“I guess not,” he said with a sniff. “I came by to see how you were faring after your scare yesterday.”
I tried to give him a reassuring smile. “Fine, thank you. How was the reading circle this morning?”
His forehead crinkled for a second like he didn’t follow, but then he must have remembered how much I loved hearing about the kids’ reading time at the library. “It was… normal? The same as always, really.”
“Who volunteered today?” I asked, trying not to sound too eager. Reading to the children at the library was one of my favorite things to do, but Barney had taken me off the volunteer list a while ago, adamant that it would be “inappropriate” for his “special someone” to be involved in a library program like that. Maybe now that we were no longer together like that, I could get back on the rotation.
“Ellen Amana,” he said with a wave of his hand as if it wasn’t important.
It was. Ellen was the mayor’s wife, who did a horrible job reading to the kids. It was clear she hated it and only did it for appearances.
I bit my tongue to keep from saying so. Thankfully, Chaya broke in. “Mr. Balderson, do you happen to have a book on how to become a kick-ass horsewoman in forty-eight hours or less?”
Barney blinked at her like she was an alien being from a faraway planet. “I’m not sure that’s possible. Mastering the equestrian arts is a complex and nuanced endeavor. But I’m sure I have some picture books in the children’s section that could get you off to the right start,” he said, barely holding back a sniff of disapproval. “Not to mention several tomes about proper comportment for young ladies.”
Chaya’s nostrils widened in a silent laugh. “No need for that one, Mr. B. I’m good, thanks.” She glanced back at me. “You should really get going if you want to shower before your dinner date with Sam.”
I opened my mouth to remind her that the date was tomorrow night, and I wasn’t even sure it was a date, but she winked at me. “Just kidding. Maybe you could stick around and explain whether I’m supposed to inventory the bulk spices by weight or container.”
It was a ridiculous question because the Honeyed Lemon didn’t sell spices in bulk, but thankfully, Barney took it as his cue to leave but not before pulling me aside.
“Tell me you’re not having dinner with that man,” he said in a low voice as if he hadn’t found out about it from Chaya herself.
“I am having dinner with him.”
He looked truly shocked. “He’s a stranger. He’s a drifter.”
“He’s friends with Tiller and Mikey,” I corrected. “He’s in town for a few days to visit them on his way out to California.”
“You barely know those two either. Truman, really. Why this need to befriend everyone around you? It’s like you’re trying to prove something when you have nothing to prove. You’re fine just the way you are, sweet pea. There’s no need to make yourself into something you’re not.”
Was that what I was doing? I thought back to my interactions with Sam, Mikey, and Tiller. Had I been trying to be someone I wasn’t? I didn’t think so.
“They seem to like me as I am,” I began, a little unsure.
“Be that as it may, I think you’re better off letting me take you out for a nice dinner. We could go to that Chinese place you like.”
Before I could answer, Chaya called out another inane question about comparing ounces to grams and why did the basil, bay leaf, and caraway blend sound like a folk band name.
Barney cleared his throat to regain my attention. “Perhaps you’ll come see me at the library when you leave here so we can speak further?”
“Perhaps,” I said.
But I didn’t.
7
Sam
On the drive back to Rockley Lodge, I tried my best to feel regret over kissing Truman. It wasn’t fair to lead him on when I was simply passing through Aster Valley. He didn’t seem like the casual hookup kind of guy, and I was the king of casual connections.
But, god. Those full lips, that tight little body… the way his nose wrinkled when his glasses slipped down a little. The man was irresistible.
I’d noticed the broken gate again when pulling out of his driveway and had made a mental note to grab some supplies and come over early enough tomorrow to fix it before dinner. If Truman had people in town who didn’t like him, he needed better security than he had now.
I wondered idly how the security was at his shop. Mikey had pointed it out to me earlier on our drive through town. The Honeyed Lemon was in a two-story historic brick building on the end of a string of similar buildings that made up part of the main drag of the little town of Aster Valley. Several of them had been abandoned somewhere along the way, but many of them had newish, seemingly thriving boutiques and restaurants in them. It was nice to see the town doing fairly well even without the ski resort running.