Page 131 of Always Meant for You
She’s right.
I pat my pockets. In the bluster of finding Elias in the cottage, I forgot to grab the keys to my truck. “I need to run to the cottage.”
“I’ve got to pick up a box from the house. I’ll meet you at the truck,” she says, already heading toward the porch.
I don’t recall her mentioning a box.
“Do you need help with it?”
“No, it’s not heavy.”
I jog back to the cottage, fish my keys from the desk drawer, and glance at the photo beside it. It’s a shot of me and Jamie. We’re fourteen, sunburned, and grinning. His arm slung around my shoulders.
“I love her, Jamie,” I say quietly. “I love your sister with everything I’ve got.”
“Cal, you coming?” Mabel calls from outside.
I smile at the photo, then peer out the door at the woman who makes my damn heart sing. “I’ve got to go. We’re doing it. We’re making it happen in Elverna.”
We’re halfway to town when we hit a bump, and the cardboard box resting at Mabel’s feet catches my eye.
“Are you going to tell me what’s in there?”
She hesitates. “It’s an idea I had. But you might hate it.”
I ease the truck to the shoulder.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“You sound worried. I don’t want that for you. Not today.” I gaze at the box. It’s about the size of a large shoebox. “What’s going on?”
She fiddles with her top’s ruffly trim. “I had something made. It didn’t cost much. I used my own money.”
“Is it for Eat Elverna?”
She nods.
“Will you show it to me?”
She chews her bottom lip. “If you hate it, we can scrap them.”
“All right.”
“And I want your honest opinion,” she says, pegging me with her gaze.
“That’s what you’ll get from me.”
“Promise?”
“Of course.”
She lifts the lid and pulls out a ball cap. Hunter green. Clean stitching.
She hands it to me.
It’s got a heart-shaped lettuce leaf in the center. The wordsEat Elvernacurved around it. Below that, five words are embroidered in cream thread.
I read them aloud. “Organic. Sustainable. Grown with love.”
