Page 23 of Love, Untangled

Her soft smile slid from her face, replaced with a concerned frown. “Still working that hard? But don’t you have all the trees pruned? Is there an issue with the irrigation?”

“There aren’t any problems. I just need to stay busy.”

Even he could hear the defensiveness in his voice, but he refused to acknowledge it, to even look at Hattie. If he didn’t work to exhaustion, his mind latched onto Penelope. Even in the dark of deep night, Penelope warmed him with her sunshine. He didn’t know how he felt about that.

Well, he did. Uncomfortable. Antsy. Hopeful.

Like he had when he’d first met Cora, and he didn’t want those feelings—never again. He’d had his love. She was gone. Penelope wasn’t for him.

“That’s not healthy, and you know it,” Hattie exclaimed.

“How else am I going to get enough apples in this harvest to start making Cora’s cider?”

Hattie’s expression morphed into one of disapproval then slid into empathy, maybe even pity, before she managed to shift her face back to neutrality. “Well, it’s a lovely day today so I thought we could walk along the boardwalk. It’ll do my creaky old hips some good.”

Carlo’s shoulders relaxed, trying to ease his defensive posture. “Still stiff, then?” he asked, throwing out the peace offering.

She waved her hand, and Carlo noted the swelling in her knuckles. Age had set in a little more over the past year.

A deep, uncomfortable pang reverberated through his chest. He didn’t want to lose Hattie. She was like a second mother to him—closer than he was currently to his own. “I’ll grab the drinks. You want an herbal tea?”

She gestured toward the small carrying case that held four different to-go cups. “Oh, don’t you worry yourself. I’ve already purchased them because I’m tired of you always paying. That’s not how this relationship works, young man.” Hattie wagged her finger in front of his face.

“It should be,” Carlo said. “I invited you to coffee and—”

“And nothing.” Hattie laughed. “Save those dollars for a date, Carlo.”

He grimaced. And not because his mind flicked toward Penelope and her pretty smile. No, he didn’t think of Penelope as soon as Hattie said date. “Not gonna happen.”

She sighed, her expression both filled with tenderness and with annoyance—much like his mother used to look at him when he was misbehaving. Once again he tensed, preparing for an argument or a guilt trip, but Hattie just shook her head. “Ah, my dear, you deserve all the good things.”

“I had them.”

She cleared her throat. “Well, now it’s my turn to buy our drinks.”

“Once a month,” Carlo said.

She chuckled. “All right. Once a month. Starting today. I wanted to try something with a bit more zip. It being such a lovely day and all. Here’s yours.”

She pulled the cup from the container and pressed it into his hand. He noted the C A on the side. He frowned, wondering about the initials, but Hattie had begun her stroll down the wood-planked boards, so he strode forward to catch up.

“You’ve been helping out Penelope, right? Didn’t I see her at your house last week?” Hattie took a sip of her drink and smacked her lips.

“Yeah. Alpaca Man’s very friendly. Too friendly. He likes to find me in the orchard and hang out.”

Carlo refused to add that he’d come to enjoy talking to the animal, and he spent time petting Alpaca Man before returning to Pen’s place with a loaf of freshly-baked bread. Hattie didn’t need to know that. Just like she didn’t need to know that Carlo had been dreaming about Penelope Davis every night this week. And that he woke up in the morning looking forward to the day ahead, knowing she’d be in it.

Or that he looked forward to seeing her smile, the way her eyes lit up when she laughed. How focused she became when she was deep in her art, something he’d noted when he came over to fix the barn door a few days ago—but hadn’t had the heart to follow through on once he noted how docilely Alpaca Man followed both him and Pen around.

The alpaca reminded Carlo more and more of Champ with each passing interaction. And the desire for that type of connection with another being grew with each interaction too.

But that was because Carlo missed having a pet. Not because he wanted to spend more time with Pen and Alpaca Man.

He cleared his throat, thankful Hattie couldn’t read his thoughts and hadn’t cataloged how much time Carlo was spending at the Davis farm. She would think there was more to their relationship than simple friendship. She might get the wrong idea and think Pen and he had great chemistry.

They could. Maybe. If Carlo was interested in a relationship. Which he wasn’t because he was still mourning Cora and would be for the foreseeable future.

“Young Penelope made quite the impression at book club.”

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