“I don’t care what those judges say,” Lee said. “I’m hosting tasting competitions all over the state, and people pick Home Sweet Home every time. And that’s what counts, right? The people drinking it.”
“This is all happening exactly the way Beau planned it,” Dottie said, beaming at them, tears in her eyes.
It couldn’t be. There was absolutely no way Beau Buchanan could have had any idea how all of this would play out, but there was joy in her eyes as she said it.
Then a man raced by them, concealed from head to toe in a beer bottle suit, branded with Buchanan Brewery and Home Sweet Home, to a series of shouts and shrieks and laughter, and from the shape of him, he knew it was Harry. This was the “not illegal” challenge.
Blue gasped beside him, and they started laughing at the same time, trying to cover their mouths so they could avoid giving away that they knew exactly who was in that suit. Their hands were intertwined the way they almost always were when they were together, and he pulled her closer, clasping his hands over her heart.
“Yes,” Dottie said, “if Beau could see us here, he’d say it all worked out perfectly.”
Although Lee had never met Beau, he’d seen plenty of pictures and heard enough stories from Dottie to fill a book. And he had a sudden image of the white-haired man in the horn-rimmed glasses, with the firm mouth that came from the Buchanans and the mischief in his eyes that came from Dottie, looking down at them with their mother, only their mom was the way she’d been before the illness, with long blond hair and Adalia’s eyes. And he thought maybe they’d like what they saw.
He knew he did.