Hawthorne wasn’t sure the student’s motivation was so innocent. If Avery’s students were anything like Hawthorne in college, they had way more than chemistry on the brain. “No problem, I’m just glad you made it. Can I buy you a drink?”
“I’ll stick with iced tea.”
Hawthorne nodded and ordered two iced teas. With a wink at Avery, he added an order of mozzarella sticks. Before Wendy left, he added “Oh, and Wendy?”
Their waitress looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m sorry about the way my friends—and I—treated you. You deserve better.”
Wendy relaxed and gave a small smile. “Thanks.”
“Have they been back without me? I can talk to them if you need me to.”
She shook her head. “No, I think your friend here pretty much scared them away.” Wendy gestured to Avery with her pen and added, “Thanks for that, by the way.”
“Anytime,” Avery replied.
Wendy looked at each of them curiously and said, “I’ll put your appetizer in and be right back with your drinks.”
As Wendy turned away, Avery studied him. “So?”
“So,” he replied.
“What are we doing here?” Avery didn’t sound unkind, more curious than anything.
“Well,” he began, “I thought we should talk.”
“I got that much.” Avery’s sarcasm made him smile.
“Yeah, okay. Here’s the thing: my mom about tanned my hide last night after she saw us in the hallway.” The truth was his mom had all but grabbed him by the ear and pulled him onto the back deck, where he proceeded to freeze his toes off while she lectured him about respect and boundaries.
Avery flushed and closed her eyes. “I’m so embarrassed. I never should have—”
“You didn’t do anything, Avery,” he interrupted. “The truth is,” he paused and gathered the courage to say what he’d been practicing mentally all day, “I don’t really date much, but I like you. A lot.”
Avery’s eyes grew wide and she let out a breath. “Wow. That’s not exactly what I was expecting.”
Seriously? Had she not been in the same hallway he had last night? “Really? What did you expect?”
“I’m not sure. But it wasn’t that.” Avery waved her hands, gesturing to the busy bar. “I sort of figured you were bringing me here to let me down gently or ask me to stay away from the farm.”
Hawthorne furrowed his brow. “What? Why would you need to stay away from the farm? You’re always welcome there.”
“Okay…” After a long hesitation, she continued, “Hawthorne, this isn’t a good idea.”
He felt his brow furrow and replied, “What do you mean?”
“You and me. We’re not a good idea.” With her clarification, Hawthorne felt his stomach lurch.
He leaned toward her across the small table, “Why not? I like you, and I think you like me too. Unless my signals are all mixed up, I’m pretty sure you wanted me to kiss you last night.”
Avery flushed, “That’s not the point. The point is that I’m not looking for something casual.”
Hawthorne interjected with a shake of his head, “Neither am I.”
Avery looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “You’re not? You’re looking for marriage and kids and the whole shebang? Because that’s what I’m waiting for.” She watched his face and must have seen the panic he was desperately trying to stuff back down. “That’s what I thought.” Avery stepped off her bar stool and Hawthorne laid a hand on her arm.
“Just wait, Avery. Give me a chance.” It felt an awful lot like begging, which made him feel pathetic and he pulled his arm back.
A long moment later, where Hawthorne felt like the fate of the world rested on the outcome, Avery softened and sat back down. “I’ll stay until the mozzarella sticks are gone.” At the victory on his face, she added, “But only because I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”
Hawthorne sighed with relief. Why did the thought of her walking away scare him so much? Her concerns were valid, he’d give her that. But he had about seven minutes until the appetizer. Could he convince her to give him a second chance at a first impression? “Can I tell you a story while we wait?”
Wendy dropped off their drinks, and after Avery agreed, Hawthorne started from the beginning.
“During college, I started a company. It took off and by six months after graduation, I had fourteen full-time employees and a handful of six-figure investors.” At her surprised look, Hawthorne felt the traitorous swell of pride. Wouldn’t it be nice if that was where the story ended?
“We were doing great, but got overextended.” Hawthorne rubbed a hand over his face, and admitted the worst part, “The company went bankrupt and people lost their jobs. I couldn’t even pay everyone their last paychecks.” His voice broke and he swallowed painfully. “I let them all down.”
He looked up, trying to read Avery’s face and seeing only compassion. “I had no idea, Hawthorne.”
It wasn’t exactly something he advertised, but he bit back the sarcastic comment. In many ways, that chapter of his life had been an Indiana tornado, tearing through quickly and leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. Hawthorne shrugged, “I really don’t talk about it much. It’s been ten years, which seems like a long time when I say it out loud. But the idea of having people rely on me again… Even thinking about it makes me want to hide in the hayloft.”
With a small smile, Avery laid her hand across the table over his. “That must have been hard to go through.”
That was putting it lightly. At the time, he felt like the biggest failure. He still did, most of the time. Hawthorne ducked his head, embarrassed at the admission. Avery was quiet for a moment and he studied her delicate hand resting on his, dirt and grease still staining the edges of his fingernails. He flipped his hand so it rested palm-to-palm with hers.
Quietly, Avery broke the comfortable silence, her fingers twisting with his, “So what now?”
Hawthorne looked up from their interlocked fingers. “What do you mean?”
“If you are scared to let someone count on you again, what do you see happening here?” Avery’s eyes were kind but imploring. “I’ve been with someone I couldn’t rely on, and I’m not making that mistake again.”
Dozens of questions sprang to mind, his desire to know more about her story overwhelming him. Who hurt her? The image of Avery hurt and broken, the exact opposite of the strong woman he’d seen since she came home, flashed before him. Is that what he would do to her?
He had to believe he wouldn’t. Otherwise, Hawthorne was destined to watch her find happiness with someone else.
“Avery, I’m terrified of letting someone down again.” Especially her, if his racing pulse and rolling stomach were any indication. “It was the worst thing I’ve ever experienced. But at the same time, I don’t want to let you go.”
Avery shook her head in response, “I can’t be your experiment.” She pulled her hand away, and the loss of contact cooled his hand and his confidence. He stared at his now empty palm and felt the absence of her hand as though his own had been cut off.
Swallowing nervously, he spoke the only words that came to mind. “I’m not going anywhere,” he told her.
Avery smiled, “Neither am I.”
A glimmer of hope flashed. If he wanted Avery, it would mean stepping up. Not only for her, but for his family and the farm. Was he ready to do that?
He watched Avery pull a string of melted mozzarella away from her lips, a smile tugging at his own. If there had ever been a woman worth working for, it was her.
8
Poppy came to him a few days later, nervously twisting her rings around her fingers.
Glancing up from the tractor tire he was inspecting, he raised an eyebrow. “Spill it, Poppy.”
“I need to get away for a day or two.”
He straightened in surprise and grabbed a rag to wipe his hands. “For what?”
Poppy looked d
own, “I can’t say. But I need someone to keep an eye on things for me.” She looked up at him, almost a full head taller. “Lewis and Clint know everything that needs done, but if anything happens… Could you just run things around here for a few days?”
Hawthorne frowned. This was an unusual request, far outside his normal responsibilities. “What about Dad?” he asked.
Poppy’s shoulders sagged. “I was hoping not to bring Mom and Dad into this.” Then, his sister turned away, her cotton skirt twirling around her boots. “It’s fine. Forget I asked.”
The conversation with Avery echoed in his mind. Maybe it was time for him to face his fear. “Wait, wait. I’ll do it.” Maybe this was an answer to prayer. He’d been diving into his Bible in the evenings since he stopped heading to town every night. He had no idea how to make it happen, but he’d been praying for God to help him see how he could move beyond the hang-ups from his past.
Poppy sighed with relief as he continued, “But you owe me. And I expect to hear what this is all about sooner rather than later,” he gave her a pointed look. She grinned and a scary thought hit him, “You’re not eloping with some guy, right?”
Poppy scoffed at him, “Who would I run away with? You know I haven’t been seeing anyone.” Then, she stepped in close and wrapped her arms around him. He held the dirty rag away from her and patted her shoulder. “Thanks, Hawthorne.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just be careful with whatever you’re doing.” The protective big-brother instinct never really went away—even when his sisters were nearly thirty themselves. At least Poppy was pretty level-headed. If it had been Lavender or Daisy coming to him with some suspicious story about leaving home for a few days, he would have gone into interrogation mode.
He already knew Clint and Lewis, Poppy’s farmhands, but he and Poppy tracked them down in the field harvesting the last of the pumpkins and winter squash. After letting them know Hawthorne would be their main contact for the next few days, Poppy went back to the main house to pack a bag.
Even though he hadn’t expected it to be difficult, Hawthorne was still surprised how easy it was to be the boss over the next few days. There was a surge of energy that came with being the decision-maker. Clint came to him with questions about the apple orchard, since the season was almost over, and the pick-your-own apple events had ended. It was an easy call to make for Hawthorne, and he told Clint to pick the rest of the apples that were good. If he knew his sister at all, Poppy would want to make apple butter to sell next year.
Then, he had them take any half-rotten apples over to the animal barn, since he knew Rose always needed more food for the pigs. Those darn animals would eat literally anything you gave them. At Rose’s surprised reaction, he gathered that wasn’t something they’d ever done before. The simple exchange got him thinking about other ways different portions of the farm could support each other.
Before he made it too far down that line of thought though, Poppy returned and took back her office, dodging his questions about her impromptu disappearance. He’d helped a few others while she was gone—a minor computer issue for Lavender and a leaky faucet at the event barn.
When he stopped by the bed and breakfast and heard Daisy arguing with Lance, her new contractor, he couldn’t help but step in to mediate.
Lance spoke first, gesturing wildly with a tape measure in hand. “Tell your sister that it is crazy to have a commercial size refrigerator and stove for a bed and breakfast that will serve eight people one meal a day!”
Daisy stomped her foot, her nose sprinkled with drywall dust. “Tell Lance that I’m not paying him to criticize my plans.”
Lance sputtered and Hawthorne held up a hand. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Take a minute, you two.” Then he shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on here; I could have sworn you were finally getting along.” Hawthorne narrowed his eyes at his sister and Daisy tucked her chin.
He looked at Lance, “Tell me why it’s a bad idea.” When Daisy tried to jump in, he held up a finger to silence her, “Let the man talk, Daze.”
Lance explained the extra cost of electrical work for the larger appliances and the cost of the appliances themselves. With a nod, Hawthorne turned to his sister. “And why do you want the commercial-grade equipment?”
Daisy cast a vision for a commercial kitchen where a chef could prepare and serve a breakfast that garnered rave reviews. She was convinced a high-quality kitchen would help attract a high-quality chef. As she spoke, Hawthorne’s own strategic mind took off.
He looked at Lance and waved a thumb toward Daisy. “I’m with her on this one.” Daisy jumped up and pointed triumphantly at her contractor before Hawthorne interrupted her celebration, “Not for the reasons you said, sis.”
She glared at him, but a hint of curiosity was etched on her face. “Why, then?”
Hawthorne explained, “We’ve got to think big picture. With the event center and the bed and breakfast, we would have more than enough work to keep a chef busy. And they wouldn’t be serving eight people once per day. They could be serving two hundred people three times a week, which means a commercial kitchen would be exactly what they need. Plus,” he continued, “Poppy could grow her canning and prepared foods business if she had a kitchen other than Mom and Dad’s.”
It seemed so obvious how they could leverage their talent, space, and access to customers and take Bloom’s Farm to the next level.
Lance nodded. “That makes sense,” he conceded. To Daisy, he said, “You win. On a technicality.”
“I’ll take it,” she said before floating up the stairs.
Hawthorne asked Lance about the renovations and teased him about dealing with Daisy.
Lance shook his head, “I don’t know how you live with her. She wears me out.”
Hawthorne chuckled, “I don’t think she puts nearly as much energy into antagonizing me as she does you.” His sister was a fireball, for sure. It was no wonder Lance’s methodical, controlled nature was clashing with Daisy’s ready-shoot-aim approach. If nothing else, the fireworks were fun to watch.
The chemistry he could see erupting between his sister and the unsuspecting contractor had him thinking of Avery. Oh, they had the chemistry side of things covered, but maybe he was finally embracing some of the responsibility he needed to prove himself to Avery. In just a few days, he’d created new opportunities for the farm to work more efficiently. While Poppy was gone, he’d been the person making the decisions—and he didn’t hate it. Actually, it was freeing to let out the ideas he’d been burying.
All this time, had he been fooling himself thinking it was better to be the handyman, available from eight to five and only doing what was asked? He’d forgotten how fun it had been at the pinnacle of the company’s success to look at the processes and unite the team behind a vision.
It didn’t feel like enough, though. Not enough to call Avery and tell her. A few measly ideas and a two-day stint as the fill-in supervisor over the farmhands? That wasn’t responsibility, but it was a start. And it felt good.
Hawthorne stopped by the main house a few days later to talk with his dad. He caught him in the kitchen, making coffee. It was something his dad did every morning, even though he didn’t drink it himself and only made it to bring a cup to his mom. "What brings you here this early?" his dad asked.
Hawthorne swallowed his nervousness. "Well, I figured it would be good for us to catch up a bit over breakfast. Maybe see how I can help."
His dad scooped coffee grounds into the filter, "Hawthorne, you do plenty already."
"I know I help out,” he shook his head, “but I sometimes feel like the things I’m doing could easily be done by anyone. Shouldn't I be doing more?"
Keith raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Do you want to do more?"
Hawthorne jerked a shoulder, “I don't know. Maybe?"
"I thought after…” his dad waved a hand as he trailed off.
Hawthorne knew what he was referring to and filled in the blanks, "You mean, afte
r I bankrupted my company and put fourteen people out of a job?"
His dad shrugged, “Well, yeah. That.”
Hawthorne sighed, “I’m not saying I want that kind of responsibility again, because I don't. But maybe I could do a bit more here."
"Most of what needs done is the general manager stuff. Payroll, taxes, annual planning. Thank God for your mother. I never would have managed all the financial work without her. Now, mostly what I do around here is just make sure we don't shoot ourselves in the foot."
Hawthorne cringed. "Like I did, you mean?"
Realizing his gaff, Keith flinched and turned to his son. "That's not what I was saying—”
Hawthorne felt the fire in his cheeks and his pulse rising in embarrassment. He cut off his father’s explanation, not wanting to hear any more. “It's fine, Dad. If you don't want my help, I’ll just keep doing my own thing and whatever else my sisters need.” The chair he’d been sitting in scraped noisily against the floor as he stood. “I think Lily needs some help tearing down from the banquet the other night.” He spoke over his father’s objections, ducking out the door just as he heard his father’s call.
“Hawthorne, wait!”
9
Avery thought about declining when Mandy invited Avery to the wedding. Even though she’d been able to catch up with her at the girls’ night, it had been years since she’d seen her childhood friend before that.
Still, the invitation clipped to her refrigerator mocked her, the location marked as “Bloom’s Farm Storybook Barn”. If she went, she might run into Hawthorne. She remembered him and Josh being thick as thieves, but she couldn’t figure out if the potential Hawthorne sighting was a mark in the pro or the con column of her decision-making process.
Avery knew Daisy was in the wedding and the others would be there, too. Plus, anything was better than another evening spent at her apartment reading. She was definitely not going so she could see Hawthorne. Just in case, though, Avery spent a little extra time perfecting her makeup and retrieved the dreaded spandex shapewear from the back of her closet. She wanted to look good in the pictures, that was all. Certainly not trying to impress anyone.
Hoping for Hawthorne Page 5
