As Frank swallowed, all the air in the room seemed to evaporate, and even the soothing tick of the grandfather clock faded into the background.
Colt leaned forward, straining to hear Frank’s unspoken words.
“Well, what do you think?” Cassie asked, putting Colt out of his misery.
“I’d take the temperature ten degrees higher next time, but it’s not bad.”
“Next time?” Colt repeated, his tone tentative. “Does that mean…?”
“I could use some extra hands around here,” Frank admitted. “Especially if there’s a honeymoon on the horizon…” As he trailed off, a faint blush crept across his cheeks.
“Woo-hoo! Thank you!” Colt pumped his fist in the air, while Cassie cheered from her perch on the couch.
Colt expected Frank to squirm in discomfort and insist they settle down. But instead, an uncharacteristically broad smile stretched across his face.
“This calls for some pastries with our coffee, don’t you think?” Frank asked, taking another sip.
“That’s a wonderful idea!” Cassie beamed. “I think there are some scones in the kitchen.” She stood and turned to Colt. “Why don’t I grab another mug so you can join us? We’re going over Frank’s proposal plans for tonight, since they’ll have guaranteed privacy while we’re all at the Fourth of July Festival.”
“Sounds great. But I have something even better than scones. I’ll be right back.”
Practically skipping down the hallway in his elation, Colt halted in front of his makeshift bedroom. He’d bought another box of baklava while in San Francisco yesterday, and it would make the perfect celebratory treat.
As he nudged open the creaking door, he froze in surprise.
The barrage of cardboard boxes littering the floor had disappeared. And his twin mattress now rested on a simple wrought iron frame. The ironing board and other miscellaneous items… all gone.
His gaze traveled the newly uncluttered space, coming to rest on a sleek mahogany dresser. He immediately recognized his brother’s handiwork.
Inching closer, Colt plucked a notecard from the smooth surface and scanned the message in disbelief.
Proud of you.
Three simple words. And yet, they filled a gaping hole in his heart he’d been ignoring for years.
Still stunned, Colt took in the surreal surroundings once more. Somehow, in the two hours he’d been out in the barn roasting, Luke and Cassie—and perhaps others—had transformed the storage space into an actual bedroom.
He cracked a smile. The whole time he’d had his secret plan up his sleeve, they’d pulled off an even bigger one. And while he’d been intent on proving himself to Frank, the old man had already given his seal of approval.
His chest tight with emotion, Colt ran a hand along the polished woodgrain, more assured than ever in his decision to stay in Poppy Creek.
After a lifetime of wandering, he finally had a home.
* * *
Emerging from Thistle & Thorn onto the bustling sidewalk of Main Street, Penny nearly ran right into the broad chest of Bill Tucker.
“Whoopsie daisy! Sorry, Penny,” the giant farmer drawled. “Peggy Sue’s in a rush for some corn on the cob.”
Sure enough, the rotund pig tugged on her leash, her curly tail nearly straight from the exertion.
“No problem.” Penny watched with a bemused smile as Peggy Sue’s pink, waddling rump disappeared into the crowd.
All four streets surrounding the town square swarmed with activity. Patriotic bunting draped from the rooftops and red-white-and-blue streamers swirled around every lamppost.
The warm, golden gleam of the late afternoon sun lent the scene a nostalgic, dreamy glow, as though the moment were a snapshot of an idyllic memory.
Penny scanned the white billowy tents dotting the cobbled streets, searching for Mac Houston’s iconic booth. Every Fourth of July, he hosted a fundraiser called the Sizzle & Surprise, which also happened to be the fifth and final activity on the list for the guidebook.
