They worked together once he’d done his bit, their brushes periodically dipping into the tin of varnish and as they worked back and forth with gentle brushstrokes, he knew that no matter whether she left, he’d remember her forever as the girl who’d come into his life by chance and the one he wished he could hold onto forever.
17
Morgan drove from her cottage to the Snowdrop Lane markets, already looking forward to spending time with Nate again, no matter that she’d only seen him last night.
It saddened her that today was Nate’s penultimate stint at the stall – he had quite the talent, which she’d appreciated all the more last night watching him in action. The things he made were beautiful; the way he worked was true craftmanship. Even the way he’d used the varnish was different to the way she did it. She simply applied the coating with the brush, whereas his strokes were carefully considered, his artistic hands finishing the job he’d started a long time ago. He was a man who downplayed his skill, which spoke more about the sort of person he was than anything else. And so did donating all the proceeds to charity.
When she pulled into a space on the field, slowly so the bumps not made for little cars didn’t upset any of her stock in the boot, she paused for a minute. Hands on the wheel, she looked at her engagement ring and wondered – should she take it off? She had to give it back to Ronan, it wouldn’t feel right not to, but keeping it on was a way to stop anyone asking questions she didn’t particularly want to answer. And it kept a distance between her and Nate, no matter what either of them wanted. Because she knew now, more than the day outside Snowdrop Cottage, that he had feelings for her too. She hadn’t imagined it. But she did owe it to him and to herself to wait a while. A broken engagement wasn’t something you moved on from just like that before leaping into something new.
She glanced down the row of vehicles. Nate’s pick-up was already here and when she approached their stall – listen to her,theirstall, as if that’s the way it had always been – the look they exchanged was an acknowledgement that both of them were thinking about yesterday and last night. The way he looked at her was different, as if they’d peeled back another layer of their friendship, and she tried her best not to feel too giddy with the possibilities.
There was a lot of crossover as they worked – getting each other a coffee, helping with customer enquiries if the other was busy with someone else. They adopted a rhythm and a flow that felt natural. As the day progressed, it was even on the tip of Morgan’s tongue to suggest to Nate a drink at the pub. She needed to thank him for fixing her shelf, for saving Marley, for being a friend. But instead, she stayed as they were, two friends working on a stall, not rushing into anything.
She’d just sold a Victorian tea caddy in turquoise when she noticed the wooden cart Nate had at the front of his stall. It had been hidden next to the table and a few other items that had since been snapped up. ‘This is brilliant,’ she told him. ‘My niece has a similar one, pushes it around everywhere, knocking into the walls, making my brother-in-law cringe every time. Henry will have to repaint once Lily has grown out of it.’
Nate rested his hand on the handle of the cart, which was well-crafted and contained big, coloured cubes for stacking and hand-eye coordination. ‘I gave a similar one to my best friend whose wife had a little boy. He loved it and sounds like he’s doing the same as your niece. Either that or he stacks the blocks up and then charges at them to send them flying.’
‘Maybe I won’t suggest that game to Lily.’
Nate did a bit of rearranging at his stall now some stock had been shifted. But there were plenty of wonderful things left for Morgan to admire. She’d felt it was encroaching a little last night to really raid through what he had but here, it was different; it was what customers did, after all. She complimented him on the gorgeous duckboard painted in white that would be a wonderful addition to a contemporary bathroom, the bath caddy she could imagine putting across the tub and resting her Kindle on, the wooden blanket ladder that could hold at least three blankets, the block candle holder for tealights she could picture on the mantelpiece above a fireplace.
Morgan sold a couple of items to a woman who had a bag from the bakery stall, a bunch of bright yellow flowers presumably from Hildy’s stall and another little bag filled with cookies from Sadie’s pitch. ‘You’ve done well today.’
‘I love it here; you’re all so wonderful. It’s my favourite day of the week, market day.’
‘Mine too,’ Morgan told her, looking sideways at Nate, one of the biggest reasons for her liking being here these days.
When his customer went on their way, she asked, ‘Will one more week be enough for you to sell everything?’
‘I think so. I’ll see.’
‘So you might have to come back?’ Her breath caught in her throat at the thought.
‘It’s a possibility.’
Possibility. She liked that word.
‘When’s your interview?’ he asked.
She hadn’t wanted to talk much about it last night in his workshop. ‘This Tuesday.’
‘Nervous?’
Morgan broke off the conversation to take payment for a beaded bag her customer said was perfect for her daughter who loved to play dress-up. She turned to Nate. ‘I don’t think so, at least not yet. I might be right before, though.’
‘Listen, about everything I said yesterday…’ He had his hands tucked into the pockets of his money belt as though he didn’t know what else to do with them.
‘I won’t go repeating it if that’s what you’re suggesting.’
‘I wasn’t. I just wanted to say thanks for listening. And… well, you made me feel better.’
The way he looked at the ground, self-conscious because he’d bared his soul, was adorable. ‘I’m glad to have helped. We both did our best, Nate.’
‘I suppose we did.’
‘We did. Both of us. In difficult circumstances. And if someone asked you, could you really say you could’ve done more? Other than stay with your mum twenty-four seven, I don’t think you could have.’
He chuckled. ‘Twenty-four seven would’ve driven her insane.’
