to settle down.
But Gabby had never let on, and so Amelia said nothing. Unlike her cousin, she didn’t see a reason to pry into other people’s love lives, but it would be nice to have one of her own, wouldn’t it? And Matt did say that if his plans worked out that he might be staying in Blue Harbor for quite some time.
The question was, just what were those plans exactly?
4
Britt was already stationed near the big red barn that was the hallmark of Conway Orchard when Amelia pulled up at two o’clock—leaving plenty of time to set up for the wine tasting and the cooking demonstration. Granted, she’d had to all but shoo a few strays from the café so she could close up for the day. Old Lenny could sit at his usual table for hours with the Sunday paper. But when she’d offered him a free cup of coffee first thing Tuesday when the café reopened, he was quick to go.
“Gabby dropped off the flowers at the market this morning,” Britt told her as they took trips unloading the trays of food and pans and plastic containers of prepped ingredients that Amelia would be using. She’d carefully measured everything in advance, knowing that there wasn’t a kitchen she could run to if she forgot anything. “And Maddie went over to visit Dad. I couldn’t exactly say no.”
“It’s fine,” Amelia said briskly. “I didn’t ask her to help out and I’m sure Dad will be happy to see her. Did she save him a pie?”
Britt grinned. “Of course.”
Their youngest sister was still selling a dozen or so freshly made pies with the fruits directly from this orchard at the Sunday morning market, just like their mother had done every Sunday of their childhoods, and, like Maddie, always saving one for their Sunday family dinner.
Sundays were one of the happiest days in their week growing up. No matter the season or the weather, the entire family headed straight to the market in the old converted barn to begin setting up the sales for the day, mostly pints of fruits grown on the land, and jams and ciders, too. Over the years, it had grown, and now Gabby sold some lovely floral arrangements. Tourists stopped in, sure, but the market was a local hotspot. This was where people came week after week.
It was tradition. And folks in Blue Harbor valued tradition. She certainly did.
Britt lowered her voice to a whisper as they walked deeper into the rows of grape bushes at the back of the property: the vineyard that her father and uncle had planted with their own two hands. “As a heads-up, the bachelorette party is already here—and they may already be a little inebriated.”
“May?” Amelia grinned. She didn’t have much personal experience with bachelorette parties—none of her sisters were married and only one of her cousins had tied the knot (and promptly untied it). Few of her friends from school had stayed in town after graduation, and those that remained had either married young or were still waiting for their happy ending.
“So I assume that I should probably get the cheese plate ready before we start the pairings,” she said as they set the last of the trays on the prep station that faced a lovely picnic table set up with bright local flowers and candles and a breathtaking view of the vineyard with the barn off in the distance—possibly the best spot on the land. “Anything else you should warn me about?”
“Only that Candy was already asking about the guy she saw at the café the other night.”
Of course. It was probably Candy’s mission this morning at the market.
“What did you tell her?” she asked, even though she knew that Britt would have her back.
Britt patted her on the shoulder. “Just that he was Robbie’s cousin.”
Sadly, that probably only made Candy more curious.
“Well, there’s nothing to tell,” Amelia said.
Britt raised an eyebrow. “If you say so.”
Amelia shook her head and began assembling the cheese, crackers, and bread on a round wooden tray, and reached for the baskets of freshly picked berries and grapes that Britt had already brought over before she’d arrived. The brie had warmed naturally in the summer sun, and she added a drizzle of homemade caramel and crushed pecans that went well with the plump blackberries. Her stomach grumbled and she resisted the urge to taste test. Maybe back in her own kitchen she would, but not here. Not with Britt pacing back and forth like she was doing now, checking her phone every few seconds. Really, when it came to worrying, the oldest of the sisters won the prize.
She caught her sister’s eye, not liking the way Britt seemed to suddenly be fighting off some secret smile as she set both hands on the work table and locked her gaze. Amelia set down the baguette she had started to slice, her heart skipping a beat.
“Please tell me Candy isn’t here!” she said, and to her relief, Britt shook her head, laughing. “Don’t you think I would have all but shouted that?”
It was true, when it came to Candy, they were a united force. They saw the good in the woman, but they were still adjusting. And Candy wasn’t exactly one for easing into things.
“But there is a visitor,” Britt continued. She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Matt’s here. Robbie just texted me.”
Amelia tried to feign nonchalance but she couldn’t deny the pleasure she felt. So he had come! When she’d casually mentioned the event, she couldn’t be sure that he’d actually taken the invitation seriously.
Then again, his cousin was the manager of the place. And it was market day. And…
Her mouth felt dry. It was possible that he’d come to see her.
Nervously, she went about setting up the rest of the plates as Britt counted out glasses and set up the wine bottles in the order that she would open them. Amelia’s eyes kept drifting toward the various barn-style buildings at the edge of the rows of grapes, looking for a glance of Matt under the pretense of keeping an eye out for the group of women who should really be her top priority at the moment. Really! This was a chance to shine! To show off what she did best. To try her skills at something new and exciting. Something that could be a win for both her and Britt if it went off well.
Britt was clearly anxious—as evidenced by the return of the tight bun that she had worn in her corporate days and then abandoned after returning to the low-key lifestyle that made Blue Harbor so appealing. Today Amelia noted that her sister’s nails were freshly manicured, not a strand of hair was out of place, and she was wearing heeled espadrilles with a white linen shift dress.
Amelia, on the other hand, hadn’t exactly considered her appearance when she’d planned for the day. At least, not too much. Sure, the thought of Matt bloomed, as it had every day since he’d walked into her kitchen, but she needed to be functional, not just presentable. Like her sister, she’d pulled her hair back, as she always did when she was working with food, but the similarities stopped there. Her legs were covered in grass green capris. She wore her favorite canvas sneakers that were comfortable for a long day on her feet. And she fully intended to cover her simple white tee with an apron.
Britt seemed too busy fussing over the details of the tablescape and cross-checking her lists to concern herself with Amelia—or the fact that a group of giggling women was now headed their way. Or rather, teetering.
Amelia pulled herself up straight and put Matt right out of her mind. The guests had arrived, and customers always came first. She was here to plate her dishes and present a little cooking demo using the orchard’s wine and fresh fruit. She was not h
ere to dart her eyes all over the property in the hopes of seeing Matt again.
Still, as the women settled into their table and tasted their first wine, which Britt had clearly spent a lot of time tasting so that she could describe it in such vivid detail that Amelia could practically taste it without sampling any, and Amelia passed around the food pairings, she couldn’t help but catch the ring on the bride to be’s finger and feel an internal twitch at the sight of it.
Her own hands were bare, free of any polish because she would just nick a manicure in the kitchen, and, well, neglected looking. She made a point to give them a little pampering when she went home tonight, and not because Matt Bradford was in town. Gabby was right when she said that Amelia was often too practical for her own good. She might use her hands for nearly every minute of her waking hours prepping food, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy a little polish now and then.
She’d book a manicure tomorrow on her day off, she decided. A treat for all her hard work today.
The first pairing went off smoothly, even though some of the women only picked at their food and asked for refills of the wine. Amelia knew better than to take it personally—she knew that she’d never be able to maintain those slim figures if she tasted all of the rich foods she made, and despite always keeping a focus on healthy and fresh, she wasn’t one to skimp on flavors that enhanced a dish. She supposed that was why she had shapely hips and hadn’t been seen wearing a two-piece bathing suit since the age of twelve.
Not that Matt had ever complained.
She darted her eyes back to the main building of the business, even though she couldn’t be sure that Matt was in there or if he’d left. He’d come early. He’d probably come to see Robbie. She scolded herself as she prepped the last of the plates, so that she could get started on everything she would need for the demo.