Page 80 of Hometown Girl

Chapter Twenty-One

At the beginning of their fourth week of working together, Beth arrived at the farm with coffee and pastries, but Drew was already out in the field, working.

She watched for chances to talk to him throughout the day, but he seemed to purposely make himself scarce. By the time she left that evening, she’d given up and left him a note with questions about the orchard and when they could meet with an expert, something that had been near the top of their list since they’d started.

The following morning, she arrived with Molly and Callie, who’d agreed to help with the Fairwind Farm Market. When she knocked on the side door of the farmhouse, there was no answer, and she could only assume Drew was already outside somewhere. Never mind that up until yesterday he’d always waited to get to work until they touched base in the mornings.

She’d grown to enjoy their little tradition. What had changed?

She pushed the door open. “Why don’t we get started in here?” she said to Molly and Callie, hoping her disappointment didn’t show on her face.

“As long as I get the apple fritter,” Callie said.

Beth set the bag of pastries down on the table and glanced out at the yard. No sign of Drew, only the crew who’d started to wander in from the parking lot.

“I’ve got some creamer in the fridge,” she said. “Let me get it.” She pulled it out and was closing the refrigerator door when something in the trash can caught her eye.

The note she’d left the night before about the orchard.

It had been pulled off the fridge, crumpled up and discarded, like a nuisance. Not that she’d expected him to pin it up to his bulletin board like some keepsake, but seeing it in the trash like that put Beth right back in the conference room at Whitaker Mowers, desperately trying to sound like she knew what she was talking about, that she deserved respect.

She’d been striving to prove that she was more than just Jed Whitaker’s daughter since the day she’d graduated college. She’d known she’d never accomplish everything she was meant to if she wasn’t able to make these people take her seriously.

She brushed the thought away. This wasn’t that. Drew was hardly the staff at her dad’s company, and a crumpled-up note was hardly a brush-off. She knew a brush-off. Being asked to resign from your own father’s company—nowthatwas a brush-off.

“Beth?” Callie’s hand on her shoulder pulled her back to reality.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Well, let’s get to work, then.”

“I’ve been doing a lot of research,” Beth said, sitting down at the table across from them. “There’s a whole community of artists, makers and vintage vendors with huge followings.”

“Duh.” Molly took a bite of one of Callie’s freshly baked apple fritters.

“You knew this?”

“You didn’t?”

Beth frowned.

“You’ve spent way too much time in your office.”

“How’s that going, by the way?” Callie broke a piece off an apple fritter and popped it in her mouth.

“Work?” Beth’s stomach dropped.Can we not talk about work?

“Yeah, how are they handling it with you out here every day?”

Beth met Callie’s eyes. She should’ve told her the truth. Should’ve told Molly. She’d made this whole thing worse. It was humiliating.

“She took a leave,” Molly said. “I’m sure they don’t mind. They’re probably just so happy you’re still on their staff.”

I. Was. Wrong.

The words echoed through Beth’s mind. Why was saying it aloud still so difficult?

“Well, that’s true.” Callie laughed.

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