Page 34 of No Bed Of Roses

Laughter filled the room. Paddy shook his head with a smile. “They don’t get it. Every crop has its own personality. Every piece of land, too.”

Relief swept through Levi. “Exactly. I was hoping to find someone here who understood that. I’m starting from scratch and don’t have my family’s wisdom behind me. I don’t have the generational knowledge of the land, the crops, and the climate. If I’m going to successfully grow hops, I need to know how the land reacts and what to expect from the weather. I’m hoping you all can tell me what it’s like to be a Vermont farmer.”

The three faces around the table lit up at his words. Mo rapped his knuckles again. “We’ve got lots of experience, and we’re willing to share. My farm was a variety of vegetables, with more than half the land growing potatoes. Paddy was split between hay and corn. Stan had the apple orchard out back. We’ve got all sorts of experience you can tap into.”

Paddy nodded. “Not too many want old geezer memories and opinions.”

Levi laughed. “I miss my old geezer network as much as I miss my family.”

Stan grinned. “Well, you’ve got a new old geezer crew now. Let the brainstorming commence.”

Isla didn’t think she’d helped even a little with the decorating or menu ideas for the Saloon, but she’d had a blast throughout the afternoon. Piper and Branna were smart and fun. They’d talked about everything from picture frames to flags to faucets. Chicken wings to pizza to margaritas.

Isla had zero knowledge of how to run a successful pub or saloon, but that hadn’t mattered. With Branna’s Irish background, she wanted some pub features while keeping the saloon vibe. “Everyone knows this place as The Saloon. I’d be nuts to change the name when it’s already marketing itself.”

Piper nodded. “You’d be fighting an uphill battle with that one. Troy says it’s been known as The Saloon for generations.”

That was fascinating. “I don’t think I ever paid attention to history before. Sciences were my thing, but knowing this place was an actual pioneer saloon is amazing.”

Branna nodded. “It is. I want to represent that history, but I also want to add things that represent the current town and its people. And I want some of my dad’s pub here, too.”

Isla felt the tug in her heart. Branna spoke of her dad with such love. He’d died tragically, and her mom had died in a drive-by shooting years before. Piper had lost her parents in a traffic accident.

She was the only one of the three with a surviving parent, but she hadn’t spoken to him in twelve years. The niggle that had been pestering her for the past year was growing stronger. It was time to reach out if she was brave enough.

She was a self-sufficient adult who needed nothing from him. But she wanted something. She wanted a connection and to know he cared. Did he? Even a little?

Isla doubted they’d ever have a shot at a relationship like the ones these women had enjoyed with their fathers. But if they could be cordial, she’d like that.

If she ever had kids, she wanted them to know their grandfather. It would be embarrassing to tell them she hadn’t matured enough to repair their relationship. And if she pictured a little boy with a dimple and a cowboy hat like his daddy, it couldn’t be helped.

Isla’s phone buzzed with a text from Levi, making her smile.

Branna laughed. “With that look on your face, there’s no doubt who that text is from.”

Piper grinned. “Must be a certain sexy farmer who walks with a cowboy swagger.”

Isla didn’t try to contain her own smile. “He’s got great swagger, and he’s on his way in.”

Sure enough, a knock had her turn to the door.

Sean’s whistle from where he was working on the balcony stopped her. “Make sure it’s Oz before you open the door.”

She nodded instead of rolling her eyes. These people were super protective. Not that she blamed them after hearing their stories. But there’d only been one incident with the ladder, and Isla was convinced that was aimed at a former owner. There was no reason for anyone to want her harm.

Branna called out through the door. “Levi?”

“It’s me.”

Her smile grew as she opened the door and found him standing on the front stoop out of the rain. Drops fell from the roof and from the brim of his cowboy hat. His lips kicked up at the corner, and his dimple popped out.

Unable to resist the cowboy swagger, Isla popped up on her toes and brought her lips to his in a soft kiss. “Hi.”

His hands moved to her waist and kept her from dropping back down. Then his mouth crushed hers in a kiss that was far from sweet.

When he pulled back, his eyes were dark. His voice rumbled through her. “Hi. Missed you.”

“Missed you, too.”

---