Page 59 of The Christmas Blueprint

“Since you’re feeling so brave on my account,” Sophia said. “How about bellying up to that bar called life and letting me set up an art show for your roosters—an early tease for the Mill Market. I’ve been roped into hosting an open house and wreath-making class.”

“Are you painting again?”

Of course Elaine would cut to her soft underbelly. She’d never managed the confidence about her art that Elaine and Riley had had. She’d loved it. Wanted to pursue it. But her family had never taken her art seriously. It was an expensive hobby, not a career option, and their lack of interest and support had held her back. But she was an adult now. She was responsible for her feelings and her actions.

A sneaky inspiration struck. “I’ll show some of my recent work if you’ll let me set up a display of your roosters. You don’t have to sell them if you don’t feel ready to part with them.”

“Nice try.” Elaine’s smile turned crafty. “Riley stopped by earlier this morning with Mr. Shi who wanted to look at the farm’s raised beds plan. He’s planning to build a vegetable garden on his grandson’s property. She told me about your plans for the Mill Market and how you’d done some renderings that are going to be on display and how getting you to agree was like pulling teeth.”

“Ugh. Riley. She takes being the early bird getting the worm to a whole new level,” Sophia grumped. It wasn’t even eight thirty. “But still your paintings would be a lovely addition. I’d love to have an art gallery in the Mill Market featuring a rotation of local artist work and a section for arts and crafts. It can be run by a co-op of artisans.

Elaine smiled. “I’ll think about it.”

Which wasn’t a no, Sophia thought as she drove away a few minutes later. And that was progress.

The cheek of Elaine trying to push her into declaring a mayoral candidacy. She’d always pushed her to be bold, to charge ahead, which made her holding on to her own paintings so strange. Elaine used to regularly show her work at a gallery in Ashland. She’d always have a booth at Art in the Park in Ashland every spring, and her students would earn community service hours or extra credit helping other artists build their booths or man the booths so the artists could have a break. And she’d always arranged a place for her students to exhibit.

So why was she so resistant now? Sophia was so into her head that she almost missed seeing Killian stalking around a fallow field. She slowed down. Was it him? Then she noticed his truck on a narrow track about thirty yards ahead. She turned off.

“What are you doing?” she asked, exiting her Jeep and standing on the side of the road, not wanting to risk her boots in the damp weeds and dirt. Suede was stylish, but not outside of town. Killian continued to stalk in a line, making sharp right corners. Then he paused and took a picture with a tablet he had. Dozens of orange and pink small flags on thin wires poked out of his back pocket. He bent down and stuck one in the earth.

“Killian?” She raised her voice—did she have her beat-up cowboy boots she wore when helping on her family’s farm in the back of her Jeep so she could walk out into the field?

“Oh. Hey.” He looked up and hit her with his devastating grin. Then he looked down at her feet and jogged over to her. “Still with the impractical footwear, Soph?”

She blushed. She had been rather silly in middle school and high school wearing sky-high heels and sandals and tottering around the school corridors hoping to look sophisticated and not like the ‘Gonzales brothers’ baby sister.’

“I wasn’t planning a walk in a field this morning,” she said with dignity. “What are you doing here?”

“Scouting. It’s clear today so I wanted to take in the views from this section of the land.” He waved. “Hunter bought this fifteen-acre parcel to be close to Lisa when she and her husband move here. She’d bought the white farmhouse with the barn that you can just see through the oaks over there. I thought with this access road, it might be nice to have the house here—easier for utilities.”

“But closer to the road.”

“Oak Hill Road doesn’t get too much traffic since Elaine True owns most of this stretch, just the occasional lost tourist or glamorously shod Bear Creek shop owner.”

“So, Hunter’s building a house and staying in Bear Creek.” Sophia was pleased for him and Harlow, but she didn’t want to read anything into it about Killian’s plans. “And you’re the architect?”

At least he had one client. She made a note to reach out and see if anyone else was thinking about a big remodel or a build—just as a friend—not hoping that Killian would realize he could have a satisfying career right here. He’d always wanted big and bold and larger than life.

“Yeah. I’m going to bring Harlow out here after school to see what she thinks—walk the perimeter of the house. I’ve fired off some questions and pictures to Hunter, but who knows when he’ll have the time to answer.”

“That sounds like a fun project for the two of you.”

He nodded, looked like he was about to speak and Sophia felt anticipation lick up her spine. Did he want her opinion? Did he want her to help?

He closed his mouth and jammed his hands in his pockets. If she didn’t know him better, she’d think he was shy.

“Spit it out, Killian.”

“You’re probably too busy to help.”

“Never too busy for friends.”

“Friends.” He looked at her, his green eyes dark and shuttered. “Yes. Of course.”

“On the subject of help,” she said slowly, feeling like she was taking a risk. “I was wondering if you and Harlow had some time maybe early Saturday morning to walk some of Zhang’s property and help collect some greenery for Sunday’s wreath-building class since you dragged me into it,” she teased, hoping she didn’t sound too invested. It wasn’t like she was asking him out on a date.

“That sounds great,” he said. His face and eyes lit back up, and for another moment—not the first since Killian Flanagan had come home—Sophia forgot how to swallow and how to breathe.

---