by Olivia Miles
Before she could continue down this path of self-destruction, which would soon end with a pajama party, a spoon, a half gallon of vanilla ice cream, and a jar of peanut butter, Jane opened the door and hurried to the set of heavy double iron doors. It was Saturday night, and she’d already spent enough time worrying over things that were out of her control.
Inside, the restaurant was warm and lively—a sharp contrast to Main Street at this hour. An inviting fire crackled in the hearth, and groups of women and a few couples sipped wine on the sofas and club chairs Anna had arranged in the lobby. Jane craned her neck deeper into the dining room looking for her sisters and friends, breathing in the smells of warm fresh bread and garlic. Already the buzz was having an effect on her mood, and she chastised herself for sitting in the car feeling sorry for herself when she could have been inside, enjoying the fun and forgetting about her troubles.
Ivy Birch, Grace’s best friend, spotted her first and waved her over to where Grace, Ivy, and Kara Hastings, Luke’s middle sister, were already through the better part of a bottle of wine. Grace happily poured the rest in a glass for Jane as she dropped into an empty chair and began unwrapping her scarf.
“Thanks,” she said, taking a sip. “Is Anna able to join us?” She glanced toward the kitchen, hoping their middle sister would be able to get a break for a night. She’d thought Anna had worked hard running Fireside back when she was all on her own, but the success of her café was nothing compared to the popularity of the new establishment. They had a wait list two weeks out, but that didn’t stop people from lining up for a spot at the bar night after night, hoping for a chance to try the chef’s special.
“I’m right here,” Anna said, pulling out the chair beside her. Her cheeks were flushed, her blue eyes bright, and her smile positively radiant. Hard work had always suited Anna, but Jane suspected being back together with Mark had more than a little something to do with her sister’s sudden glow.
“Busy night,” Jane commented.
Anna shook her blond hair from its ponytail and took a long sip of water. “Which is why unfortunately I can’t stay for long. We have another round of reservations in an hour. I’m sorry, Grace,” she said, as she reached for the bread basket.
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll have plenty of time to catch up more at the cake tasting next week.”
Anna grinned and sat a little straighter. “I hope you’ll like what I came up with.”
“And I hope you like the bridesmaid dresses.” Grace laughed, but her brow furrowed as she glanced around the table. They’d all seen the first four dresses, each later frantically calling the others to question the off-the-shoulder number with the enormous bow on the left hip, or, the following week, the empire waist cocktail frock cut in such an unfortunate way that they’d all appeared to be at least five months pregnant.
From under the table Jane felt Anna take her hand and squeeze it tight as Grace flipped through a magazine and stopped at her page marker. She turned the spread to them, and looked up.
Silence stretched as the four women stared at the dress they would most likely be wearing down the aisle, for most of Briar Creek to see.
“Well?”
Jane’s shoulders relaxed as she studied the simple, strapless crimson taffeta gown with the A-line skirt to the ankle.
“It will look stunning with the bouquet we decided on,” Ivy said.
“Oh… about that.” Grace bit down on a nail as Ivy’s mouth gaped.
“Don’t tell me you’re changing your mind again.”
“No,” Grace said hesitantly. “I just… thought maybe we could add some purple in there, too. I still go back and forth on whether I should do a plum-colored dress for Sophie.”
“So long as it’s not blue, and velvet, I don’t care what color the flower girl dress is,” Jane remarked. She reached for her wineglass and took a long sip. It was only once she’d set it down that she realized all eyes had shifted to her.
Darn it. She hadn’t wanted to make this night about her. There would be plenty of time to fill the women in about Adam’s latest blow, but not now. Tonight was supposed to be about Grace, about her wedding. About escaping reality and focusing on the fantasy. Wasn’t that what a wedding was? It was the fairy-tale moment. It was hardly the same as a happily ever after.
“Long story,” she said, forcing a laugh. Grace’s smile turned sad, and Jane yanked open the menu with a newfound sense of purpose. She decided on one of Mark’s seasonal specials—butternut squash gnocchi in a sage butter sauce—which she knew was paired with Anna’s apple crisp cheesecake for dessert. Normally, and especially now that she was back in the dance studio, she watched her figure, but tonight she was too exhausted to bother, and something about being here, in a bustling restaurant with some of her favorite people in Briar Creek, helped put things in perspective again. Had thin thighs and a tight waist kept her husband from wandering astray? Nope!
“So, how was class today?” Anna sipped her wine, looking at her expectantly.
“Oh… I didn’t have any classes today.” Jane was happy for the darkness of the room. If her sister saw the heat in her cheeks, she’d be onto her in a second. As it was, Jane struggled to make eye contact. She reached for another slice of bread.
As expected, Anna frowned. “But it’s Saturday. You always have classes on Saturday.”
“Rosemary isn’t offering the same classes this session,” Jane replied in what she hoped was a breezy tone. “By the way, your scones were a big hit today.”
Anna did a poor job of masking how pleased this made her. Though she now exclusively ran Rosemary and Thyme and provided pastries for the bookstore, she remained a financially invested partner in the family’s business.
“Henry commented on them, actually,” Jane said. He’d been back again that morning, causing her to almost spill a pot of coffee when he slipped her a smile from across the room.
“Henry Birch? Adam’s—” Anna stopped herself, then leaned across the table. “Ivy, you didn’t tell us your brother was in town.”
Ivy looked up from her conversation with Kara and Grace, a strange expression darkening her features. “Oh. We’ve all been so busy with Grace’s wedding. I guess I forgot.”
“How long is he in town?” Anna pressed.
Yes, Ivy, how long? Jane held her breath, wondering why she suddenly felt so nervous. What did she care how long Henry stuck around? Because he was hot, she admitted. And because somehow she hadn’t noticed how hot before.
“I don’t know, really.” Ivy shrugged, and Jane felt her heart skip a beat. That was hardly the same as tomorrow or next week. “He’s rarely in one place for long,” Ivy finished.
Of course. He was a travel writer. And he hadn’t made it back to Briar Creek in years, not even for his mother’s burial this past summer. There hadn’t been a service, and Ivy claimed she was fine handling things on her own, given everything, but Jane still wondered how Henry could have stayed away.
Well, it was none of her business. He was back now, maybe because he had been kept away over the summer. And soon, he’d be gone again. There was no sense in wishing he would stick around for longer, and it didn’t matter if he did. He was Adam’s friend at the end of the day, and like so many things, their divorce had split more than just the two of them.
A waiter appeared with another bottle of wine and a cheer went up at the table. Soon, Jane was caught up in the chatter again, and she didn’t even give Henry another thought until they’d stood to leave and she heard the rich, booming laugh that always brought a smile to her lips. She scanned the room looking for him, anticipating going up to him, maybe saying hello, perhaps having a drink… He was sitting on a bar stool, his back slightly hunched, his broad, strong shoulders defined by the thin material of his green sweater. He turned slightly, his gaze drifting in her direction, and she was just lifting her hand to wave in case he caught her eye when her smile froze.
He wasn’t alone. And the person he was laug
hing with was her ex-husband.
The bartender cleared the half-empty glasses from the end of the gleaming mahogany bar and lifted his chin at Henry. “What will it be?”
“Just a club soda,” he replied evenly.
“Still drinking those, I see,” Adam said, taking a long sip of his beer.
Henry took his drink and plucked the cocktail straw from the glass. “Yep. Some things don’t change.”
“But some things do,” Adam countered. He looked at Henry squarely. “I don’t know if you heard that Jane and I split up.”
“Ivy mentioned it.” He decided to leave out the part about running into Jane, or learning about the remarriage. If Adam wanted to tell him, he would.
“Marriage is hard,” Adam said.
“You don’t need to tell me that,” Henry remarked, taking a sip of his soda. He shook his head, thinking of the brief time in his life he’d spent with Caroline: their whirlwind courtship, their wedding day—everything felt possible then.
“I can’t really believe I’m about to do it again,” Adam said, meeting Henry’s gaze from the corner of his eye. His jaw pulsed. “Kristy’s pregnant. She wanted to get married. Insisted, actually.” He took another sip of his beer.
“Ah.” So there it was. He wondered if Jane knew this part—if it would matter to her if she did. She’d seemed a little down during their conversation the other day, and Henry had left the bookstore a few hours later with half a mind to go over to Adam’s house, grab him by the collar, and give him a piece of his mind, the way he’d wanted to so many times before.
He pushed aside the guilt he felt for reaching out to Adam. Adam’s relationship with Jane aside, there was a bond between them that couldn’t be overlooked.
Their meals arrived, and Henry eagerly bit into his burger. “It’s hard to picture you as a father of two,” he mused aloud. The Adam he knew liked to have a good time. Henry had told himself that Adam was getting it out of his system before the wedding day—after all, who couldn’t love Jane Madison with her bright eyes and that sweet smile?—but he’d clearly overestimated his friend’s intentions.
“I love being a father,” Adam said, suddenly smiling. “It’s probably the reason I stuck things out with Jane as long as I did.” He studied the beer in his glass, then tipped it back.
“You married young.” Henry could give him that much. Hell, he could make the same poor excuse for himself. He’d met and married Caroline within the span of ten months. Proposed to her after only three. Looking back, he wondered if he would have latched on to anyone who’d passed through his life at the time. He was looking for a life raft. Looking for an escape. For a sense of simplicity and security he’d never known.
He was looking for what his best friend had found.
And then thrown away.
He took another sip of his soda, thinking of the way Jane looked at the bookstore this morning. Her ash brown hair had been pulled up in a ponytail, revealing that long, graceful dancer’s neck. She’d come over to his table, given his mug a refill, and asked politely about his work, but she was still guarded. Her eyes were hesitant, her smile a little less warm than the one she gave the other patrons. She didn’t linger. And damn it if he hadn’t wished she had.
Sitting here with the man who’d cheated on her, he supposed he couldn’t blame her.
“Well, live and learn. I’m determined to do it right this time,” Adam said. “I owe my kids that much.”
A part of Henry didn’t want to hear this. He wanted to give Adam a good punch in the face instead for not giving Jane the fair chance he was giving Kristy. But the other part of him understood, or was trying to at least.
Good people could do bad things, he told himself. It was a mantra he’d repeated many times over the years. Then it was about his mother. Lately, it was about himself.
“So when’s the wedding?” Henry asked. It was just meant to be idle conversation, but the look in Adam’s face told him he’d hit a nerve.
“Four weeks from now. If you’re in town, I’d love you to be there. Kristy didn’t want to wait or do it over the holidays and… there’s a chance I might be taking a job out of state.”
“Anywhere interesting?”
“Denver,” Adam replied.
“Good city. Good skiing, too, if you can handle the powder instead of the ice.” Henry grinned.
Adam hesitated, seeming to want to tell Henry something, but finished the last of his beer instead. The white froth coated the glass, pooling at the bottom when he slid it across the smooth bar. “Do me a favor and keep it to yourself, just until everything’s settled. There are still… a few details to work out.”
“Not a problem. You know me. I hate gossip.” If he closed his eyes, he could almost hear the voices over the din of the restaurant, the gossip that trailed in his mother’s wake. There was no escaping it in Briar Creek.
He turned away, back to his food. Soon enough, this would be over. He’d be gone. And all these people would fade away again. The way he needed them to.
CHAPTER
5
Petals on Main was having an unusually busy start to the fall season, Ivy noted with a pleased smile as the bell on the door chimed for the sixth time in only half an hour. She finished jotting down a phone order—three dozen pink roses for a third wedding anniversary, how sweet was that?—and set the handset down with a sigh. She had promised Henry she would take it easy, but that wasn’t exactly possible when the store was bustling with customers, each needing her undivided attention. She’d planned on eating one of the granola bars she kept on hand, but every time she broke away, another customer pushed through the door, smiling in expectation, waiting for assistance.
Her hands began to shake as she typed in the order. She couldn’t put it off much longer.
“Hey there, Ivy.” Mark Hastings grinned at her over the antique farm table she used as a counter. She’d had the antique shop down the road refit it with higher legs, so she could use it as both a workspace and a checkout area without compromising the design of her space. So much thought, time, and energy had gone into this little shop. It was her own private jewel box, bursting with a rainbow of colors, no matter how gloomy the weather outside. It was her happy place. Her sanctuary. Why couldn’t Henry see that?
If it were up to her brother, she’d close up shop tomorrow and book the next flight to San Francisco. But then, if it were up to him, she never would have opened it in the first place…
“Mark! Hello!” She wiped at the beads of sweat that had formed at her hairline and shed her pale blue wool cardigan, leaving it to drape on the chair she hadn’t managed to sit in since the store opened. “Picking up for the restaurant already? I don’t have the order filled yet, but if you give me an hour, I can drop it off.” Normally she hand-delivered the flowers to Rosemary and Thyme, and, if she had a few minutes to spare, she stuck around to chat with Anna while she went around to each table and swapped out the old stems for new and cleaned up the bigger arrangements she maintained in the bar and lobby.
“Nah, I thought I’d surprise Anna with a bouquet, actually.” Mark looked uncomfortable as he shoved his hands in his pockets and darted his gaze around the room, and Ivy tried to hide her smile. Once the most eligible bachelor in town, Mark was still a little out of his element when it came to a committed relationship.
“Well, aren’t you sweet!” Ivy grinned, and was rewarded by Mark’s visible expression of relief.
“I didn’t know if girls really liked that type of thing,” he admitted, grinning bashfully.
Ivy arched a brow, internally rolling her eyes to the ceiling. Men. “I earn my living selling flowers, so I can assure you that yes, women like flowers. A lot. In fact, an entire holiday is built around them. Well, and chocolate of course.”
“Good.” Mark’s smile widened. “So, what do you recommend?”
“Oh…” A wave of nausea moved through her and her heart began to race now. She gripped the counter a little tighter,
hoping her voice didn’t sound as desperate as she felt. She should have taken the medicine as soon as she picked it up. Instead, she’d put it off, gotten busy… focused on all the work she had to do just to keep this place afloat. “What’s Anna’s favorite color?”
It was blue, she knew, but she always tried to let the customers be their own guide. She helped where she could, with suggestions instead of persuasion. Flowers were meant to express the giver nearly as much as the recipient, after all.
“Probably… red. Maybe pink.” Mark frowned, looking suddenly lost.
Ivy came around the counter. The granola bar would just have to wait. “Why don’t I show you a few things and see if anything stands out?”
The wariness in Mark’s deep-set brown eyes seemed to fade. “Thanks, Ivy.”
“My pleasure.” She walked him around the shop, pointing out various roses and gerbera daisies, the blood rushing in her head the entire time. Don’t faint. You can’t faint. Just hold on for five more minutes. Five minutes.
Her diabetes was something she’d kept to herself over the years—only Henry, their mother, and a handful of others in town knew about it. She knew it was nothing to be ashamed of, that there was really no secret to keep, but she’d learned early in life that the less people knew about you, the easier it was to fit in. The room began to tilt. Oh, God.
“Ivy? Are you feeling okay?” Mark’s expression turned to one of concern. “You look a little flushed.”
“Oh, do I?” Her cheeks were on fire and she was sweating through her cotton blouse. Her vision was going in and out, dimming in the periphery. “It’s a little warm in here, isn’t it? I’ve been on my feet for a while.”
Mark took her by the elbow and led her to a bench near the front door. “Let me get you some water.”
“Juice,” she said quickly. “There’s, um, some juice in the fridge in the back room.” She always kept some on hand for when her blood sugar dipped, and she didn’t need to do a reading now to know it had.