“Then what are you doing? You told me after Ben, you weren’t going to waste your time dating anyone who didn’t fit your criteria.”
“Geez Louise. You make it sound like I have a spreadsheet. It’s not that complicated. Beyond the basics, you know, love, attraction, honesty, I just want someone who’s a good human being and who wants a family. That’s it.”
Krista nodded slowly. “But doesn’t he have…how do I put this gently…some heavy emotional baggage?”
Zoe’s posture stiffened. “He’s been through hell, Krista.”
She hadn’t meant to sound so sharp, but the words came out tight and biting. She couldn’t help it. She felt protective of Jackson.
“I’d like to see you go to war and come back without any scars.” Zoe looked away. She needed to calm down. But still—his emotional scars didn’t make her like him less. They were simply part of who he was.
Krista’s face softened. “I know. And I’m not judging, I promise. I just…” She sighed. “You’re the one who said you didn’t want to waste any more time on the wrong guy. I’m just reminding you. I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
Zoe forced a smile. “I know. Trust me, I know. This was why we were taking things slow. But now, seeing as we’re not…I promise I’ll talk to him about the heavy stuff soon enough.”
Zoe decided to switch the subject, filling Krista in on the mystery bloom.
Krista perked up. “My grandparents might know something. They’ve lived here forever and half their stories are about old gardens and orchards that don’t even exist anymore. They’ll be at the Spring Market tomorrow—we can ask?”
Zoe sat up straighter, a thrill sparking in her chest. “Of course! I can’t believe I didn’t think to ask them earlier.” Owningthe campground meant Krista’s grandparents had plenty of trails and tucked-away clearings that no one else knew about.
Her mind drifted, unbidden, to the thought of Jackson exploring them beside her. She could almost hear his low laugh, see the way he’d look at her when she got too carried away with one of her wild theories.
She blinked and forced a smile, trying to shake off the flutter in her chest. “That’s perfect,” she added. “If anyone knows where this flower might still grow, it’s them.”
SIX
JACKSON
Saturday, March 8th
“You’re not changing your mind, are you?” Zoe asked when Jackson called later that night.
He shifted against the headboard of his bed, the wooden beams above him creaking softly in the March wind. His cabin wasn’t much. It was just a converted barn on the far side of the farm, but it was his. Privacy, quiet, a space where he could breathe. He loved his parents, but moving back into the main house after the army wasn’t going to work. This little place had been his friend Zach’s idea. It had been a winter project they’d tackled together a few months ago, fixing up the old hay barn until it felt like home.
“What? No. Never,” he said quickly. “That’s not why I’m calling. I was just thinking…maybe I should post something online. I don’t usually post much, so anything from me would be kind of a big deal.”
“Oh, you’re right,” Zoe said. “We should definitely do something.”
“I’ve got a picture of us from Christmas. Remember when you stopped by and my mom took it?” They had gone for ahike. It was nice, quiet, just the two of them. And just what Jackson needed after the craziness that was his entire family at Christmastime.
Jackson didn’t let himself think too hard about how his mom would react to the news about him and Zoe. Not to the relationship—she’d be over the moon about that. It was the inevitable break-up that made his stomach twist. Maybe he could get out of town for a bit when that day came. His family had a hunting lodge upstate that they never used in the spring. Liam would cover for him at the farm—he owed him that much, especially after Jackson had to work twice as hard during the Christmas Cassidy drama last year.
But there was no point spiraling about the end when they hadn’t even pulled off the beginning yet.
“Unless you think we should take a different picture?” he added. “Here—I’ll text it to you.”
He brought up his messenger app and sent the photo his mom had taken. It had been the afternoon when Zoe pitched the greenhouse and Local Blooms project. He hadn’t taken much convincing. Jackson welcomed any excuse to work outside, and as a man who didn’t sleep much, he still had a lot of free time on his hands. The more projects, the better.
Zoe’s hair had been down that day, a little windblown from the arctic winter air. She’d worn an olive-green knit stocking cap and a navy puffer vest, hands tucked into her pockets. She was leaning against Jackson, his arm draped easily over her shoulders. They were just two friends who were completely at ease with each other.
Jackson smiled to himself. He wasn’t usually one to crack a grin, but in that photo? He’d looked…happy.
“Oh, that’s a great picture,” Zoe said. “Yeah, post that one. Hang on—let me see what I have.”
He waited while she scrolled through her camera roll.
“What about something like this?” she asked, voice tinged with hesitation.
