Romance Grows in Arcadia Valley (Arcadia Valley Romance Book 0)

by Mary Jane Hathaway

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice clogging with emotion. Charlotte didn’t have time to set down the box before a girl with shoulder length straight black hair appeared at his side.

  “Hey, Silas. You’re back in town?”

  “Hey, Violet. Yep, back for good. Nice to see you.” He tipped his hat and headed down the steps in a hurry, but Charlotte could have sworn Silas’s cheeks went pink.

  The girl watched his back for a few seconds and then held out a small bag. “Just a little thank you for the summer reading program. I teach third grade and I’m so grateful for everything you do. It makes my job so much easier when the kids have been reading over the summer.”

  Charlotte let Violet put the bag on top of the Silas’s box. “You’re a potter, right? I loved your vase at the auction. And you make honey and pesto?”

  She nodded brightly. “I do. Just a hobby. But there isn’t any of that in the bag. Those are fresh egg rolls.”

  Charlotte could smell them now, exuding the most delicious scent just inches from her nose. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “It’s nothing,” Violet said, waving a hand. “I’m glad I got to thank you in person. This town wouldn’t be much without a library and you’re doing an amazing job.”

  Charlotte felt her eyes fill with tears. Demetria and Elena stood to the side, smiling at Violet as she went down the steps. Elena held a little bag and Demetria had a cake carrier.

  “Are you the one―” She could hardly get the words out.

  “No, dear. Not me.” Demetria said. “Let’s go to the kitchen. We put this together.”

  Her mother was peeling a cucumber and waved at the sight of the new arrivals.

  “Mom, this is Demetria. Nico’s mom.” Charlotte paused, praying with all her might that her mother would be polite.

  “I’m Angela.” she said and held out her hand.

  “I smell something good,” Elena said, standing on her tiptoes and peeking into bags.

  “It’s the eggrolls from Tams. Secret recipe, they say.” Demetria sounded a little miffed. “I can’t make them same way. I try.”

  “Elena, let me get you the stool,” Charlotte said, watching her strain to reach the bags.

  “Angela, you have a wonderful daughter,” Demetria said. “We’re so happy she’s here. Such lovely girl. You must be proud.”

  “Yes, she is,” Angela said but her expression was odd. She continued peeling the cucumber. “And I am. But you know, I didn’t think she was making the right decision to come here.”

  “And now?” Demetria asked.

  Charlotte tried not to look like she cared but her heart was pounding.

  “I understand a little better now.” Her voice was soft. “There’s a feeling here. I don’t know what it is.”

  “Community,” Demetria declared, putting the carrot salad into a nice bowl.

  “I was afraid she wouldn’t have any friends,” her mother said.

  “Oh, no, no. Many friends. And she’s good at the job.” Demetria said definitively and opened the gazpacho.

  Charlotte looked from one woman to other. She’d thought her garden would prove something, that it would force her mother to see. But in the end it was the town itself, the people, that had brought about the understanding and support Charlotte had so craved. Her throat felt tight with emotion.

  “You want to see our cake?” Elena asked.

  “Sure,” Charlotte said, struggling to get herself under control.

  “Angel food with strawberries,” Demetria said with a wink. She held up a hand. “I know you like. I’m not trying to make a point.”

  Charlotte laughed, warmth flooding her at the sight of the towering white cake and the glistening, cut berries.

  “I made snickerdoodles,” Elena said.. “And look, I drew you a note like you always do.”

  Charlotte crouched down to see. “Bunnicula jumping rope?”

  “He’s holding two flowers,” she said. “Will you save my post-it?”

  “Of course. I’ll put it in a safe place.”

  “Put it in your favorite book. That’s where my Papa puts all of yours,” Elena said.

  Charlotte put on a neutral expression as she filled a large pot with water for the corn, but inside she was reeling. Nico saved all her notes? In his favorite book?

  “We should go and let you entertain,” Demetria said finally, wiping her hands. “Everything unpacked. I bet with your mom helping, dinner done in thirty minutes.”

  “You should stay,” Charlotte said.

  “Yes, please stay.” Her mother smiled. “And not because you’re such good helpers. Both of you,” she added to Elena. “I want to get to know Charlotte’s friends.”

  “Well, maybe.” Demetria glanced at her watch. “I thought he’d be here by now,” she said almost to herself.

  “Who?” Charlotte felt her heart leap into her throat.

  “You know who,” she said with a sly smile. “I left the sausages on purpose.”

  As if on cue, a knock sounded at the back door. Charlotte froze. So, Nico’s mother had forgotten part of their delicious gift just so Nico would bring it over.

  “You’re forcing him to come over?”

  “No, not forcing.” Demetria looked pained. “Just helping. You need to talk. Alone.”

  Charlotte almost groaned. If he’d wanted to come, Nico would have been there earlier.

  And to add insult to injury, Jarrod appeared in the kitchen looking grumpy.

  “We’re having a party?”

  Charlotte spent the longest second of her life weighing the options. The plaque outside Nico’s door flashed through her mind. As for me and my house. This was her home. These were her friends. While she’d been trying to make everybody happy and not cause trouble, she’d let the man who meant the most to her get the wrong idea about Jarrod.

  But before she could move, her mother reached the back door and swung it open.

  “Papa, there you are,” Elena said. “Come see all the green beans. More than our garden.”

  Nico stood on the porch, the setting sun behind him. His face was tight but he managed a smile. He met Charlotte’s gaze and looked away. “You forgot the grilled sausages,” he said to his mother, holding out a foil wrapped plate.

  “No, not forget. I think you bringing them is better. Elena, take the plate. Papa will come inside in a second.” Demetria fairly pushed Charlotte through the kitchen door and closed it firmly behind them.

  Charlotte faced this handsome Greek who had opened her heart in a way she never could have predicted, who had taught her about living a life full of joy, who embodied everything she thought a father and a Christian should be. For one moment, she thought she wasn’t going to be able to say what she needed to say, but in a moment of grace, her tongue loosened.

  “I love you,” she blurted.

  Chapter 16

  “Like music and art, love of nature is a common language that can transcend political or social boundaries.”

  ― Jimmy Carter

  Nico looked from Charlotte’s shining blue eyes to the door his mother had just slammed. “For the sausages?”

  She laughed and it sounded like she was trying not to cry. “I know you don’t think it’s a good idea, with Elena being so young. I respect that. I just needed to tell you.”

  “A good idea…” He was repeating her but his mind was stumbling over her words. Maybe, just maybe, this was real.

  She brushed back her long hair in a swift movement, as if irritated with herself. “I’ve realized recently, that I don’t speak up when I should. And I understand this is probably the worst timing in the universe because my mother is here and she brought along my ex-boyfriend and they’re in my house waiting for me to come back, but I need to tell you how I feel.”

  “You feel?” He couldn’t help it. Nico wanted to say something intelligent but he couldn’t hardly feel his hands. This beautiful woman might possibly be baring her heart to him.

  �
��From the moment we met, I’ve felt a connection to you I’ve never felt with anybody else. I fought it for a long time, but I’m tired of pretending.” Her cheeks were red but she kept going. “I love everything about you, Nico. I love the way you read children’s literature without apology. I love how hopeful you are, even though you lost the beloved mother of your child. I love how humble you are, how you treat everyone with respect and care. Everywhere I go, someone mentions how you’ve helped them, but you never talk about it.”

  Nico swallowed hard. He should say something.

  She went on. “I always wondered how someone knows when they’re in love. Is it hard to sleep? Hard to eat?” She laughed a little at the thought. “Do you know when I knew?”

  He shook his head.

  “When sitting with you on your porch, not saying anything, was better than anything else in my life. Just being near you. I need it, like oxygen or food.” Her eyes were filling with tears. “And no obligation to say anything, really. I hope this doesn’t get in the way of our friendship and I hope you’ll be okay with Elena still coming over. I love her, I do.”

  Nico set down the plate of sausages on the patio table. “You hope it doesn’t change anything?” he said slowly.

  “No, well, if I had a choice…” Her voice faded away.

  Nico walked forward and cupped her face in his hands, her skin soft and warm under his fingers.

  “This changes everything,” he said. “It doesn’t change the way I feel―” he watched worry cross her face “because I already knew I was in love with you long before tonight. But since you’re the brave one, I can go ahead and say it out loud.” He couldn’t help glancing at her mouth, the mouth he had longed to kiss for months but he managed to keep talking. “You’ve got such a strong faith and a soft heart, Charlotte, but you’re tough as nails when you need to be. I need that in my life. In Elena’s life.”

  He brushed back a lock of her golden hair and went on, “And what I love about you? I can’t give you a list.”

  She nodded but he couldn’t leave it at that.

  “Just everything,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Everything,” he said, kissing her eyes. “Everything,” he whispered, pressing the softest kiss to her lips.

  * * *

  Charlotte couldn’t believe that she was being kissed, over and over, by the man she’d thought was lost to her forever. It was impossible. It was perfect. And as always, it was exactly how God worked.

  She looked up at Nico, her eyes shining with happiness. “We should get married,” she said.

  Nico threw his head back and laughed. “You don’t want to wait for a fancy proposal, my brave one?”

  She grinned. “Fancy? I don’t think that’s really our style. We’re more about gardens, back porches and bunnies. And you didn’t answer.”

  His eyes glimmered in the fading light. “Yes. Of course, yes.”

  He kissed her again, and even though she hated to put any space between them, after a few minutes she leaned away, sighing. “Not that I want to go inside, but I have these guests who are probably wondering where I am.”

  “I take it the visit isn’t going so well.”

  Charlotte smiled. “Actually, it is. I have you to thank for it.”

  “How is that?”

  “When you brought all these people to my door tonight, you gave me blessings when you could have sent curses. You love completely, totally, and without reserve. And that is truly brave.” Her voice was soft. “It made my mom realize that Arcadia Valley is the place for me. I’m meant to be here.”

  “You know, I never could have imagined what God had in store for us when you showed up with Bunnicula.”

  “His love is steadfast,” she said. “Just like yours.”

  He leaned his forehead against hers for a moment, then stepped back, grabbing her hand. “So, let’s go inside and tell them the good news.”

  Her face went blank and then she started to laugh. “Oh, you’re trying to outdo my bravery?”

  Nico led her toward the door, her fingers gently cradled in his large hand. “I may want to see Jarrod’s face, just a little.” He shot her a look. “Hey, I’m human.”

  “I’ll give you a break this once.” She opened the door with a huge smile, feeling happy tears spring to her eyes. “Now let’s go share the good news.”

  What’s next in this series from Mary Jane Hathaway?

  Summer’s Glory

  Releasing February, 2017

  After his mother passes away, master carpenter Silas Black returns to Arcadia Valley to help his sister run their small farm. He was the town’s bad boy as a teen and it wasn’t just an image. But although his juvenile delinquent years are behind him, there’s one woman who can’t accept that he’s really changed. As Silas finds himself falling for Violet Tam, is there any hope that she can forgive him and open her heart to the man he is now?

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for reading the first installment in my Arcadia Valley ‘Seasons of Faith’ series. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Nico had to overcome his fear of losing someone else close to him and learn to embrace the future God had planned for his life. Charlotte was so focused on proving herself to her mother that she forgot to follow her own heart. These two had a lot of growing up to do, but in Arcadia Valley, there are always friends to help you take those steps!

  I hope you enjoyed spending time in Charlotte’s garden and hearing about Nico’s artisan butcher shop. My family has worked on growing more and more of our own food with every passing year, and I wish we had a local deli like Nico’s. Eating locally and buying from farmers in our area is important to us, and with a family of eight, we want to make sure our food comes from sustainable sources.

  I love to cook (just like Charlotte!) and I figure that every little bit helps. Whether we’re picking blueberries at a local farm and storing them for winter, or keeping a few chickens in a coop, every small act helps keep our food sources green and plentiful. We live in the city limits so we’ve had to be creative about it, but where there’s a will, there’s a way. We’re blessed to live in fertile, rich farmland so summer and spring are filled with bounty. I hope this story inspired you to grow a few plants of your own, if you don’t already have a garden. The taste of a sun-ripened tomato will be worth every minute of care you provide the plan, I promise!

  If you enjoyed this story, be sure to leave a review on the retailer of your choice. I love visiting with readers on my Facebook author page of Mary Jane Hathaway, or on my blog at The Things That Last!

  Wishing you all every good thing!

  Mary Jane

  Demi’s Loukoumades

  This is the easiest recipe I’ve found for these fried Greek pastry puffs. So delicious!!

  Ingredients

  2 packages active dry yeast

  1 1/4 cup warm water , divided into 1 and 1/2

  1/2 cup warm milk

  1/4 cup white sugar

  ¾ teaspoon salt

  1/3 cup butter, softened

  3 eggs

  4 1/4 cups all-purpose flour

  1/2 cup honey

  4 cups vegetable oil for frying

  2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

  Directions

  1. Sprinkle the yeast over the one cup of warm water in a small bowl until it’s nice and happy (having a foamy yeast party!) Then mix the warm milk, sugar, and salt together. Add the yeast mixture into the milk mixture and stir gently.

  2. Beat in the butter, eggs, and flour until the mixture forms a smooth, glossy dough. This might take some time so enlist a teen or two. Threaten them with no doughnuts if they don’t help out! Cover the bowl, and let rise until doubled. That takes about 30 minutes. Punch it down, stir a few times, then let it rise again.

  3. Mix honey and 1/2 cup of water in a saucepan, and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Remove from heat and let cool.

  4. Heat oil in a deep-fryer or large saucepan to 350 degrees F (
175 degrees C). Oil should be about 2 inches deep. Please be careful! A fry daddy or small frying contraption is a great thing to own!

  5. The hardest part about Loukoumades is probably making them into balls. The dough is soft and sticky, so using a spoon to scoop it out works pretty well. Leave the spoon in cold water between rolling the dough in your hand so it doesn’t stick to the spoon so much. Drop the dough balls into the hot oil in batches, wetting the spoon each time you make a dough ball. Fry them in the hot oil for 3-4 minutes, or until golden brown. Let them drain on a paper towel.

  6. My favorite part? Placing them on a baking sheet, drizzling them with honey, and sprinkling with cinnamon. Bon Appetit! Or as Mrs. Delis would say, “Καλή όρεξη! (Kalí óreksi!)”

  Turns Again Home

  by Alfred Lord Tennyson

  Sunset and evening star,

  And one clear call for me!

  And may there be no moaning of the bar,

  When I put out to sea,

  But such a tide as moving seems asleep,

  Too full for sound and foam,

  When that which drew from out the boundless deep

  Turns again home.

  Twilight and evening bell,

  And after that the dark!

  And may there be no sadness of farewell,

  When I embark;

  For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place

  The flood may bear me far,

  I hope to see my Pilot face to face