Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Lora? “Uh, no. Lora and I are not a thing. She just sits by me at church.”
“But she clearly wants it to be a thing.”
The side of my mouth lifts. “But that doesn’t make it a thing.”
“Well, okay. I just wanted to be sure.”
I stare into her sparkling eyes and feel a breath finally reach the bottom of my lungs. I’m not sure if she’s jealous of Lora or just concerned about hurting another woman. Either way, I like it.
Finally, she sighs. “To be honest, I don’t trust myself to be in Sugar Creek for very long without losing my mind. The memories, the comparisons—the looks in people’s eyes when they see me. It’s pity. I hate it.”
“If there’s anyone who understands that, it’s me, Mira.”
Because I do. I know what it’s like to be compared to your parents by someone every day, or to be reminded of something they did or didn’t do. I hear stories weekly about my father, receive condolences to this day from people who I haven’t seen for a while. “It’s terrible your father isn’t here to see you.”
No shit.
“I know that,” she says. “And that’s why you’re the only person I’ve ever admitted that to.” She sits up, pulling the blanket off her lap and draping it on the back of the swing. “So this marriage thing …”
“It’s up to you. I’d never pressure you into anything.”
She smiles.
“But, yeah, it’s up to you,” I repeat because I don’t know what else to say. Anything more would feel like I’m trying to lead her in a certain direction.
“We’d need guidelines,” she says, standing. “If we’re going to get through this next year without complicating things between us, we definitely need some kind of a blueprint.”
I force a swallow. She’s right. Things between us have never been easy to begin with, and under these circumstances—a marriage of convenience—they could get messy. And that’s the last thing I want for her … or me.
“I agree,” I say. “We can hash out whatever makes you feel safe.”
Her eyes sparkle. “Feeling safe with you is never the problem, Hart.”
It feels like I’ve been punched in the chest. She’s gonna destroy me. And I’m gonna let her.
“Want to meet up tomorrow and work things out?” she asks.
“I’ll be out working on Betsy Barn most of the day, if you wanna come out. Or call me, and I’ll meet you somewhere.”
“Okay.” She blows out a breath, a grin flirting with the corner of her mouth. “I guess that’s it then. We’re gonna get married.”
My chest rises, trembling as it moves. “We’re gonna get married.”
I never imagined hearing those words from her lips—not directed at me, anyway. And hearing them tonight, on my porch, with Mira wearing her cute pajamas and no shoes, it’s ridiculous and hard to believe. But it’s true.
It might not be for the right reasons, and it might not even be real, but for the next twelve months, I’ll be in her orbit. And that’s enough.
It has to be.
“Yeah,” I say, giving her a steady smile. “I guess we’re getting married.”
She nods and turns toward her car. I grab the banister and watch her climb in and reverse away from the house.
I don’t breathe again until her taillights are out of sight.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
Mira
“Hey, Cathy,” I say, slowing to a stop in front of Hartley’s house. “I haven’t forgotten about the garden.”
“Sure, you haven’t.” She smiles, wiping her hands on a towel thrown over her shoulder. “I’m surprised you’re still in town. Is Lolly okay?”
Geez. “Yeah, she’s fine. I just …” I narrow my eyes to try to determine whether Hartley told her our news or not. By the concerned look on her face, I take it that he hasn’t. “I might be around for a while.”
“Oh, that’s great. Come by, one of these days, and I’ll make you a pie.”
Cathy, I fear that we’ll be seeing each other more days than not very soon.
“Where are you headed?” she asks from the porch.
“Hart said he’d be out at Betsy Barn most of the day, so I was planning on going out there. Unless he’s not there.”
She shakes her head. “As far as I know, that’s where he is. Tell him that I’m heading into town to grab some things for dinner and some apples for a new counter cake for the week. His lunch is in the oven.”
“Will do. See ya, Cathy.”
“Bye, sweetheart.”
I press the gas and put some distance between myself and Cathy.
“Okay,” I say as I take the dirt road toward the back of the property. “This is getting real-er.” I pause. “More real. Real-er. Whatever.”
I didn’t fall asleep until the sun started to rise. My brain needed at least two hours to replay my interaction with Hartley a hundred times, and then another two to rethink every word, breath, and insinuation that came from Lolly’s mouth. By the time I finally closed my eyes, I’d talked myself into exhaustion.