“I know, I took him for granted.”
“Just, give him some space, alright?”
I gulp down another sip of coffee, hoping it will correct the way my mouth has suddenly gone dry. Even if Tripp thinks I was worth the wait, this towering barrier remains between us.
“Your sister has gone through quite the ordeal, maybe you should follow Tripp’s example and show her some support.” Our mother shoots him a pointed look before coming around and wrapping me up in a hug. “How about waffles, my dear?”
“The cinnamon sugar ones you make?”
“Of course.” She turns to my brother, adding, “Go get ready for your day and then join us for breakfast.”
Dad drifts over to share a kiss with her before dropping a peck to the top of my head. “I’ve got to get ready for the office, but I’ll be with you in spirit. Call if you need anything.” Together, they disappear from the kitchen, leaving my mother and me alone.
She turns to the cabinet beside the range, pulling out the waffle mix and assortment of necessary ingredients. Moving down the way to get out an oversized bowl, she says over her shoulder, “Pay no mind to your brother’s words.”
“Oh, I wasn’t,” I lie lamely.
The sparkle is back in her eyes when she faces me once again. “Tripp is a kind boy with a caring heart. But he’s also extremely tough, smart, and capable. There’s a reason he was tapped for sheriff before turning thirty. This is what he does, and he’s quite good at it.”
“I’m worried that he’s…” I trail off, unable to explain my concern. Because if I do, I also have to explain what has started to grow between us.
“Emotional?” my mom finishes for me. She chuckles and wraps her arm around my shoulders. “Ivy, I have watched you two look at one another with completely lovesick eyes for years now.”
I peer up at her, shock etched on my face.
“Don’t worry, Wes and your dad are clueless. But all those stolen glances, the special pink chocolate boxes, the way he goes out of his way for you, I certainly noticed. And I’m sorry, by the way, that we intruded on you at the store this week.”
“Mom, no you couldn’t ever intrude. But… I mean with all of this going on, we have gotten closer. And it just makes me so worried.”
“Well, I think it’s about time. But I wouldn’t worry. With this being so personal for Tripp, he’s certainly going to be on his best game out there.”
I want to believe her, to ignore the pit in my stomach. He hasn’t given me a reason to doubt him, ever. Not even for a second.
“Whisk,” she commands. Sliding the bowl of combined ingredients my way. “And catch me up before your brother returns.”
The smell of cinnamon and vanilla lingers in the air as we finish the last bites of breakfast. Throwing back the remainder of my orange juice, I cast a sideways glance at Wes. He’s watching me intently.
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry about earlier. I don’t know what’s been up with me. You know I’m worried about you, right?”
“I know.” I also know that I should be apologizing to him. Maybe he can sense that we’re sneaking around behind his back, maybe that’s what’s up with him.
“I’ve hardly seen you during this time home, and when I do, it’s with Tripp. Which is weird.”
“Then why don’t you two do something together today? I believe Ivy was instructed to stay with a family member, anyway,” Mom suggests from her seat on the other side of me. “With everything going on, you haven’t been able to decorate the store for the fall festival. Wes can help you get all the pumpkins.”
Sitting up straighter in my seat, I turn to face him with wide eyes. “Would you?” There’s not much I enjoy more than picking pumpkins.
“Sure,” he shrugs. “Let’s go to Walker’s.”
Walker Farms is the cornerstone of seasonal cheer in Foxport. With a series of red barns that house the various operations, a fresh market, and acres stretching as far as the eye can see for their produce supply, they have everything you need to get in the festive spirit year-round. A gravel drive leads us to the center of it all, and excitement bubbles up in me as we pull into a spot.
I’m usually here at the beginning of October, the earliest I can get everything and still have it looking fresh by the festival. I was planning on going the week my shop was broken into. Now weeks into October, the month has really gotten away from me. A smile curls my lips and I tilt my head while appreciating the scene before me.
“I love Walker Farms in the fall,” I breathe.
“I know.” Wes laughs beside me. “Come on.”