Jake has helped me so much over the past few days, the least I can do is help him in return.
Besides, I officially love this place.
Just like I love him.
The thought comes effortlessly into my brain, and the truth of it resonates in my body. I don’t back away from it this time. Don’t try to rationalize it or explain it away.There’s no need.
Not anymore.
“Do you know when Jake will be back?” I ask, pulling out my wallet.
Truvy shakes her head. “No. And it’s on the house, remember?”
I nod, stowing my wallet in my apron, realizing for the first time that I’m still wearing it. Good thing, I guess, since I know what I’m going to do when I get back to my shop.
I say my goodbyes to Truvy, thanking her again for the coffee and the pastries before moving the arrangement I made for Jake closer to the edge of the counter. It looks good there. Right.
And there’s more where that came from.
I glance at the two mothers by the window on my way out. I don’t miss that they’ve stopped talking and are watching me. In the past, that would have bothered me, but not today. Today, I give them a wave and a friendly smile, like all the locals I’ve seen around here do, and I step out into the morning sunshine, ready for my next adventure.
I don’t know if Jake will be back later today or if he’ll be boondocking all weekend for his training, but I do know that I have my very first client now.
And I’m excited to deliver.
Of Plans and Peonies
Jake
“I’m starving,” Zander says, running a hand through his already disheveled brown hair and leaning back against the headrest in the passenger seat. “I need a green chile burger, stat.”
I chuckle, fastening my seatbelt. After that grueling training, I’m hungry too.
“Let’s see what’s around here,” I say, firing up the Bronco.
Zander barks out a laugh. “Not a damn thing, unless you want to forage or hunt.”
I shake my head, smiling.
He’s not wrong. We’re in the middle of the San Juan Wilderness, having just completed our Wilderness First Responder recert—an intense day and a half of judging conditions, running rescue sims, and treating imaginarily gruesome and life-threatening wounds.
“I’m too tired to hunt,” I tell him, adjusting the interior temp. It was freezing when we arrived yesterday morning, but with the midday sun, things have warmed up considerably.
“Same,” he groans comically. “I could eat an entire elk, though.”
I laugh at Zander’s antics, reaching into the console for my phone.
“Such a drama queen.”
“That’s king, thank you very much,” he says in a nod to Elvis. “And I’m ready for some real food. Cold-soaked oats and trail mix aren’t—What’s up?”
I glance up from my phone at Zander, who is frowning at me.
“Just checking messages.”
And absolutely astounded at the one Truvy left me yesterday.
“Our new next-door neighbor came by. Holly. She’s nice. Brought you these and left her info. Otherwise uneventful day. Good luck with your training.”
