Page 5 of Dreaming of Dawson

“You think they’re trying?” Ryan asks, getting down some cups from the cabinet.

“I don’t know. Laurel hasn’t discussed it with me. But I guess now the adoption’s finalized, and Addy’s more settled, it’s possible. She wanted to have another baby with Mitch, so…” Her voice fades and I study them for a minute as she grates some cheese, Ryan picking at it and gazing down at her.

I’ve never met Addy, but I know she’s Laurel’s daughter. As for Mitch… All I know is he was Laurel’s first husband, and that whenever his name is mentioned, people seem to frown, just like Peony is now.

“How do you think Brady feels about it?” Ryan asks.

“Given how thrilled he is that Addy’s started calling him ‘Daddy’, I imagine he’s not averse to the idea,” she says.

“It’s real cute, isn’t it… the way the two of them have bonded so quickly?”

“It is. Fatherhood suits him well.”

She leans up and kisses him, probably to let him know that it suits him too, and he smiles down at her, going back to fixing the coffee.

Brady is another stranger to me. I know he’s the town sheriff, but I’ve had no cause to meet him yet, although I’ve heard a lot about him… and all of it has been good.

I’ve just finished my email when Ryan and Peony come back to the table. He’s carrying a tray on which they’ve set out a plate of sandwiches, and three cups of steaming coffee, and as we help ourselves, Peony pulls the laptop a little closer to her, opening the bookings app and nodding her head.

“It’s going well, isn’t it?” she says, with a smile on her face and I return the gesture.

“We’re really busy.”

“And we’re making money, too.” Her eyes are sparkling with excitement, and Ryan chuckles.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he says. “I never doubted your abilities as a businesswoman for one moment. You were meant to do this, although in some ways you haven’t changed a bit.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… you’re still wearing that sweater, even though it doesn’t fit, and you certainly look more at home here in the farmhouse than you ever would in an office. Although I don’t remember the last time I saw you on the tractor, riding around the orchard.”

“That’s because the orchard is Simeon’s domain now.”

“And doesn’t he just love his new title?” Ryan says, taking a bite of his sandwich. Peony and I copy him and she nods her head.

“I felt I had to make him the manager. I do practically nothing on the farm these days, other than admire his hard work.”

Ryan leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, and tilts his head, looking serious all of a sudden. “I know we haven’t talked about it much, but do you mind it being that way? Do you miss the life you had?”

“No,” she says, putting down her sandwich and reaching over to take his hand. “I love what I do, and I love the life we’ve made here.”

He smiles and lets out a sigh, like he was worried about her answer, which I think is cute. It shows he’s not taking things for granted.

He opens his mouth to reply when the sound of Rory crying splits the air, and Peony leans back in her seat, while Ryan leaps to his feet.

“I was hoping he’d wake up while I was here,” he says, rushing from the table and heading to the back of the house.

Peony gets up, too, going into the kitchen, where she fixes Rory’s bottle, using their baby formula dispenser. It’s a complicated-looking gadget, but she assures me it’s a godsend, especially in the middle of the night. By the time the formula is ready, Ryan’s back, with Rory cradled in his arms, and despite his suit, he looks every inch a happy father.

Peony hands him the bottle and he sits down, nestling Rory in the crook of his elbow, and I smile as his son gazes up at him and takes the teat between his lips, suckling for all he’s worth.

He may hardly have eaten anything himself, but Ryan doesn’t seem to care, and watches Rory feeding for a while before he looks up, focusing on Peony with such a loving smile, it’s enough to melt my heart.

“Eat your sandwich, baby. I get the feeling you’re not gonna get any peace this afternoon. He looks as bright as a button.”

“Don’t I know it,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“I shouldn’t be late home, so I’ll cook, if you like… or I can bath Rory, and put him to bed. Whichever you prefer.”

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