by Jo McNally
Lucy stared at the table, then gave in and sat down. He was right—it’s not like he’d invited her to join him for some private, romantic candlelit dinner or anything like that. It was a boxed lunch and wine. Outdoors. He moved to the other side of the table and sat. The grape leaves on the vines brushed his shoulders. He looked from side to side and grinned.
“This reminds me of those old TV shows I used to watch where the stars always ended up stuck in a room with mechanized walls that closed in on them and threatened to crush them.”
She laughed. “Right? And they’d stop the walls with a chair or something silly so they could miraculously escape. Everything was easy in those old shows. All problems solved in sixty minutes or less.” She’d opened her box as she talked, pulling out her turkey sandwich and unwrapping it. She folded the paper napkin on her lap, then looked up when she realized Owen hadn’t spoken.
He was staring at her, his smile gone.
“What is it?”
“I wish our problems could be solved that easily.”
She shook her head emphatically. “No sad puppy eyes, remember? We’re friends, and friends don’t play the guilt card over lunch.”
He straightened with a nod. “You’re right. Sorry.” He uncovered both wineglasses and handed her chardonnay to her. He lifted his pinot for a toast. “Here’s to friendship.” They clinked their glasses together. “But don’t hate your friend for hoping for more.”
“Owen...”
“I know, I know.” He held up his hand. I promise I’m not going to try to convince you of anything today. I’m just saying... He leaned forward. “Tell me the door is still open, even if just a little bit.”
He was so earnest that she found herself starting to believe in this hope he was clinging to. Maybe whatever she needed to leave behind didn’t include Owen? But he had a job waiting for him at home.
“Let’s just say the door isn’t locked.” Her words surprised her as much as it did him. “It may not even be latched. But it’s not open by much, so please...”
He sat back, his eyes warm and...slightly eager. She could tell he was trying to stay cool. He finally smiled. “Say no more. Let’s eat. As friends. Tell me how the flower shop is doing. Are you having as much fun there as it looks?”
A soft breeze ruffled through the vines, making the leaves roll like a stadium crowd doing the wave in a stadium. Owen seemed genuinely interested, and she relaxed at last.
“I am. I mean...you know I love working with flowers, so that’s a natural fit. But it’s been fun trying to drag Connie kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century. She fusses a lot, but she’s actually more open to change than I would have thought. She’s letting me build her a new website and...”
They both took a bite of their sandwiches, and moaned in unison at the flavor. She told him about the small wedding coming up that weekend, where the bride and groom didn’t agree on anything, including the flowers. The original order was pretty basic, probably because that’s all Connie wanted to offer. In the prewedding consult, Lucy noticed the disappointment in the couple’s eyes. She’d suggested a few changes. Adding her favorite hydrangeas to the bride’s bouquet for dimension, and putting the bright orange lilies the groom wanted—what was it with upstate New York and orange?—in the centerpieces instead of the bridal bouquets. They’d left the appointment with smiles, and even Connie had approved, telling her she’d handled it well.
Owen chuckled. “That’s high praise from Connie. She’s not easily impressed. Don’t you find her a little prickly to work with?”
She thought for a moment, not wanting to mention Connie’s physical challenges. “I think she’s had a lot to deal with since her husband left. Then the pandemic hit her business hard—she lost dozens of wedding orders last year. Stress hits everyone differently...”
“Then add dealing with Parkinson’s.”
Lucy looked up from her sandwich in surprise. “She told you that?”
His mouth slanted into a grin. “No, you did. Just now. But I was pretty sure that’s why her hand trembles so much. Plus she told me she’d moved her bedroom downstairs at her house, and she’s not that old that she shouldn’t be able to go up and down stairs.” He took a sip of his wine and grimaced. He’d always been more of a beer guy. “My uncle had it, remember? He was younger than Connie when it started, but the tremor was the same.”
“I know Connie can be...prickly.” She reached over and rescued the wine from Owen. He opened his water instead. “But I think her temper is a coping mechanism.”
“Can’t help with winning over customers, though.”
They both smiled over that undeniable fact.
“No, but I’m hoping I can help her with that.”
He finished his sandwich and unwrapped the cookie.
“Sounds like you plan on being here awhile.” He’d said it calmly, but she could feel the tension right below the surface of his words.
“Maybe. I honestly don’t know.”
Staying in Rendezvous Falls as a part-time florist didn’t seem like a very practical career plan. And yet...it was tempting for some reason. Owen had the cookie almost to his mouth, but he lowered it without taking a bite.
“You...you’re really thinking of staying?”
She didn’t answer right away. Laughter rose up from the other tables on the slope below. It seemed the trial run was a success. She wondered if there was a way to get the flower shop involved. Tiny floral bundles for the ladies to take with them? It would be a good promotion for the shop. She bit into her white chocolate and macadamia nut cookie. If she was thinking of the future of Rendezvous Blooms, she was thinking of her future, too.
“Like I keep telling you, Owen, I don’t know.” Was it fantasy to think she might want both him and a life in Rendezvous Falls? He frowned, then his face smoothed. His smile seemed just a little bit forced. “I’m just saying...there are flowers in Greensboro, too.”
Not according to your mother... Lucy had tried to convince Ed and Faye to let her have just a corner of the nursery for loose flower arrangements, but Faye always had some excuse not to do it.
“Hey, you two!” Whitney Rutledge walked down the row toward them. Her son had woken, and she had him resting on her hip. His chubby hands were playing in her hair, and she winced as he tugged on a strand. “Easy there, tiger.” She peeked into their empty boxes. “Looks like you enjoyed your lunches. What do you think of our little experiment?”
Lucy stood. She was suddenly feeling restless...pressured by her own conflicted feelings about staying or going, not to mention Owen’s obvious opinions about it. She finished off the last of Owen’s wine—hers was long gone—then turned to Whitney with a bright smile.
“The lunch was great, and if you can guarantee weather like this, people will really enjoy dining in the vineyard. I think it’s a great plan.”
Owen also stood, gathering their boxes and glasses into a stack. “I agree. It was a very nice lunch.”
Whitney looked back and forth between them, and Lucy had a feeling more Rendezvous Falls meddling was on its way.
“Did you think it was a romantic lunch?”
Owen answered before Lucy could. “Absolutely.”
Lucy shot him a warning look. “It definitely could be. Our lunch was...friendly. Pleasant.”
“Ouch.” Whitney chuckled, looking at Owen. “Pleasant? What did you do to earn such an underwhelming description?”
“That was sort of harsh.” He grinned. “But we are just friends...for now.”
Lucy was beginning to wonder if they’d ever been just friends. They had a history. And a chemistry. Even now, after everything that had happened, Owen’s smile had the power to send a rush of heat through her. Reminding her why she’d fallen in love with him in the first place.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
OWEN KNEW HE WAS pu
shing his luck with those last two words, but Lucy didn’t object. She hadn’t slammed that door in his face yet, despite him pushing the envelope a few times. Lucy pointed to a small white sign near the trees at the end of their row.
“What does that sign say over there?”
Whitney squinted, holding one hand over her eyes as she followed where Lucy was pointing. “Oh! That’s the trail to the falls. We’ll probably have to take that down, because our insurance guy had a fit when I inquired about letting customers use the path.”
“To the falls? Rendezvous Falls?” Owen asked. “So the county park is on the other side?”
“I’m surprised you’ve even heard about that little park, but yes. That’s on the far side of the creek, and my aunt’s property is on this side. Have either of you been to the falls? I think our view is prettier, but the park has steps to the top of the falls, so that’s nice. But our land is closer to the rock the legend revolves around.”
“We haven’t been...” He cleared his throat. “I...uh...drove by the park but...it was nighttime.” Lucy’s cheeks went pink, but she stayed silent.
“Be careful driving up here at night if you don’t know where you’re going. There are a lot of weird curves and drop-offs, and wildlife that likes to just stand in middle of the road for some reason. Piper went off our road once in the wintertime and scared Logan half to death until he found her.” She caught the pacifier her son dropped in midair and returned it to his mouth without skipping a beat. “I keep telling Luke there should be more streetlights around here, but he reminds me that would be light pollution and that this is the countryside, not downtown Chicago. He’s not wrong.”
“Wait...” Lucy finally joined the conversation. “Did you say there was a legend?”
Whitney gave them a big wink. “That’s where the winery got its name—Falls Legend. My uncle used to tell me the story all the time. This is Iroquois country, or used to be. The confederacy of different indigenous tribes had been living in upstate New York in peace for generations before white people arrived. The Revolutionary War divided the tribes between the British and the colonists. The legend says that two star-crossed lovers from suddenly warring tribes met at the falls...” She wiggled her eyebrows. “And had a rendezvous there to declare their undying love for each other, even though it meant they’d be killed if discovered. An Iroquois goddess saw them, and turned them into a stag and doe so they could run away together. Some people say they can hear them singing in the water.”
She cooed at the baby as the boy snuggled against her neck and closed his eyes. Her voice lowered. “There’s a flat boulder in the water, not far from our side, and the legend says that’s where the couple stood. And that any couple who stands on the rock and declares their love will be together forever.”
Owen could see that Lucy was captivated by the story, but he couldn’t resist adding, “Hopefully without turning into deer.”
Whitney laughed, then caught herself when Anthony made an annoyed grumble. “That’s exactly what my Uncle Tony used to say. Hey, you two should go check it out.” Lucy’s eyes went wide and Whitney rushed to explain. “Not standing on the rock, silly. But go see the falls. The path is right there, and it’s only a five minute walk.” She reached out. “I can carry your boxes back down the hill for you.”
Owen was eager to take her up on the suggestion, but he hesitated when he realized she already had an armful with her son. She laughed and gestured for him to give her the boxes.
“I can handle it. I did taxes for half the town with this sweet boy in my lap this spring, and I’ve been working the vineyard all summer with him in his carrier or in my arms. I’ll be a weight lifter by the time this kid starts walking.”
“Come on,” Owen said, “we couldn’t see the falls during the fireworks show. Let’s go check it out. As friends, of course.”
She studied him, then gave in and joined him in walking toward the rustic sign that read Waterfalls, with a small arrow. He took her hand, and she didn’t pull away. Progress.
They went into the trees, and it felt as if they were suddenly sheltered from everything. No sounds of laughter. No traffic sounds. No wind. Just coolness and quiet...other than the soft gurgling sound of moving water ahead, splashing on rocks and continuing down the hill toward Seneca Lake.
It wasn’t Niagara or anything, but the stream tumbled over large outcroppings from high above, splashing and swishing its way to the shallow, swirling pool at its base.
“That must be the legendary rock.” Lucy pointed at a large boulder a few feet from shore, smoothed by centuries of flowing water. Its surface was just a few inches above the water, and he imagined in the springtime it would be submerged. He opened his mouth to answer, but she raised her hand to stop him. “Do not even think about asking me if I want to go stand on it. There will be no open air declarations of love to goddesses or anyone else.”
They stood and listened to the soothing sounds of moving water, their hands still clasped together. Her fingers were warm and soft. He’d missed this. Finally, he just had to say it.
“My first declaration of love to you was in the open air.”
They’d driven out to their favorite little motel on the Outer Banks. They’d discovered Pelican Place by accident, laughing when they saw the two-story pink-and-green motel and its big, faded roadside sign with a neon pelican. Owen had pulled into the parking lot of the 1950s throwback, and, because it was the off-season, they’d been able to get a room for that weekend. He’d canceled the much nicer room he already had booked at the Hilton down the road. Everything about Pelican Place made Lucy laugh, and her laughter had always been his favorite sound.
At the time, he’d been getting ready to head out for a few months of training out in California. He was determined to soak up every minute of Lucy’s laughter he could get before he left. It was a balm to all the stress he was feeling between the Army wanting him to reup and make it a career, and his parents chafing for him to get out and come home to run Cooper Landscaping and Nurseries, so they could retire to their country club life.
Lucy was his one happy spot. With her, he had no stress. Nothing but smiles and silliness and world-rocking sex. She’d been the one thing offering him hope and clarity in a world of hard decisions to be made. And that first night at Pelican Place, walking the beach hand-in-hand, he’d told her he loved her for the first time.
She made a soft sound at his side. It was somewhere between a laugh, a scoff, and...something warmer. “I was going to say something sarcastic like ‘look how well that turned out’ but...” She looked up at him. “That was a special night.”
That acknowledgment made him feel like she’d opened that door just a little bit farther. He swallowed hard, not wanting to ruin the moment.
“Not all our memories are bad, Luce. We had good times, too. Loving times.” His hand cupped her cheek. And miracles of miracles, she closed her eyes and turned her head to lean into his palm. He was both terrified and thrilled. It was like capturing a frightened bird. He was afraid to make the wrong move. Her shoulders rose and fell with a sigh...sad or content? He couldn’t tell. Her eyes opened and met his gaze.
“They weren’t all bad. That weekend was pretty great.” The corner of her mouth twitched. “I mean, it’s not like you didn’t take me to the classiest places.”
The Pelican Place Motel was clean...mostly. But the rooms hadn’t been updated since approximately 1962. Beige paneling on the walls. Orange curtains. Green carpets. Framed artwork he was pretty sure were paint-by-numbers kits that perhaps someone’s child—or grandmother—had painted. In one of the rooms they’d used, because of course they’d gone back after that first weekend, there was a framed jigsaw puzzle of a ballerina that someone had put together. Nothing but the best at Pelican Place. He chuckled.
“It wasn’t fancy, but we damn sure had some fun at that place. I even proposed there...” He s
topped. He should never have brought up the wedding that wasn’t. She didn’t recoil in rage, but she did move away from his touch. He cursed under his breath. “That was dumb. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I remember that day. It was crazy windy on the beach. It was right before a hurricane brushed the coast, right?”
At least she was speaking of it with some fondness. He’d been about to leave on that last deployment—the one that ended up being extended, but they didn’t know that would happen. He was determined to marry her the minute he got back home and left the Army. Being with Lucy calmed the tension that kept ebbing and flowing inside of him after his previous tour. She was the one thing in his life that felt...right. As if she belonged there in his heart.
“Best decision I ever made.” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat again, blinking rapidly. Focus, soldier. “I didn’t follow it up with the best decisions, but I don’t regret proposing to you for a minute. Tell me you feel the same...” She started to protest, but he clarified. “Not that you want to marry me right this instant, because I know we have some hurts that need to be mended. But tell me that day...that moment...tell me you don’t regret saying yes in that moment. Not knowing what would happen. Tell me you loved me that day.”
Lucy’s mouth fell open. Her lower lip trembled, and she bit it to keep it steady. He waited. He was going to be really good at this waiting business by the end of his month in Rendezvous Falls. A month that was speeding by. Her deep blue eyes never wavered. She held his gaze and finally answered him.
“I loved you that day. I loved you a lot of days.”
Thank Christ for that. He put his hands on her waist and gently moved her closer. She didn’t resist, stepping so close her ruffled cotton blouse brushed against his shirt.
“I want you to love me again.” His voice was raspy in his own ears. “I want to deserve your love again.”
She looked toward the falls, and he had to lower his head to hear her.