“You sold the table!” Dorothy clapped her hands. “I knew someone would buy it. It was such a great piece.”
“Thanks. I’m thrilled.” She continued to work, unpacking string pumpkins and candlesticks for display. Selling the table had been her biggest hope and stress, and since kissing Judd, she’d hardly thought about it. He’d taken up more of her mental space than ever—which was saying something, because he was in every part of her life.
Dorothy glanced over her shoulder. “You know, I never would have asked you to set me up with Judd if I’d known you were in love with him.”
Wynn dropped a candlestick. The shaft cracked as it hit the ground. She gasped and squatted to pick it up. This particular piece was a favorite. She’d spent hours with the Dremel getting it just right. “I’m not in love with him.” She spoke to the ground as she gathered up the pieces.
They’d kissed. Why was it so hard for people to differentiate between a kiss and a lifetime commitment? Wait—Dorothy didn’t know they were locking lips on a regular basis. Unless Birdie was a bigger gossip than Millie Douglas and had told half of Harvest Ranch about last night. That would be a stretch even for Millie’s mad skills.
Dorothy frowned. “I’m not trying to pry. I just wanted you to know I wasn’t trying to move in on your territory.”
Wynn stood up and tossed the broken candlestick into the garbage can. “He’s not my territory. What is with this town? Judd and I are friends. That’s all we’re ever going to be. I’ve had my marriage, and I’m not looking for another one.”
Dorothy’s eyes jumped over her shoulder, and Wynn turned to find Judd with a box in his hands—the box she’d packed and accidently left on her front porch this morning. His cheeks were red, and his eyes were stricken. “I saw this on your porch and thought you might want it.” He set the box down and turned away.
Wynn bit her cheek to keep from calling after him. She glanced at Dorothy. “Do you think he heard me?”
Dorothy nodded, biting her bottom lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
Wynn held up a hand. “It’s me.” Tears burned her eyes. “I shouldn’t have said all that. The truth is, I have no idea what I feel lately.” She sniffed. “Case in point—I don’t cry. Haven’t for a long time. But I’m leaking all over.” She used her hoodie sleeve to wipe the moisture off her cheeks.
Dorothy pulled a tissue out of her purse and handed it over.
“Thanks.” Wynn wiped under her eyes. “People keep telling me I’m in love with him, and I just don’t know. I’ve been in love before, and this is nothing like that.”
Dorothy was quiet for a moment—like she had something to say but debated if it was a good idea to stick her finger in the pudding. “It wouldn’t be, would it?”
Wynn shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
Dorothy leaned against a table. “Every person is different, and love is the product of the chemistry between them. So there are infinite possibilities for love throughout the world.”
“I guess. I mean, yeah. I hadn’t thought of it that way before.” Wynn settled herself next to Dorothy. She watched booth owners bustle about with their opening tasks. In a few days, all this would be over, and she’d be back to real life. Was it possible that love was never the same? “I wish I had a pumpkin cocoa right now.”
“Aren’t they delish? I had one the other night. I hope Choco-Latte keeps making them after the festival is over.”
“Michelle will keep it on the menu until it’s time to switch to Christmas cocoa.” Wynn rolled up the tissue and stuffed it in her pocket. She sighed.
A small line appeared between Dorothy’s eyebrows. “I had a thought—but it sounds kind of mean, so I probably shouldn’t say it.”
“You helped me set up the booth—without pay. You earned the right to speak your mind. And I’d love an honest opinion right now.”
Dorothy paused, glancing up as if weighing her words. “I just think—well, Judd’s a great guy and he’s all tied up in you and your kids, and that sort of makes him unavailable.”
“So?”
“So, is it really fair to him? I mean, how’s he ever going to have a family of his own if he’s busy raising yours?”
Wynn dropped her face in her hands. “He would be such a great father or even stepdad. He loves my children like they’re his own, and he could do that for some other kids out there who need a good male influence in their lives.” Her mouth soured at the thought of him with someone else. But what was she going to do, lock him away—figuratively, of course—until Laney graduated high school? He’d be too old to start over.
She wasn’t even sure she’d be able to let him go then. Because she wanted him. Not just the guy who told bedtime stories, but him—the man with strong hands and a tender heart. The guy who saw a box on her porch and drove all the way into town to make sure she had it. He deserved a woman who would marry him.
And she just … couldn’t. She’d loved Thatcher, but deep down, she hadn’t loved being married to him. Maybe his health and imminent passing had been too much for an eighteen-year-old to take on, but even with the good times factored in, she hadn’t liked being married because she lost herself in the process.
She was such a horrible person to even think that!
There was no way she could expose her darkest thoughts to Judd or anyone else. They’d think she was a monster. The whole family had sung her praises from the first day she’d become a Westwood. It made her feel like she was better than her no-good father and the stink he’d left on this town.
“And a woman needs a good man.” Dorothy bumped shoulders with her. “Not that I’m going after the position. I’ve sort of been dating someone.”
