But it’sourridiculous.
And when I took it over from my grandmother, I vowed to protect that ridiculousness.
That, and… well, my grandmother died when I was in college, and if I didn’t want someone else looking after this place, I had to drop out to do it myself.
Meaning I don’t have theoptionof doing anything other than this.
So, if Ryder Blackwell wants to barge his way into this town—probably riding the wave of Manhattanites who suddenly find our town socharming—he’s welcome to. But I’m between a rock and a hard place here, and my only option to protect the life I’ve worked so hard for is to do everything in my power to stop him.
I shake my head, throwing my phone on the counter as I hear a car door shut outside.
I wind through the various tables and shelves of the gift shop, fixing a stack of books on plant identification as I go, and push the gift shop door open just as Izzy blusters toward me with a box in her arms.
“Got two more in the trunk for ya!” she says, heading inside. I circle around her Jeep to grab the next one.
And on my way inside, I notice a cellophane-wrapped package next to the door.
My arms full, I ignore it until I can set my box down.
And while Izzy grabs the last one, I bend down to read the note taped to the outside of the package.
Sunflower,
Looking forward to working with you. I truly respect how much you’ve put into this farm, and I do not intend to harm it in any way. Consider this gift basket an olive branch.
Ryder Blackwell
My eyes narrow as I, first, reach over and close Izzy’s trunk for her, and second, grab the gift basket and haul it inside.
Izzy’s halfway through unpacking the first box, loading the promised sunflower art prints onto the shelves next to the register. Her dark hair is piled high on her head, a smudge of orange paint underneath her chin. Her eyes fixon the gift basket in my hands as I walk it to the register and drop it onto the counter next to her boxes.
“What’s that?” she asks, nodding to it as she takes another handful of art prints from the box and distributes them out among the others.
I shake my head. “A gift from the developer next door who’s trying to destroy everything.”
She pauses with a print in each hand, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
I let out a long breath as I collapse onto the stool behind the counter. “Blackwell Development?”
She presses her lips together. “Oh.”
“He says he wants to workwithme, but I have a bad feeling about this. He’s from the city. Builds crappy, ugly apartments, and if this all goes the way I’m expecting it to go, he’s going to ruin all the charm of this place by putting one of his stupid buildings right on the hill.”
Izzy purses her lips, nodding. “Why is he sending you gift baskets?”
I shrug. “He must need something from me. I’ve already pushed him into the stream and slammed a door in his face. To me, that’s the sort of behavior that gets flipped off and forgotten. But he sent a gift basket instead.”
She nods, reaching for the next box and slowly ripping it open. Pencil cases covered in a variety of her sunflower patterns. She makes space on the shelf with the sunflower-themed picture frames and chalkboards and carefully arranges them.
“You pushed him into the stream?”
I grimace. “Not my best moment.”
She nods, a smile coming to her face. “Sounds like somebody has a little crush.”
“Um, I’m not five. I don’t push boys I like into streams.”
She waves me off as she looks for an appropriate place to set up her pencil cases. “Not you.Him. You pushed him into the stream and he responded by sending you a gift basket.”
