Page 50 of Take Me to the Wedding

“That year Lilly and I moved to Milwaukee—we were very ill-equipped for real life. I couldn’t stop wondering if we would’ve made it if our situation was different.” The look on her face appeared to be pity. “But I’m not naive. I know that if I don’t take a chance and let people in, then I’ll never know. Love requires risk.”

She hit my sore spot, but I could put my finger on hers too.

She seemed to grow distant. Like if she were a teenager, this would be the part where she’d stopped listening. “Risk leads to pain, is all I’m saying. Just be careful, okay?”

“I’m more worried about you. You’re too young to give up on finding your person.”

We stared at each other a moment. I had this burning desire to know what made her sound like my own grandma instead of a person in the prime of their life, with all the hopes and dreams of love and life ahead.

She shrugged and looked out into the fields. “Not everyone needs a person.”

I wanted to say more, but then Marin suddenly emerged from the barn, gesturing for us to join her. “Come on, you people. Time to gather eggs.”

“Time to kill your breakfast,” I said with enthusiasm.

This time Sam burst out in a laugh. It was big and messy and spontaneous. Her whole face lit up. Her eyes too. It seemed to me that not many people knew how to coax a laugh out of her. I must say, I was pretty proud that I had. It was like unlocking a secret. And that was a sight to see.

As we headed in, I realized then that I’d completely forgotten to ask her about the matchmaking test.

ChapterFourteen

Samantha

Marin’s husband Brent, aka Farmer Brown, stood before all of us in the barn and said, “This morning we’re going to collect some fresh eggs, churn some butter, milk a cow, and pick some fresh herbs. Then we’ll go into the kitchen and stir up a delicious breakfast. Are you all ready?”

My stomach growled again—loudly, as I considered that breakfast appeared to be hours away. How long did it take to churn butter anyway? Thank God I’d at least had coffee, or I wouldn’t be able to function.

I stood in the background, near Mia and Brax, with the intention to stay as far from Caleb and Lilly as I could. Just as I was planning to walk off by myself to check out the chickens, Caleb fell into step beside me.

“Those little piggies back there sure were cute,” Caleb said, just to torment me.

“If Wilbur’s on the breakfast menu, I’m outta here,” I shot back. That made him snort with laughter.

“Oh, come on,” he said. “What’s a farm breakfast without ham and sausage?”

“Healthier,” I retorted. Why wasn’t he with Lilly?

“But not as much fun.” He let that sit. “Oh, that’s right. You’re not into fun.”

“That’s not what you said last night,” I reminded him.

He chuckled and rubbed his neck. “Okay, you’re right,” he said a little shyly. “Last nightwasfun.”

The tiny smile he sent my way sent my stomach aflutter. Only for a moment though, because Brent began to explain how to gather eggs. He walked us over to a row of chicken condos—that’s what I called them—wooden boxes on a platform, each with a grated window. According to him, you reached in and collected the eggs, right there for the taking. I couldn’t tell if most of the chickens had already flown the coop. Or if they remained, were they unfazed by egg gathering?

I raised my hand. “How do you know there aren’t—um—baby chickens in the eggs?”

“This part of our farm doesn’t have roosters,” he said. “But to make sure, we always candle every egg with a flashlight. If an egg is fertilized, you can see veins and a little chick embryo growing in there. Otherwise, it’s pretty clear.”

At the barn door, Lilly appeared, late, as I was coming to see was normal, but fresh-faced and perfectly dressed, her hair a golden halo of curls. “Sorry I’m late,” she said with a smile. She walked into the barn and joined us, looking photo-shoot ready in a cute sundress and full makeup. Beside me, Caleb’s gaze followed her as she joined the group.

On the other side of me, Mia whispered, “She’s done all that before coffee?”

I gave a little shrug. I’d never spent a lot of time getting ready, even before I entered medicine. With our training, all those nights on call where you had to show up and be on your toes at a moment’s notice, you learned to get no-frills presentable quick.

Lilly looked gorgeous, but then the woman would look gorgeous in a potato sack.

“Okay, kids,” Brent said. “Take one.” He handed everyone a basket. “We throw the feed on the ground so the chickens leave their nests. Just give them a gentle shoo if they don’t. Once they’re gone, take the eggs and put them in the basket. Then we’ll show you how to clean them, okay?”

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