by Andrea Thome
Wyatt slowed the truck a few minutes later, turning right onto West Millers Cove Road. As the truck rolled up and over a gentle slope in the road, Bono was singing about still not finding what he was looking for, and the signature white split-rail fence that flanked the meadows came into view.
“There it is. One of the most beautiful places on earth. I’m jealous that you’re getting to experience it for the first time, although returning here really never gets old.”
Wyatt flashed her a grin and then rolled the windows down, as if to inch closer to this place that was clearly special to him.
“I’ll drop you off at reception and they’ll check you in and run you to your room. Do you know where you’re staying?”
India smiled. “I lucked out and got one of the new cottages that overlook the garden. It sounds pretty incredible.” India locked eyes with him briefly.
“And like a photographer’s dream spot,” she added.
“For sure. You won’t be disappointed.”
Wyatt maneuvered the truck under the portico outside reception. He was out of his seat and around to her door before she knew what was happening. He helped her climb out of the cab as the bellman approached.
“Well, look who’s back. Welcome home, Wyatt. How was your trip?”
The tall russet-haired man who’d joined them to help with India’s bags had a huge smile on his handsome face. He nodded his head to India.
“Welcome to Blackberry Farm, ma’am.”
He turned his attention back to Wyatt, offering his hand in greeting.
Wyatt seemed to be well known and admired, as other members of the team joined them to say hello. India figured he must be a frequent visitor, which was odd, considering he was local.
“Hey, Garrett, good to see you, buddy. Been way too long. Let’s catch up over a beer this week.”
Wyatt asked Garrett to help with the luggage, then returned his attention to India. Their eyes met again, and he watched the pink of her cheeks reward him one final time. The effect rendered him speechless.
“Well, thanks again,” she said, breaking the silence. “It was really nice of you to give me a lift. I guess you can scratch that good deed off your list for the day,” she said, happy to be rewarded once more with his incredible smile. “It was nice to meet you, Wyatt. And thanks to Olive too. She’s a beauty.”
Wyatt took her hand in his, and he couldn’t help but notice the rise of panic that he felt at the thought of not seeing her again.
“My pleasure, really. Enjoy your time here. I hope it brings you the peace you’re looking for.”
He reluctantly let go of her hand, forcing himself to ignore the current between them.
“It’s a good place to contemplate your plan B,” he added with an almost imperceptible wink. He jumped back into his truck and drove away, leaving India on the stone drive smiling to herself.
CHAPTER
FOUR
India completed the check-in process, stopping by the concierge desk to get an updated list of activities. Looking over her itinerary for the workshop, she noticed there was a welcome dinner out at the Yallerhammer Pavilion scheduled for that evening. She’d wait and see if she felt up to it; it might be easier to throw on her pajamas and hunker down in front of the fireplace. Besides, she’d already done a thorough job of embarrassing herself at the airport. Maybe she wasn’t ready to participate in a group activity quite yet.
She joined Garrett in one of the farm’s signature SUVs, which was already loaded with her luggage. The gravel crunched under the tires as they drove back out through the front gate and down the fenced lane toward her cottage. Garrett filled her in on some details about the farm. He pointed out the dairy, where they made their own cheeses, which was next to the brewery. Her cottage was close to the barn, where formal dinners were held in the evenings. India marveled at the size of the farm.
“This place is bigger than I thought. How many acres is it?”
Garrett pulled up to a set of white gates that opened automatically when he pushed a remote.
“Blackberry itself covers about forty-two hundred acres, but there’s a sister property down the road that has another five thousand. It’s been owned by the same family for over forty years now.”
He stole a shy glance at her, a smile blooming from underneath his short goatee.
“Are you a friend of Wyatt’s?” he asked.
India looked puzzled at first, but she answered smoothly. “No, we met at the airport—he heard I was headed here and offered me a lift. You know him well?”
She knew he must by the expression on his face. She figured she might as well go fishing for a little more information, and Garrett was more than happy to provide.
“Oh, everyone loves Wyatt. He makes you feel like you’ve known him forever, even those of us who are newer to the area, like myself.” He grinned.
“I recently relocated from Washington State. My family owned a farm there, so I was hoping to get a job working in gardens, but when the opportunity to work here became available, I jumped at the chance. Carrying bags is honest work, but digging in the dirt is my real passion.”
He guided the car into a gravel drive, which led to the most charming collection of structures India had ever seen. “Here we are: the Garden Cottages. That’s the main house there.” He gestured to a large wooden home filled with picture windows up on the top of a hill.
“That little stone cottage next to it is called Root Cellar. And this one here is yours; we call it Woodshed.”
She admired the red-sided building; noticing the sloping tin roof, she hoped she’d get to hear rain patter against it at least once. Her cottage was down below the other two, closest to the gardens, offering generous views from a screened-in porch.
“You must really be lucky,” Garrett continued. “The wait list for these places is a mile long, and they used to only rent them out together for groups.”
He offered his hand, helping her out of the car.
“I’ll take you in and show you around before I bring in your luggage, just to make sure it suits your needs.” He smiled at her.
“Although I can’t imagine you won’t fall in love with it. Everyone does.”
Garrett used the key to unlock the farmhouse door and then swung it open, while India stood behind him on the path, taking in the breathtaking landscape before her. There was nothing but gardens as far as the eye could see. It was obvious that some of the rows were still being prepared for plantings, while other winter and early-spring foods had already begun to poke up from the ground, dotting the fields with pops of green.
Further evidence of the busy season were the sacks of soil stacked around the gardens and the bustle of activity outside of a planting shed, which was about five hundred feet from her front porch. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she could make out an older gentleman in overalls talking to another man with his broad back to her. They were gesturing animatedly over a rudimentary table filled with seedlings.
“OK, right this way.”
Garrett turned and followed her gaze, breaking into a huge grin.
“That’s Finn Janssen. He’s our master gardener. He might look like a simple country man, but don’t be fooled. That fellow there knows more about heirloom farming and sustainable growing than most folks you’ll meet. Everything that comes out of these gardens ends up in the kitchens at Blackberry. You’ve never tasted food so delicious in your life.”
India stood watching them. The men were clearly engrossed in what they were discussing.
“I’ve read about Mr. Janssen,” she said. “He sounds like he has a real passion for what he does. I’m grateful that there are still farmers around who want to protect the integrity of our food.”
Garrett raised his eyebrows, impressed. “My grandparents never farmed any other way. I’d give anything to work with him someday. He’s a real pioneer in the industry. Make sure you get over to meet him sometime this week if you can.”
India pointed
to the small red building where the farmer worked.
“I definitely want to take a peek at his shed, and maybe even photograph him working, since they’re obviously getting ready to put the rest of the crops in.”
Garrett nodded in agreement. “Yep. Finn is a good and kind man, and smarter than most. I’m sure he would welcome the chance to share his love of food from the source.”
Garrett raised his hand to wave at Finn, who had turned around and was looking their way, as if sensing he was being discussed. Finn nodded back and smiled in their direction, raising his hand in greeting. At that moment, India realized who the farmer had been talking to.
Wyatt pivoted toward them, offering a smile and a sheepish wave, before turning his attention back to Finn. Her stomach clenched at the unexpected sight of him. He was probably just saying hello to friends while he was in the area. She shouldn’t be that surprised to see him. But she wasn’t disappointed either.
Garrett subtly gestured to get her attention. “C’mon, let’s get you settled in.”
With that, he motioned for her to cross the threshold into the cottage.
If the landscape outside had been sweeping and widespread, the inside of this charming space was just the opposite. She felt as if she were being hugged by her surroundings. It was the perfect mix of reclaimed wood and beefy old stones, which surrounded a massive fireplace on the far wall. There was an overstuffed sofa in front of the hearth, and a table filled with Town & Country and Field & Stream magazines. The lingering aroma of a recent fire prickled her nose in the best possible way. It smelled like the woods. It smelled like Wyatt.
She started at the thought. What was it about that man that had infected her thoughts? She wasn’t looking for romance while she was here, despite Julia’s teasing. She’d learned her lesson in that department.
She turned back toward Garrett, who was waiting expectantly for her approval.
“It’s pretty great, huh?” he said. “It’s totally different than the other two Garden Cottages, but they’re all favorites of our guests. You have another view of Root Cellar through there.”
He gestured toward an antique glass window on the west wall.
She moved toward the sill and peered out, spotting the small building again, now a hundred or so feet away, up on a cliff. It couldn’t look more different from her cottage with its stone exterior and charming slate roof. Garrett was right. She was in love.
“It’s perfect. Thanks, Garrett. They’re lucky to have you here; you’re a great ambassador for the farm.”
He thanked her with a quiet smile and then moved toward the door. India poked around her temporary home while he went out to fetch her bags from the car. Once her things were inside and she’d said good-bye, she kicked her shoes off, climbed up onto the most exquisitely furnished king-size bed, and promptly fell fast asleep.
“Don’t look. I’m serious, Finn. Don’t!” Wyatt felt like a teenager, but he didn’t want her to think he was a stalker. Finn completely ignored the plea and took great pleasure in slowly turning his gaze toward Woodshed. He lifted his hand and smiled at the twosome standing on the porch.
“I see what’s got you all bunched up. She’s a fine-looking lass,” he said as he turned his attention back to Wyatt. “Why don’t you ask her to supper in the barn?”
Wyatt glanced over his shoulder and saw the recognition cross her face when she realized it was him. She was even more lovely standing with her hand over her eyes, bathed in the late-afternoon sunlight. He felt an unfamiliar tightening in his chest, which made him uncomfortable. He offered her a meek smile and halfheartedly waved back.
“Great. Now she thinks I’m some psycho,” he said through clenched teeth as Finn laughed at him.
Wyatt blew out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“And I’m not asking her to dinner. It was a simple ride from the airport. I don’t even know why I told you about it.”
Finn turned around and threw his hands up, tired of hearing Wyatt’s excuses.
“Finn, don’t start. You’re starting to sound like Violet.”
Wyatt exhaled and busied his hands rearranging the contents of the table.
Finn had known Wyatt since he was a child. He knew when to push and when not to. Wyatt had experienced his share of sadness, and Finn would never want to see the boy hurt that way again. But there was living to do, and Finn had sensed something different in Wyatt’s eyes when he’d relayed the story of this morning to him. There was a spark he hadn’t seen there since, well . . . since Claire. He shuddered to think about how losing her had left Wyatt a shell of a person for so long. It was time for him to heal.
Finn followed his instinct to push back this time.
“Don’t get ornery with me, son. I know you better than you know yourself. You’re intrigued. All I’m saying is, don’t close yourself off to the possibility of something. You might just wait too long, and the opportunities will dry up, along with your good looks.”
Finn rolled his eyes when Wyatt cracked a grin.
When Finn spoke next, his voice was choked with emotion. “You deserve to be happy, Wyatt. And that damned career of yours sure won’t keep you warm at night.”
They locked eyes, and Finn raised his brow in defiance.
Wyatt couldn’t help but chuckle. He knew Finn meant well. Hell, if anyone understood him, it was the old farmer. Finn had lived alone for a long time, having lost his wife in their first year of marriage during childbirth. He’d never remarried, but he’d always seemed fulfilled by his role at the farm. Wyatt wondered now if that wasn’t the case after all.
“I appreciate that you’re worried about me, but I can take care of myself. Just like you have. Anyway, I want to relax this time while I’m home. Take in the change of the seasons and shoot some landscape stuff.” Finn nodded in agreement as Wyatt continued. “Speaking of, do you know where they put Violet and Rex up for the week? I’m assuming they brought Sadie with them?”
Finn snickered at the mention of the little girl. “Oh yeah, little miss is here with them, and boy is she something. Last time she was in the gardens, she had me out here pushing her around in the wheelbarrow until I thought I was gonna drop. They’re staying in the farmhouse this time, and I think I just saw them pull up a little while ago from their afternoon of fishing, so you should be in luck if you wanna say hey.”
The men grabbed each other in a brief embrace, promising to see each other later. Finn disappeared into his shed while Wyatt headed back to his truck and pointed her in the direction of the farmhouse.
It was good to be home again.
He had originally planned to stay away another month, but as the years went by, he’d found himself less and less interested in prolonged absences from this place. Sure, the travel scratched an itch, but his true satisfaction these days was in returning home to share his adventures with family and friends.
Showing his work to Violet had always made him proud, especially since she’d been the catalyst for him getting the job in the first place. One of her friends from photography school in Missoula was a photo editor at National Geographic, so she’d made a phone call on Wyatt’s behalf that had changed— and arguably saved—his life.
He’d been lost, heartbroken, and not sure how to be alone after he’d been a part of something so all-encompassing. Violet knew what Claire had meant to him, but she also knew that his love of photography could be a buoy for Wyatt when he so desperately needed one. She didn’t hesitate, knowing that when National Geographic saw Wyatt’s work, they would hire him on the spot. She wasn’t wrong on either account.
Now, all these years later, Wyatt knew that Violet and Rex were more than friends to him. They were part of his family.
His chosen family.
The thought made him smile as he threw the truck into park outside the farmhouse. He could hardly wait to get inside.
CHAPTER
FIVE
The chirping of her cell phone roused India f
rom her nap, and she flopped her hand around on the bed, searching for the damned thing. The bright afternoon light had been replaced by the angled rays of the setting sun, bathing her room in a soft hazy light. As she lifted the phone to her ear, she could already hear Jules’s voice calling her name.
“India? Did I wake you? I can’t believe you were taking a nap. You don’t take naps! Now I’m really worried. Are you depressed? Do I need to FedEx you some Xanax?”
Julia finally took a breath, allowing India a moment to respond.
“I’m fine, Jules. I must’ve dozed off for a minute. I won’t let it happen again.”
India yawned and stretched, sinking her long frame deeper into the down coverlet. The thought occurred to her that she could easily stay right here for the entire week, if she wanted to.
Julia sighed, relieved. That was the India she knew and loved. She believed her friend would make it through this rough patch, but she wished she were there with her to help move the process along in person.
“How was the trip from the airport? I totally forgot to remind you about the rental car! Did you have any trouble getting one?”
That was Julia. A puking, pockmarked child at home, and she was still going over the mental checklist to make sure her friend was OK.
“Actually, I got a ride from a guy I met in baggage claim who was headed this way. He was super handsome, so I took him up on his offer of a lift.”
India flopped back against her pillow and waited for the reaction. She smiled in anticipation.
“What? Oh my God . . . you hitchhiked? You won’t even use Uber! Are you crazy? What if he was some lunatic who recognized you, then whisked you away, and chopped you into bits? Why would you do that? I knew you weren’t thinking clearly. I’m coming down there.”
India couldn’t help herself. She burst out laughing, loving her best friend even more in that moment. The perfect yin to her yang.
