Page 40 of A Whisper of Summer Magic

Meghan chatted for a little while longer, sharing with him about the summer activities for kids at the YMCA and local parks and rec department. She also shared that her sister Chloe was an adjunct professor in vocal performance at the college.

“Sage is a perfect name considering you’re at a nursery,” Meghan said brightly, hoping to gauge the little girl’s personality. “We have an herb garden here. Do you like to garden? Does your new home have room for a garden?”

Sage looked up at her father, then continued to work.

“Sorry, she’s a little shy.”

“No need to apologize.”

“All our homes are new. We never stay long enough to make a garden.”

Sage paused in her work, and to Meghan’s horror, water—a tear—splatted on the page and then another. Great. She’d made the kid cry. Forster ‘call me Luke,’ placed his hands on Sage’s shoulders, subtly comforting her.

“New can be an adventure,” Meghan said so brightly she practically blinded herself. “My sister Sarah is a pediatrician in town, if you’re looking for a doctor, and ahhhh she loves gardening.”

Meghan wanted to crawl in a hole. First, she’d made the kid cry. Now she sounded like she thought the kid needed medical help. She was a disaster playing matchmaker.

“Enjoy your day and welcome to Belmont.” She shoved the jar at him.

“Oh, ahhhh, thank you, but we already received our gift, and, ahhh… Jessica, the owner, gave Sage a little heart-shaped sachet of dried lavender as it was her mother’s favorite scent.”

Was. Meghan winced—tragic news and good news. He didn’t take the special jar of jam, which had to be some sort of horrible sign, but Meghan had always bulled her way through life.

“Oh, more’s always better. This is special jam. Strawberry and blueberry.” She pushed it at him again.

She had zero rizz, but she was already plotting a redo, only with Sarah meeting Luke. He was a professor. That meant he was smart, and Sarah needed smart. And he had a daughter.

Damn, it was so frustrating not to know how the magic—if there was any—in theSouthern Love Spellsbook worked. What to do? Her mind raced. Should she take back the jam? Have Sarah make some with her? Deliver it to him? If she handed him the jam while picturing Sarah, would that do the trick?

But what if he gets weird about me because I made the jam?

Nah.

“It’s a heritage recipe for newcomers. My sister Sarah’s idea. She made it. She’s been researching our family tree—one of the earliest Irish settlers in the area.”

All true but shutting up now.

He looked a little stunned by her pushiness. Thank goodness Sarah couldn’t be pushy even if she had a gun to her head. She was calm, kind, elegance personified. An excellent partner for an intellectual man and a mother for a grieving little girl wanting a home and garden.

“Enjoy your day, you two,” Meghan said fleeing, leaving him with a jar of unwanted jam and a bad impression. But maybe that would work in Sarah’s favor. Maybe he’d bring Sage for a well-child checkup, fall madly in love with Sarah, because who wouldn’t?

She hurried back to the barn to recover and rethink her strategy as a sister matchmaker. If Luke and Sarah did fall in love, he’d need his contract to be renewed. Not out of reach. Their father sat on the college board, being the patriarch of one of the founding families. Maybe he could help extend Luke’s contract once he and Sarah were… ugh. She clunked her forehead down on the vintage roll-top desk. She was losing it.

“Still, all’s not lost,” she comforted herself. Luke and Sage would be an excellent match for Sarah.

*

“You’re still makingjam?” Sarah asked yawning hugely.

“Yeah. We had more people show up for the open house yesterday than Jessica imagined in her wildest dreams.”

“True,” Sarah said. “Put me to work.”

“I thought you were going to come last night after work.” Meghan handed Sarah the wooden masher so she could keep mashing the strawberries.

She needed her sister to participate in part of this process—probably. Ugh. Why hadn’t theSouthern Love Spellscome with instructions?

It was exciting but also daunting to have gone through so many of the small sample jars. She’d already ordered more from the vintage online farm supply store as well as hunted down other interesting bottles that would work for olives and olive oil—even though their trees wouldn’t supply olives for a few years. Jessica wanted to order the types of olives that they’d planted to get a jump-start on the market for infused olive oil and brined olives—so much for starting slow. She’d also pushed Meghan to wholesale purchase other fruits to expand their offerings until she’d had a chance to expand her planting so they’d still have the farm-to-table vibe Meghan had been shooting for.

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