Her lashes fluttered as she sighed, everything about her softening. She leaned into me, her forehead resting on mine, her palms sliding on either side of my neck.
“You really get me.”
It wasn’t a question but an acknowledgment of fact. We might not have known everything about each other. Not anymore. But I did know her—deep down.
We were a part of each other.
“Yeah, sweetheart. I get you. I always have.”
No amount of distance would change that.
Chapter Thirty-four
Zara
Letitbeknown,Phoebe Kelly ran a tight ship. When she’d asked me to volunteer at the town market, I’d expected to sit at a booth and sell her baked goods. Over the last couple weeks, I’d been to three planning meetings, painted signs, designed price sheets, and glued hundreds of silk roses to the booth Deke had built from scratch.
This morning, I arrived at the park just after sunrise, the streetlights still glowing. According to Phoebe, this place would be shoulder to shoulder by noon, but we were the only ones here.
That might’ve been because we had the most elaborate setup. I couldn’t imagine anyone else had had a master carpenter build their booth for them. Phoebe was determined we’d raise as much money for the library as we could, so she’d gone all out.
As time went on, one by one, folding tables were set up and white tents bloomed across the park. Farmers with crates of tomatoes, a woman selling jars of pickled vegetables, another with a myriad of jellies, a high school kid arranging bouquets of sunflowers in mason jars, and a couple food trucks lined the curb.
By eight, the park began to swell. Locals showed up, walking with purpose, like they knew exactly where every vendor would be and what they’d planned to buy. Phoebe had left Alice and me in charge while she ran back and forth between the market and her café. We didn’t have to do much to sell the individual boxes of cinnamon buns and little baggies of cookies. They went so fast, we were out before Phoebe could restock us.
Tourists trickled in later. Families in hiking sandals and sunburns, couples wearing matching cowboy hats, and older people studying the printed maps they’d picked up at the five-and-dime that doubled as the information center.
“Are these really for the library?” an older woman asked, peering at our sign.
“They are.” I straightened a stack of napkins that didn’t need straightening as Alice jumped in to explain.
“We’re hoping to add to our children’s section this year. I have big plans for a weekly story time and after-school program.”
“That’s lovely,” the woman said, handing me a twenty and picking up a cookie. “The rest is for the children. I hope you raise lots and lots of money.”
The woman walked away, and Alice and I grinned at each other. We hadn’t spent much time together, but I liked her a lot. She had been quiet at first, but once I’d spoken with her a few times, it’d become clear how smart she was. She’d read more books than I would ever get to in my entire lifetime, and she’d written a series of her own. She also had a sneaky sense of humor and was a great listener. Caleb had gotten lucky when she’d agreed to be his wife.
“The kids of Sugar Brush won’t know what hit them,” I said, slipping the twenty in the lockbox. “They’re going to be buried in new books.”
Alice giggled lightly. “Well, I hope not. Burying children is pretty frowned upon—no matter what it is they’re under.”
I mimed writing on my palm. “Noted. Do not pile books on top of kids. Put books on shelves instead.”
She laughed harder. “That’s the spirit. You’re basically a librarian now.”
“If I can’t find an accounting job, I know where to go.”
She leaned close, her shoulder bumping mine. “You really don’t want to keep guiding? I was under the impression you enjoyed it.”
“Oh, I love it. But I went to school to become an accountant and studied my butt off to become a CPA. I think I just have to find the right job this time. Besides, guiding isn’t really a career.”
“It isn’t?” Alice slowly nodded. “I suppose it’s not acommoncareer, but I wouldn’t say it doesn’t count. You have a regular schedule and get paid to complete a task.”
“There’s no nature guiding major in college.”
“I don’t personally know that to be true, but I’ll trust you on that.” She rubbed her lips together before continuing. “I imagine becoming an expert guide is accomplished more through experience than books. And if you look at it that way, with all your years of exploring the ranch, you’ve put more time into being a guide than getting your degree in accounting.”
Another customer arrived before I could respond, and I was grateful for it. I didn’t really know what to say. She was right. Of course she was. Henrik guided full time. He moved around from country to country depending on the season, never forcing himself to sit in an office.
