by Jill Lynn
Finn sent the prayer emoji back, and Ivy’s tight muscles unwound. Such a simple thing to have someone praying for her, and yet, she’d never experienced it in this way.
“Hello!” Charlie hurried in the front door wearing her mechanic coveralls and carrying what looked to be the new point-of-sale system.
“Good! It got here in time.” Crazy to think that in one week, they’d have the soft opening. When Ivy had said yes to Charlie, she’d never imagined things would go so fast...or that she’d enjoy it all so much.
“I rushed it.” Charlie plunked the box on the counter. “I was too nervous to chance it being late.” She turned and saw the kids’ space. “Oh, it looks amazing!” She crossed over and ran her hand along the small bookcase that also housed games and toys. “How did you find these vintage toys? They fit the style of the place perfectly.”
“Some were at the thrift store in town, and others I found online.”
“You’re so good at keeping the theme of the café going in every detail. If I had known that before I hired you, I wouldn’t have given you a choice to go or stay. I would have forced you to commit.” Charlie dropped into one of the kids’ chairs and stretched her legs out in front of her. “Thank you for not only thinking of this corner but orchestrating it.” Ivy had priced out the concept before even mentioning it to Charlie. It was an easy thing to do when she trusted that her boss was open to suggestions.
“You’re welcome. Thanks for appreciating my ideas.”
“Always. Are you ready for tomorrow?”
Tomorrow the four of them were being trained on the espresso machine over an online video conferencing call. And then Charlie planned to teach them the ins and outs of the payment processing system since she used the same kind next door.
“I don’t know. I want to say yes, but then my stomach does jumping jacks and tells me I’m not ready for anything.”
Charlie’s cheeks creased. “I’m nervous, too. Honor calls it nervouscited. I’d say that’s a fitting description of my current mood.”
“Me, too. I keep wondering what we’ve missed.” Even though Ivy had followed the detailed planning from Charlie’s original manager, there would be things that slipped through the cracks. If only she knew what those were so she could troubleshoot now.
“When or if something goes wrong, we’ll deal with it and figure it out. At least we’re having a soft opening. People won’t get as upset if something is off, because they know that’s the night we’re working out kinks.”
“And the bachelor auction should distract from any issues.”
Charlie laughed. “Right? Ryker thinks I’m crazy for doing it.”
Honestly, Ivy had thought the same thing. The event could go either way—it could make a lot of people happy or a lot of people uncomfortable.
“Are you planning to have George or Kaia be in charge until you find a new manager? Or are you going to manage them? How’s the hunt going?”
Charlie winced. “Actually...I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.” Hiring a new café manager was something Charlie had said she would handle, so Ivy had been uninvolved with the process so far. “I had an ad out, but all of the responses I received were completely unqualified.”
“I’m completely unqualified. If you hadn’t had the business set-up plan from Tammy, I never would have been able to pull any of this off. So maybe you should look into some of them anyway.”
“You’re not unqualified. You’ve handled everything with the setup like a pro. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without you. My mechanic business would have faltered for sure because I would have been running ragged trying to do everything myself. The thought of you leaving makes me hyperventilate.” Charlie bent her knees and wrapped her arms around them. “Ivy...have you ever considered staying in Westbend? Living here? Because if that has ever crossed your radar, I would ask you to run the café in a heartbeat. I’ve been biting my tongue, trying not to mention the idea because I know your original plan to move to your parents’ still stands. But I can’t stop myself from at least seeing if you’d consider staying.”
Shock had Ivy’s body crumpling into the tiny chair across from Charlie. What in the world? She would never have fathomed Charlie was harboring a notion like that. “I...I don’t know what to say.”
“I realize it’s a long shot, but you’ve done such an amazing job getting the café ready. I hate to lose you. I’m definitely not going to be offended if you say no to staying, but will you think about it?”
“I will.” It only made sense to let the offer sink in and process it overnight. Sleeping on something was always a good idea. Though she didn’t see it as a real possibility, did she? Could she manage the girls and make enough to support them without family and help? Staying for six weeks—seven if she included the week she’d waited for her vehicle to be fixed—was one thing, but staying indefinitely was entirely another, presenting far more challenges. Ms. Lina had only agreed to a short-term gig. Although...the girls could start preschool in the fall. It wouldn’t be the prestigious one her mom had in mind, but they had made friends in Westbend and thoroughly enjoyed the kids in their Sunday school class. They’d probably love it.
I’m jumping too far into the future. Now wasn’t the time to dissect the bomb Charlie had just detonated. Ivy would do it later. Maybe while making dinner tonight...or perhaps after, when Finn could help her process.
Just when Ivy thought she had it all together, Charlie had come along and thrown another wrench in her plans. And the hope that had ignited at her offer... Ivy didn’t know what to do about that. At all.
* * *
Finn had been banished from his own kitchen.
He’d come in from the ranch to find the girls coloring in the living room and Ivy bustling around the kitchen, and his traitor heart had skipped rope like an elementary kid in a competition.
Immediately Ivy had begun clucking at him. “Out! You can’t be in here. Put your blinders on.” She’d made a shooing motion in his direction, as if he’d been rushing the gates of the kitchen when he’d only been taking off his coat and boots and storing them.
“Yes, ma’am.” He’d cleaned up from working and now returned to the front of the house. “Are you sure I can’t do anything to help?”
“No. Now quit being nice and get out of here.”
His chest vibrated with quiet laughter at the reprimand. Whatever she was making smelled like home and childhood and comfort food, so he knew well enough to keep quiet and stay out of her way. He definitely didn’t want to get punished for disobeying.
Finn went into the living room and dropped to a seat on the couch, letting out a groan at his complaining muscles. Between calving season and working on the list of items C.C. had suggested to get the ranch back to optimum performance, he fell into bed each night and slept hard. When he’d settled on the idea of owning his own ranch, he hadn’t realized the kind of mental and physical strength it would take. He felt like one of the calves. Like he was wobbling around on weak legs and a strong gust of wind could take him down.
The girls weren’t watching a movie this time. Instead, each had a coloring book, and markers were spread across the coffee table.
“Look at my flower, Mista Finn.” Lola held the purple and pink petals up for his inspection.
“It’s beautiful. Good job, Lo.”
“Look at mine next!” Reese’s ability to stay between the lines wasn’t as pronounced as Lola’s, but her page was definitely bright and happy.
“Also well done. You girls are little artists.”
They beamed, then bent their heads to continue their work.
“Don’t look at mine until it’s done.” Sage laid an arm over her drawing to block his access.
Finn held up a palm. “Promise I won’t look.”
Sage studied him for a moment as if gauging whether she
should trust his response. Then she went back to work, her arm removed from the drawing again.
Finn held in a chuckle. Sage would be offended if she knew he found her and her sisters amusing. His world was sure going to turn quiet and uneventful again once the three of them—four of them—left for California.
“How’s your week been?” Ivy asked from her perch between the counter and the island. She was pouring drinks now and moving some kind of bread into a serving dish.
“Good, for the most part. Busy.” Finn shared some of what he’d accomplished from C.C.’s suggestions. He did not share, however, that he’d been on a date this week. In the interest of following through on his thoughts after his impromptu dinner with Ivy and the girls last week of wanting to find a partner and have a family someday, Finn had asked out a woman from church. She was smart and successful. Pretty, too. He hadn’t known if they would be a good fit, so he’d asked her out for coffee, thinking that way if they weren’t a match, they wouldn’t be stuck with each other for a whole meal.
They weren’t a match.
Finn had never been so grateful to finish a cup of coffee. The conversation had been stilted and hard to come by. The woman had spoken negatively about so many things that Finn had lost count. It had left him missing the chatter of the girls and the easy dialogue and banter he had with Ivy.
Not good.
Not good at all.
He could tell Ivy about the date—it wasn’t as if they were dating—but something held him back. Probably the fact that he’d implied that Chrissa hurting him was what kept him from relationships when that wasn’t the whole truth.
What Chrissa had been going through was a big piece of the puzzle. And if he told Ivy that, he’d wound her, because she would decipher he had the same concerns about her.
“How was your day?”
“Crazy. I’ll tell you about it later.” Her vision bounced to the girls, communicating that she couldn’t talk about whatever had happened in front of them.
Now he was intrigued.
Ivy carried a large pot over to the table. “Dinner’s ready. Actually, Finn, you can help. You can set the table.” Her sassy grin came into play, momentarily striking him as mute as a junior high boy asked to talk about his feelings.
“What a privilege. Thank you.” He stood and mock-bowed, and she laughed.
Ivy placed fresh buns on the table as he finished setting it along with a container of what looked to be whipped butter.
She waited until they’d prayed before lifting the lid from the covered dish.
He peered inside. Pot roast. It smelled and looked just like his mom’s—carrots and potatoes nestled against the browned beef.
“How did you—Is that my mom’s recipe?”
Ivy nodded, obviously enjoying the moment. “I asked Charlie what your favorite meal was, and she went one step better and got me the recipe from your mom.”
So that was why he’d recognized the scent.
“Ivy.” Finn swallowed. “This is a really good surprise. Thank you.”
“Though you were pretty terrible about not bugging me about it, weren’t you?”
“I was pretty terrible. I had no idea that I couldn’t handle a surprise until this week.”
Her mouth curved to match his. “I realize we invaded your life living at the ranch.” She handed him the large spoon. “I just wanted you to know that I see what you did for us, and I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.” He’d thought that Ivy and the girls staying in the bunkhouse would be a drain on him by adding chaos to his life, but that really hadn’t happened. Ivy had been a help, not a hindrance. Could he be wrong about staying out of her life in other ways, too? The sense of relief he felt at that possibility surprised him as much as her dinner had.
It wasn’t until the girls finished eating and asked to be dismissed from the table that Finn had a chance to question Ivy about her day.
“So? What happened today?”
With her head down and her fork making race car patterns around the excess food still left on her plate, he would guess she hadn’t heard him.
The fact that Ivy had barely eaten was a crime, because the meal was amazing.
“Are you going to eat anything or just stare at it?”
She glanced up, surprise scrawled across her features. “I’m eating.” A half smile formed. “Sort of.”
“I’m guessing whatever happened today has been on your mind all dinner.”
“Sorry I haven’t been great company.”
“You were fine.” Even without her carrying the conversation, Finn had still enjoyed the time with her and the girls.
“So what was it? Something with your parents?”
“Nope. Not them this time. It was your sister, actually.”
Oh, boy. Did he want to hear this? Finn didn’t care to get involved with anything between Charlie and Ivy.
She glanced at the triplets, making sure they were occupied, before continuing. “Charlie asked if I’d consider staying in Westbend to run the café.”
Finn reeled as if twenty pounds of bricks had just landed on his bare feet. “She what?”
“Right? I was in shock. I am in shock. I instantly disregarded the idea, because it’s impossible. Isn’t it? But I also can’t stop thinking about it.”
He could understand that. This was huge.
“What am I supposed to do? How am I even supposed to process something like this? I’m so confused.”
Finn set his fork down on top of his cleared plate. He’d had three helpings and was trying to resist a fourth. “If you stick around and it means more dinners for me, I’m going to need a personal trainer.”
She waved a dismissing hand. “Please. You work it all off throwing around bales of hay or whatever you do out on the ranch.”
Humor surfaced. “Speaking of the ranch, I once promised the girls I’d take them out to feed the cattle, and I never followed through. Would Saturday work?”
“They would love that. That would be great. Thanks.”
“Good. Now back to your dilemma.”
Her groan spoke volumes.
“If you’re this upset by the offer, that must mean you’re at least a little bit interested. Right?”
She froze, then reluctantly nodded.
“All right. What are the benefits of moving to California?”
“My parents are well off. They’ll make sure the girls have whatever they need. They’ll pay for the best preschool, not that I’m even sure I want the girls to go there, but still. I’d have help. Everything wouldn’t be just on me. The pressure to provide wouldn’t be solely on me. My parents will likely hold it against me that I need the help, but at the same time, they’ll provide it. Even if it does come with a guilt trip.”
“And what are the benefits of staying in Westbend?”
“We’d get to build our own life.” Did she know how her eyes perked with interest at that? “The girls would grow up in a small town. They’d have the freedom to play and be kids and mess up and get dirty and skin their knees. My mom has all kinds of lessons and things planned for them. The idea is suffocating. I keep telling her no, thank you, but she won’t listen. I’m not sure if she thinks I’m refusing because of money, but I’m not. I just want the girls to have a relaxed childhood. They’ll be in school long enough. Plenty will be required of them as they grow up. Is it so wrong to let them be kids right now?” Her voice fired up, heating, growing with determination as she delivered the last question.
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Finn checked his gut. Did he want Ivy to stay or go? He wasn’t sure. He cared about her well-being and that of the girls. He had to wonder if staying in Colorado would be good for all of them. Certainly Ivy could do it—she could raise the triplets without her parents’ assistance. And if she did, that would als
o mean she wouldn’t have her parents’ intrusion. But at the same time, her folks could certainly provide a higher level of living for them.
He was torn for her and with her. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“You don’t have any advice for me? A well-thought-out plan I can follow?”
“Unfortunately not.” And even if he was leaning one way, he couldn’t tell her that. He didn’t want his opinion to sway her. It would be getting too involved. It would be too much like what had gone down with Chrissa. Ivy had to figure this out on her own.
But he could pray. “I don’t have an answer, but I can pray for you to know what to do.”
She inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. “That would be great. Thanks, Finn. And on the off chance we did decide to stay, we wouldn’t live in the bunkhouse. I’d find something with a kitchen where we aren’t invading your world.”
And how lonely would that be? But she was right, of course. The bunkhouse wasn’t a good long-term fit.
“I might not have answers for you, but I believe you’ll know what to do. You have great instincts from what I’ve seen. You just need to trust them.”
“I’ve beat myself up over having terrible instincts forever. Before Lee I would have agreed with you, but somewhere along the way I lost them like one of the girls trying to keep track of both gloves.”
“Did you see red flags with Lee?”
“A year and a half ago, I would have told you no. But now that I’ve worked through so much, I’d say yes. They were there. I just didn’t see them.”
“Or you didn’t want to see them.”
“Exactly.”
“It was the same with me and the woman in North Dakota. The signs were there. I just didn’t want to read them.”
“Well. That makes me feel better, because you seem like you have your life all together and figured out.”
“That’s definitely not the case. And for all that you’ve been through, Ivy, you’re a champ. You make it look easy raising three girls, stopping to open a café when your car breaks down in the middle of a cross-country trip. Not a lot of people could handle what you have, and you’ve handled it well.”