Jackson clenched his jaw, dragging himself out of the fantasy before it could spiral further. His heart was pounding, body throbbing, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
He didn’t get to want like that—not with her.
Not when he was still too broken to give her anything real.
“It was just a hug, for Christ’s sake,” Jackson muttered under his breath, picking up a bale of hay and carrying it into the barn.
Even though the calendar said spring, the nighttime temperatures were set to dip low, and Jackson was out in the llama sanctuary making sure Daisy and Tinsel had plenty of extra straw to stay warm through the night.
They’d be adding more llamas to the place soon if everything turned out the way he and Zoe had planned. She had come to him just after Christmas, eyes bright with excitement, talking about her dream of transforming her flower shop into a beacon of local blooms. That’s where Jackson came in. With her help, he was going to grow flowers on his farm using sustainable methods, to supply her shop. There would be a garden and a greenhouse, near the growing llama sanctuary.
What truly stirred Jackson was their dream of opening up their world to others, especially the children of Maple Falls.They wanted them to discover the wonder of growing life. From planting seeds to tending rows of blooms, it would give the next generation a chance to fall in love with the land that sustained them all.
That part was trickier. They’d spent long evenings at Zoe’s apartment, laptops open, mugs of tea cooling on the counter, poring over grant opportunities and circling anything that might keep their dream alive.
Jackson had a knack for spotting the practical ones, while Zoe’s planner was full of hopeful stars and doodled flowers marking deadlines. She went a step further, sending out heartfelt emails to philanthropists who cared about farming, teaching, and the environment—people she hoped might believe in Maple Falls as much as she did.
Now, with their letters and applications sent, all they could do was wait.
The Local Blooms project would be closely linked to the refuge Jackson was building for veterans. The llamas had steadied him after Syria, their quiet presence and simple routines giving him something to hold onto when everything else felt impossible. He wanted other soldiers to have that chance too. He dreamed of a place on his farm where they could stay at low cost, work with the animals, and sink their hands into the soil. Now with Zoe’s help, he was designing a vibrant garden by the new little huts, a sanctuary full of blooms and winding paths. If all went according to plan, by the end of spring the refuge would be ready to open its doors.
He was in the middle of closing up, and definitely not thinking about all the things he and Zoe could do together alone in the greenhouse, when his phone buzzed in his back pocket. He wiped his hands on his jeans before pulling it out.
It was a text from Liam.
You and Zoe are dating? Why am I always the last to know?
Jackson stared at the screen, his breath clouding in front of him. He shook his head.
“No way,” he muttered to the barn. There was no way his twin brother would’ve known what he was just thinking about. They were close, but not that close.
He thumbed a reply.
No idea what you’re talking about, man. We’re just friends.
He could practically hear Liam’s laugh through the phone as he tucked it away and returned to the feed bins.
It was probably Mrs. Bishop or Mrs. C. Those two retirees ran the town’s crafting club and its unofficial gossip network. They’d probably seen him chatting with Zoe over coffee at the bakery. That was all it took around here. He wouldn’t be surprised if they’d announced their alleged engagement at bingo night.
He shook his head as he finished up for the night, tossing a few extra oats into the feed trough and double-checking the barn door latches. He and Zoe were just friends.
So why couldn’t he shake the way his pulse had jumped when she’d leaned into him? The way her breath had brushed his chest, soft and unguarded, like she trusted him completely?
He could still feel her there. The warmth pressed against him, heartbeat against heartbeat. The start of something that could be so much more.
THREE
ZOE
Saturday, March 8th
Sunlight spilled through the front windows of theCherry Crush Flower Shop, catching on glass vases and colorful ribbons. Zoe stood in the middle of it all with hair twisted into a messy bun, apron dusted with flecks of greenery, a cinnamon bun perched on the edge of her worktable beside her tea. The faint scent of freshly cut stems and damp soil clung to the air.
Outside, Zoe could see Maple Falls waking up in true spring fashion. Across the street, Meg was washing the bookshop’s front windows, sleeves pushed up. Two empty planters waited by her feet, soon to be filled with fresh blooms. Down the block, Madison and Zach were hard at work at the Cinnamon Spice Inn. Zach was power-washing the front porch while Madison knelt in the flower beds, pulling away winter’s dried leaves.
Spring cleaning in Maple Falls was a ritual, and the whole town seemed to hum with it. Zoe had always loved the season’s energy, the return of color and the sense of new beginnings. Even if her own version of “spring cleaning” usually meant rearranging her display window and pretending that counted as dusting.
A light breeze rattled the bare upper branches of the maples outside her window, though the lower limbs were lined with tight buds. Zoe’s gaze followed the movement until she spotted Emma—a sweet eight-year-old who loved flowers almost as much as Zoe did—munching on a powdered donut while her dad, Tyler, trailed behind her, deep in conversation with Mrs. Bishop. Zoe smiled. If Tyler wasn’t careful, Mrs. Bishop would have him set up on a blind date before they finished their coffee.
