Page 43 of Your Heart & Mine

Continuing through the bustle, Harper spotted Elizabeth surrounded by some of the artists and craftspeople displaying their wares. Anne Wyatt, the manager of a local art gallery, joined the mix and Harper rushed to speak with her.

"Anne,' she called joining the group. "Thank you again for all your help in recruiting people to participate in the market." She smiled at the others of the group. "Y'all are making the event really something special."

"Harp, come see these gorgeous quilts Mrs. Whitmore made," Elizabeth said enthusiastically, pulling her to a nearby booth. "Aren't they incredible?"

Harper admired the intricate patterns and hand-stitching on each one-of-a-kind piece. She never would have expected her prickly, exceptionally modern sister to gush over a handmade quilt.

They chatted happily with Mrs. Whitmore for a while before moving on and sampling apples from Cold Creek Orchard and pumpkin butter from one of the local Mennonite homesteads. Harper found herself reminiscing about dragging Wyck to the Saturday markets when they were younger and the price she had to pay later for his indulging her. Her lips tipped up at the memory of those 'prices'.

"I'm sorry, what?" Harper snapped out of her woolgathering when she realized Elizabeth was talking to her.

"I said, we should see if the local schools want to get involved," Elizabeth suggested. "Maybe they could sell crafts or treats as a fundraiser."

Harper's eyes lit up. "That's perfect! What a great opportunity for the kids." Her mind whirled with more ways to build on the market's success. This was exactly the kind of grassroots initiative she hoped her foundation could continue to foster.

The morning sped by in a blur of sights, sounds and tastes. Before Harper knew it, the booths were packing up for the day. Beaming vendors reported stellar sales. The opening day was a resounding success.

Harper stayed late helping clean the area, buoyed by the community camaraderie. She couldn't wait to get home and put her feet up after the long but rewarding day.

Pulling into the driveway of her soon to be renovated home, Harper spotted a familiar figure sitting on the front steps. Her pulse quickened. What was Wyck doing here? They hadn't spoken since the pleasant, but awkward, dinner they'd had a couple of weeks ago.

She got out of her car cautiously. "Hey there. This is a surprise."

Wyck stood, raking a hand through his dark hair. His sea glass eyes looked uncertain. "Hey. I hope it's okay…me stopping by." He gestured awkwardly at a bouquet of tulips in his hand. "These are for you. Sort of a congratulations on a successful market day."

"Oh Wyck, you didn't have to..." Harper felt suddenly shy. He'd remembered that tulips were her favorite flower. Her heart gave a little leap. She led the way inside, hyperaware of his broad frame filling the oversized front doors. "They're beautiful, thank you."

"Sounds like the whole event went great today," Wyck said, following her to the kitchen. He leaned against the farmhouse table. "I had hoped I'd run into you there actually but there was a snafu I had to take care of at the last minute and I didn't make it. Wanted to check in, see how you're doing."

Harper busied herself putting the flowers in water. "Things are going well. Busy, but in a good way." She snuck a glance at him over her shoulder. "How about you?"

"Can't complain. Staying busy with some new projects. Davis has learned to use e-fax and now I spend half my day reviewing paperwork." Wyck rubbed his neck, searching for words. "But mainly I just wanted to see you, Harper. Feels like we've both gotten wrapped up the last few weeks."

He looked at her earnestly. "I know I've said it before, but I'm still so grateful you've allowed me back into your life at all." Pain flickered in his sea glass eyes. "Leaving you the way I did was unforgivable and then not telling you what I was involved in, well, that was a dick move. But I meant it when I said I'll spend forever trying to make amends."

Harper felt her reservations melting under his heartfelt words. She had to admit to herself that she frequently passed by his construction sites, hoping for a glimpse of his strong, tanned arms carrying a piece of wood or a hand tool. Flushing at the thought, she crossed the room and slipped her hands into his larger, callused ones. "You're not the only one who made mistakes, Wyck. What matters is we're both trying now."

Wyck lifted her hands to his lips. "You have the biggest heart of anyone I've ever known." His voice grew husky with emotion. "I might scare you by saying it but…I still love you, Harper Carrington. Deeply." He studied their clasped hands. "I understand if you don't feel the same anymore..."

Harper reached up to gently cup his stubbled jaw. "I do still care about you, Wyck. Probably more than I want to admit." She gave a wavering smile. "My head is still cautious, but my heart - my heart never stopped loving you either."

Chapter thirty-four

Chances

JoyfloodedWyck'sfaceat her admission. Ever so slowly, Wyck lowered his head, giving Harper time to pull away if she chose. When she didn't, he captured her lips in a tender kiss. Harper melted into him, the awkward tension of recent weeks dissolving.

As the kiss deepened, she opened for him with a sigh. Wyck's tongue found hers, slowly at first, then more demanding. One large hand slid up to cradle Harper's head while the other pressed firmly into the small of her back, molding her soft curves against the hard planes of his muscular body.

Harper speared her fingers through his dark waves, anchoring him to her. The kiss obliterated everything except this moment. When Wyck nibbled at her full lower lip, then soothed it with his tongue, Harper trembled, heat building.

Sliding both hands into her hair, Wyck dislodged the clip holding it loosely in place. When her honey-blonde tresses tumbled around her shoulders in waves, he tunneled his fingers through the silken strands, angling her head to kiss her more thoroughly.

Breathless, Harper clung to his broad shoulders, the hard muscles beneath her palms evidence of the physical work he did every day. She pressed closer, trying to eliminate any last sliver of space between them.

At last, Harper broke the kiss, both of them panting. Wyck rested his forehead against hers, their breath continuing to mingle. His heart thundered under her palm against his chest.

"I've missed you so much, Harper," he rasped, traced his thumb over her kiss-swollen lower lip.

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