Penny paused. The Wassail was a holiday event that Gabe threw every year to celebrate the upcoming growing season. “I guess so? I’ve always wanted to come, but the bookstore’s always so busy this time of year….”
“Believe you me, I get the seasonal peaks and valleys of small business life. But if you can make it, we’d love to have you. It’s our fifth Wassail and we’re going all out to make this one special.”
“Your fifth? Wow. Time really does fly.”
“It does.” He glanced at his son in his arms. “Five years ago, I’d just moved here and barely knew a soul.”
“And then you met Holly and everything changed.”
He gave his son a squeeze. “And I couldn’t be happier.”
She smiled. “Has your friend arrived yet?”
“My troublemaking friend?” he said with a laugh. “He should be here any moment.”
Just then, they heard the sound of a car rolling over gravel. Penny turned and saw a dark sedan rolling up to the house.
“Joshua, guess who that is,” Gabe said. “It’s your Uncle Danny.”
Joshua looked at his dad, his brow furrowing. “Danny?”
He set the boy down. “Do you want to welcome him to the orchard?”
Joshua’s eyes lit up and he tore out of the barn, running toward the car as fast as his little legs could carry him. With a laugh, Gabe hurried to catch up to him, Penny a few steps behind.
A man dressed in jeans and a blue sweatergot out of his car. When he saw Joshua barreling toward him, he bent down and gave the boy a quick hug, then stood up and gave Gabe one, too.
As Penny neared, the arrival’s attention shifted to her.
For just a second, her world slowed. Daniel Bedford was even more handsome in person than he was in his author photo. Tall and athletic, with a thick head of dark hair and broad shoulders, he was gazing at her with intense —and intelligent —brown eyes.
Her pulse quickened.Oh, dear.Intelligent wasn’t good. Intelligence was a known weakness of hers.
The inevitable thought came, unbidden and far too late to be helpful:Ishould have checked my face in the mirror before I got out of the car.
He stepped toward her, his expression focused, hand outstretched. “You must be Penelope Quinn.”
“And you must be Daniel Bedford,” she replied, pleased that her voice came out as calm and courteous.
His hand felt rougher than she expected,almost as if he worked with his hands for a living, which of course he didn’t — typing didn’t count as manual labor.
For a long second, neither spoke. Just as the pause was threatening to become noticeable, he blinked and withdrew his hand, almost reluctantly. “Ms. Quinn, I’m told you’ve agreed to be my Christmas tour guide.”
“I have,” she said. “And please, call me Penny. Your publisher hired me to accompany you on your various Christmas activities.”
“Ah, yes. The business of Christmas.” Though his tone was neutral, it didn’t take a genius to pick up on his disapproval.
“To be clear,” she said, feeling a sudden need to be transparent about her involvement. “I agreed to do this because my bookstore is leaking. Your publisher is paying for a new roof.”
“I see,” he said, his eyes not leaving hers. “Well, I’m glad something good’s come from this.”
Gabe glanced at his watch. “Speaking of the publisher, our call with them is coming up. Let’s head into the house.” He set Joshua down and said, “Can you take Penny inside?”
Joshua looked up at Penny, then reached up, took hold of one of her fingers with his little hand, and led her up the porch steps, one step at a time.
“The door’s open,” Gabe said as he helped Daniel get his luggage out of the car.
After stamping her boots on the doormat, Penny pushed open the front door and made her way inside. She liked this farmhouse and how it felt with its hardwood floors, open floor plan, and abundant natural light. From the direction of the kitchen came the welcome aroma of a freshly baked apple pie.
