Just Say Maybe: A Thistle Bend Novel (14 page)

“Deal.” Bryce typed in his name and number, and returned the phone to Lindsey.

“I’d also like to introduce you to my boyfriend, Carden, sometime.” Lindsey got all starry-eyed.

The manure guy?

She smiled. “You two seem to be a lot alike.”

Bryce had no idea what to say to that.

“Since you’re new in town, maybe you and Carden could go grab a beer sometime,” she said. “Just like you, I came to Thistle Bend alone. Thank goodness I met Holly. She was the first friend I made here, and the best one by far. Maybe you and Carden will hit it off, too.”

Bryce’s stomach growled. He smoothed his hand down the front of his long-sleeved T-shirt and shook his head. “I knew I should’ve had a cinnamon roll while I was hanging out at Calypso Coffee.”

“Best cinnamon rolls in the Rockies,” Lindsey said. “Know why?”

He shook his head. “No clue.”

“It’s the Montgomery sisters’ recipe.” Clearly Lindsey was a fan.

The woman from the front desk came around the corner, stopping short when she saw him and Lindsey. “Excuse me,” she said. “Lindsey, Mrs. Crenshaw is on line two for you.”

Lindsey nodded. “Thanks, Darlene.”

“You bet.” Darlene hurried off as quickly as she’d arrived.

“Mrs. Crenshaw is Carden’s grandmother. Thistle Bend royalty,” Lindsey said in another conspiratorial whisper. “Board member, big donor, potential in-law. Gotta run.”

“One more question, now that you’ve got my stomach growling.” Bryce flattened his hand over his abs. “Where can I get a killer sandwich for lunch?”

Holly kneeled in her grandpa’s garden, planting the last row of pea seedlings, the soil rich with a loamy scent. The day was perfect for gardening—lower seventies, with clouds drifting in front of the sun at steady intervals, lending welcome shade. Her grandpa worked in a section across the garden, where the spinach would sprout soon.

Fortunately, yesterday’s hail hadn’t done too much damage to the seedlings they had already planted. Each year, they phased in the garden to reduce the risk of losing too many plants to a late frost. But hail was equally unpredictable and destructive. Turquoise Lake was only a short hike from the farm, and her grandpa said the ground had been covered with cotton-ball-sized hail, just as Holly and Bryce had seen there. Despite the threat, most of the plants had perked up this morning, and her grandpa seemed relieved. She’d been pleased to find him more upbeat than she’d expected, considering what Dean had said at Pie in the Sky yesterday about him and the lodge situation.

“Been on his mind 24/7 ever since Carden brought that manure over and finally got you to admit which property Mr. Bennett is buying.”

Even so, there was an undertone between them of unspoken business that needed to be addressed.

Feeling lighthearted after Bryce’s visit this morning, Holly had headed to the farm, hoping to address the lodge issue—
the Bryce issue
—with her grandpa first thing. Yet he’d already been busy in the garden when she’d arrived, checking for hail damage, and determined to get the planting done in case a storm cropped up and cut their working hours short. He’d taken a break to give her a warm hug and kindly instructions, but then he’d quickly gotten back to getting the garlic seedlings in the ground.

That left Holly to worry the rest of the morning about how the conversation might go. With lunchtime nearing, her stomach growled, but her nerves would keep her from eating until things were resolved between them.

She carefully planted the last pea seedling, smiling at the memory of her grandma reading her “
The Princess and the Pea,”
Holly’s favorite bedtime story when she was little. As a child, she had spent nearly every Saturday night at the farm. Her dad had always told her that the sleepovers would give her grandparents special “Holly time.” Looking back, she suspected that having a weekly date night with her mom was also one of his motives. Regardless, he’d never had to convince her to go. She had looked forward to being spoiled on Saturday nights, and to her grandma reading “
The Princess and the Pea
” over and over again. Holly had saved the tattered storybook and tucked it away in the cedar chest her mom and dad had left behind when they moved. Her stomach knotted at the thought of them.

I have to talk to them about the lodge, too.

Holly picked up her spade, the seedling trays, and the bucket of wood ash that she’d used as a soil additive. She headed to the greenhouse, filled a huge watering can, and returned to the rows of pea seedlings, watering each of them with care.

In the near distance, gravel crunched beneath tires. She turned to see who was coming, but the house blocked her view of the long driveway. She squeezed her eyes closed for a second.

Please don’t be Dean.

She and her grandpa needed to have their talk alone. Despite Dean’s concern for her grandpa, he was likely to be full of chatter about meeting Bryce, his conversation with her and Bryce yesterday at Pie in the Sky, and his wish that they had razed the lodge when they had a chance. Holly winced, imagining how Bryce must have felt after Dean said that to him. Even if Dean didn’t mention the lodge, Holly did not want company right now. She wanted to get things squared away with her grandpa—just the two of them.

Rushing to devise a new plan of action, she watered the last seedling, and caught her grandpa staring curiously toward the house as a large shadow appeared from around the corner and a man stepped into her view. Despite the shade of her grandmother’s wide-brimmed hat, Holly squinted against the sun, pretty certain she was looking at Carden. But…

Her heart leapt into her throat. Clearly her grandpa was staring at a stranger, but Holly certainly was not.

Bryce.

Struggling to appear calmer than she felt, she made her way over to him as quickly as she could, eager to reach him before her grandpa did. “Hi there,” she said, coming to a stop and standing several feet in front of him. “What a surprise.”

And what an understatement. Any other time she would’ve been super-excited to see him, but Bryce showing up here could only make things more complicated. Holly liked a motivated man, but right now Bryce bordered on being too ballsy. He had said he’d like to meet her grandpa sometime, but neither of them had mentioned anything about
today.

“I was in the neighborhood so I thought I’d stop by,” he said with an adorable grin. He wore the same clothes he’d had on this morning when they’d sat on the swing and talked—jeans, hiking boots, and a dark gray long-sleeved T-shirt that gave his green eyes a silver hue.

Her grandpa joined them in the shade of the house, a pleasant look on his weathered face, and a glint of suspicion in his eyes.

Holly swallowed hard and tipped her head toward Bryce. “Grandpa, this is Bryce Bennett.”

The guy who’s buying the lodge. And the man I’m falling for…

Bryce held a large paper bag in his left hand, and shook her grandpa’s hand with his right. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Birdsong.”

“What brings you by today?” her grandpa asked, his tone even.

Holly tensed. He hadn’t invited Bryce to call him Fred, something he’d done without fail every time he’d been introduced to someone in her presence.

“Holly said you two would be busy planting all morning. I figured you’d be ready for lunch right about now.” Bryce lifted the paper bag. “Someone told me that sandwiches from On the Slice are the best in town. And that you like chicken salad.” He set his gaze on Holly then shifted it to her grandpa. “And your favorite is pastrami on rye.”

“You’ve been talking to Lindsey.” Her grandpa brightened as he did over anything having to do with her. He’d unofficially adopted Lindsey as his second granddaughter shortly after she’d arrived in Thistle Bend and become friendly with Holly.

A little of the tension went out of Holly’s shoulders.

“I stopped in to have a look around the museum earlier,” Bryce said. “I’m trying to learn more about Thistle Bend’s history, and that place makes it fun and easy.”

Holly knew very well that his experience learning the town’s history lessons prior to him visiting the museum had been completely opposite. She guessed he’d gone to see what he could find out about Warner Montgomery III, but asking him would be skipping way too far ahead for her grandpa to understand. “Lindsey and her staff have done an excellent job with the museum.” Her grandpa smiled and jingled the change in the pocket of his overalls.

Bryce nodded. “I’ll second that. And she nudged me in the right direction for lunch.”

“Nice of you to bring it,” her grandpa said, his tone a little lighter. “Let’s go wash up and eat it while it’s fresh.”

They walked across the lawn and toward the greenhouse.

At her grandpa’s side, Bryce shaded his eyes and gazed up at the glimmering glass structure. “This greenhouse is something,” he said.

Holly was used to seeing it, yet she had to agree. It was half the size of her grandpa’s rambling ranch house—maybe more. And it had all the best gardening gadgets and gizmos. The only one she’d ever seen to rival it was at Milly and Merri Montgomery’s place when she’d gone there with Lindsey to visit.

They went inside the greenhouse, where the humid air smelled like spring. Bryce looked around wide-eyed as they stepped over to the large countertop and sink.

“Ladies first,” her grandpa said, gesturing for Holly to take her turn washing her hands.

“I’ve never been in a greenhouse this huge or well equipped,” Bryce said to her grandpa. “Looks like you have everything you need to get an early start on your garden every year.”

Her grandpa nodded, a glimmer of pride in his eyes. “Here in Thistle Bend we have high altitude, arid climate, extreme winters, short summers, and variable rain and snowfall. Leaves us about sixty-two days frost-free, and that’s not near enough time to grow some of my vegetables and fruits. With the greenhouse, I can extend the growing season and reduce some of my risk.”

Holly couldn’t believe how easily Bryce had gotten her grandpa to gush about gardening—a subject he could dwell on for days. He might not talk about anything else while Bryce was here, and that could turn out to be a good thing.

She stepped away from the sink, and her grandpa gestured for Bryce to go next. Holly took the lunch bag from him and he started washing his hands.

“This running water is a huge plus,” he said.

“That was a must-have. And we’ve also got an automatic watering system.” Her grandpa pointed to some of the pipes and tubes running along the rows.

Holly’s heart hitched at the way he’d said “we,” as if he meant himself and her grandma, himself and Holly, or maybe even the whole Birdsong family. Whichever way he’d meant it, she loved the sentiment.

“Very cool.” Bryce dried his hands with a paper towel, and came to Holly’s side.

“Saved the best for last,” Holly said as her grandpa went to the sink and started the water flowing. She was eager to make it clear that there was room in her heart for three men—her grandpa, her dad, and…

Bryce?

She’d reserved that spot for
the one,
and she was starting to think it might be him.

Bryce walked over and checked out the potting benches and growing trays, leaning in to get a closer look at the seedlings and read the labels. “This setup is top-notch. I had no idea you could grow some of this stuff with the conditions here—like watermelons, tomatoes, and corn.”

Holly’s grandpa tossed his paper towel in the trash. “Wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t built this place. Those plants couldn’t grow outside this environment, and I still have to baby some of them. I try to give them the best chance by using the heartiest seeds.” He stepped over to a metal cabinet and Bryce and Holly followed. Opening the door, he revealed a grid of cubicles, similar to a wine rack. “After the growing season, I’ll let some of my most vigorous plants go to seed. Then I’ll collect the seeds, dry them, and store them in these white paper envelopes.” He pulled an envelope from one of the cubicles and handed it to Bryce. “The labels show the type of plant, the variety, and the harvest date. I might use them the next season, or swap them.” He looked sternly at the envelope. “But I’m picky about who I’ll swap with.”

Holly was heartened by the interaction between the two of them. Bryce appeared genuinely interested as he studied the label on the envelope and shook it. Seeds rattled inside. “Sweet—future red peppers. I love ’em roasted.” He handed the envelope back to Holly’s grandpa, who filed it back in its cube.

They left the greenhouse and walked across the lawn to the paver patio behind the house. Holly set the bag on the wrought-iron table for four, shaded by a bright blue umbrella. She stole a wide-eyed glance at Bryce, and he gave her an I’ve-got-this wink that made her worry about what might be coming. He and her grandpa sat down while she doled out the lunch Bryce had brought—sandwiches, dill pickle spears, Jackson’s Honest purple heirloom potato chips, and bottled tea. She pulled out the last item in the bag. “Look, Grandpa, caramel-ripple brownies.”

He cast a sidelong look at Bryce and smoothed his hand down the front of his overalls. “I’ve never said no to a caramel-ripple brownie.”

Bryce grinned. “Can’t say that I blame you.”

Holly sat next to her grandpa, leaving him in the middle of her and Bryce. She wondered if she could possibly eat. Was there any room for food with all the butterflies in her stomach?

Caramel-ripple brownies…

They’d all have to find a way to squeeze in.

“What kind of sandwich did you get?” Holly asked Bryce.

“I went with the pastrami on rye.” He nodded. “Sounded pretty tasty.”

“Good choice,” her grandpa said.

Holly grinned.

They ate in silence for a moment, Holly enjoying the savory tarragon chicken salad on fresh homemade bread.

Bryce set his sandwich on the wrapper and took a swig of his tea. “Mr. Birdsong, I—”

“Call me Fred,” her grandfather said.

Holly chewed faster. Things were looking up.

“Yes, sir.” Bryce nodded once. “I imagine you’re aware that I’m buying the Lodge at Wild Rose Ridge.”

Holly nearly choked on her chicken salad. Her grandpa put down his sandwich and set his intense gaze on Bryce.

“Before I put in an offer,” Bryce said, “I did some research on the lodge and found out that things didn’t go well in Thistle Bend before, during, and some time after it was in business. I own a lodge in Costa Rica that’s been a real success, so I know how to run a hospitality business. I’m eager to put that knowledge to work here, to renovate the lodge…and its former reputation. My goal is to make it a positive asset for the area, where good things happen, where people enjoy working, where at-risk teens can come to an adventure sports camp—free. I’ve hosted one in Costa Rica every summer since I’ve owned the lodge.” He shrugged his sturdy shoulders. “It’s what saved me from spending even more time in juvie when I was a cocky teenager, and staying involved in adventure sports probably kept me out of jail later on.”

Holly stared at him, her heart thrumming. He hosted a free adventure sports camp for at-risk teens?

Bryce sucked in a deep breath that lifted his pecs, and blew it out with a hiss. “All that being said, I’ve recently read years’ worth of Thistle Bend newspapers to learn more details about the history of the lodge. And Holly has shared your family’s story with me.”

Her grandpa pressed his lips together tightly, the crease between his eyebrows growing deeper. Holly couldn’t tell if he was angry, upset, or disappointed. Maybe some of each. Perhaps something else entirely.