Page 4 of All Inn Thyme
“You look lost in thought.” Allie looks over at me.
“Sorry, just trying to figure out some things with my greenhouse plans.”
“Ooohh, like what?”
Allie’s brother Evan is who I would consider my best friend in Freedom Valley, but Allie and Beth have become my close friends, too. There’s no mistaking her and Evan for siblings, they look so much alike, with dark hair and the brightest emerald green eyes. Allie’s encouraged me with my gardening dreams, and sometimes she gets so excited for me that I forget that they’re my dreams and not hers. I’m lucky to have a friend who has become like a sister to me, especially one who our sons have become inseparable too, acting like best friends almost immediately.
“I’ve been trying to get my greenhouse together so I can do more seed startings. I just got more seeds in, and I’m excited to get them going. I was counting on the greenhouse space. I need to get everything growing now so that I have plenty to sell at the farmers’ market all summer and fall.”
I work on my garden plans when I’m not doing my housekeeping duties, so my time is very limited. Not having the greenhouse finished has set me back, but I don’t want to tell her that. It’s my problem, not theirs. Allie, Evan, and everyone else at the inn have their own stuff going on.
The farmers’ market started as a result of me wanting to give back to the community here in Freedom Valley and bring positive attention to the inn. This past year was a rough time for the inn, and Evan almost lost it due to the bank threatening to foreclose. But we brought back the fall festival tradition and made enough money to turn the inn around and save it. Without Beth’s help with all of that, I don’t know if we’d still be here right now. We’re trying to integrate the inn into the community as much as we can. There’s a spot on the back of the property where we host the fall festival that I dreamed of using for a farmers’ market. I thought it would be a good way to bring in more vendors, customers, and the community. It’s been coming together, and I can’t wait to host the first one as soon as everything is ready.
“I can’t wait to see your farmers’ market come together. Oh, and before I forget, I baked you a loaf of sourdough with roasted garlic and rosemary from your garden herbs. It’s still warm.” Allie motions to her purse sitting on a chair in the corner of the room, a foil wrapped package next to it.
“Thank you.” My mouth waters at the thought of her bread. “I’ll never turn down your sourdough. It’s the best.”
Allie’s baking is on another level. I’ve never tasted such delicious breads and pastries, and her passion for baking is like mine for gardening. Watching her do what she loves every day has inspired me and given me permission to pursue what I love. Allie’s success isn’t surprising, though, because she is one of the most persistent people I know. She began her bakery business out of the kitchen here at the inn and has now been able to open a new location here in town called Baked Inn Love—another extension and nod to the Golden Gable Inn that’s been in her family for generations. She’s planning on moving the business there within the next few weeks.
We move up in the line and I make plates for both Kase and me. By the time I get Kase set up next to Caleb at the kids’ table, there’s only one seat left at the big table. Right next to Ty.
Great.
I’m nervous as I move toward him, but a small part of me is excited. I want to have grown-up conversations and make friends.Friends, I tell myself. It’s okay to have friends. Nothing more.
I remind myself that he’s just a guest here, having dinner like the rest of us. I slide in next to him with a small, hesitant smile, and he smiles back but continues talking to Logan. Even so, his body shifts to the side to include me in his conversation at the table and I feel a little bit giddy that he wants me to sit there. I catch him look over every so often and smile when he catches my eye. I can’t even help it. Ugh. I’m ridiculous. What is this, high school?
Logan leans forward to get my attention through the buzz of noise at the table. “I picked up some of that deer netting you were asking about that we can put around the garden area. I left it in the barn for whenever you need it.”
“Thanks, that’s going to help so much. There’s always a ton of deer back there and I can’t have them eating up all my vegetables.”
“It’s a hundred-foot roll, so that should do it. It’s heavy, so when you’re ready, Pete or I can help you get it set up.” He forks a bite of his pasta and sits back in his chair as he shoves it into his mouth. “This is so good.”
“Yeah, it really is good,” I say, looking over to Sasha and smiling. “Thanks for dinner, Sash.”
Sasha beams at us from across the table. “My pleasure, love. When are you going to be bringing me my bountiful produce to cook with?”
“Hopefully here in a few weeks you’ll have more produce than you’ll know what to do with. Forget the grocery store. I’ll have you covered with organic fresh-grown goods right from my own two hands.”
I accidentally graze Ty’s hand with mine as we both reach for a piece of garlic bread. My hand zings where it touched his and my heart flutters with unexpected excitement. Ty seems unfazed by the contact and casually asks, “So, how did you get into gardening?”
Now my heart races with panic. The truth is right on the tip of my tongue, but not something I feel comfortable sharing. I swallow and finally pull it together enough to reply with not the whole truth but at least part of it.
“I started playing around with the herb garden last year and I really enjoyed it. So, this year I decided to take a part of the back property that already had a few garden plots cleared and turn them into full gardens. I’m growing vegetables for the inn and starting my own locally grown farmers’ market. You know, something to bring the Freedom Valley community together.”
He nods. “That’s really cool. My momma gardened a lot, I used to love helping her.”
“Your momma sounds like a good southern woman,” I hedge, hoping I’m right in my accent assessment.
He pauses, then gives me the side eye and says with a chuckle, “Who says she’s southern?”
“Isn’t she?” I ask, playing it cool. “Pretty sure I’m detecting a hint of a southern accent.” Now I give him the side eye with a smile.
“I guess it takes one to know one,” he says with a sly grin.
My heart is pounding in my chest with panic washing over me.Shit. Shit. Shit.
I quickly recover and say, “Why do you say that?”
