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“I’m so sorry,” I murmured in response to Bree’s comment that Archer had lost his mother young.
“It’s been a long time,” Bree said. “But…you never get over the loss of your mother.” Something moved over her expression…a sort of distant sadness that made me think she must have lost her mother too and understood the pain.
I suddenly felt a sisterhood with her, the way I always did when I met a young woman who had also lived any of her young life without the solace of a mother. A wave of warmth washed through me. I was close with the other women who worked at the bar even though they were older than me, and of course, I had my uncles who were basically my best friends. But I hadn’t kept in close touch with the girls I’d gone to school with, and so I had few friends my age. Perhaps I hadn’t even realized how much I missed the feeling of friendship and conversation with other women I felt instantly comfortable with like Faith, and now, Bree and Haven.
Haven approached, a smile on her face as she sat down on the chair on the other side of me so that I was now between her and Bree. “Reminder about that hooch,” Haven told Bree. She leaned down and moved her baby boy’s hair off his forehead, breathing him in.
Bree brought the cup from her mouth and looked down into it, her brow furrowing as though she was perplexed about how it was so suddenly empty. She set it down on the ground next to her and glanced over at Cricket who was in the middle of a story, the small crowd around her practically doubled over with laughter. “That stuff is lethal,” she said.
I laughed. “So I’ve been told.”
“You’re smart to stay away from it entirely,” Bree said to Haven who was holding a water bottle.
“Actually…” Haven said.
Bree sucked in a breath, clamping her hand over her mouth for several seconds before dropping it. “You are? Oh my God.” She jumped up and leaned over Haven’s chair, hugging her and the baby as she let out a soft squeal. Haven laughed and shushed her as Bree stepped away.
Bree pressed her lips together and returned to her chair. “How far along?” she whispered.
“Three months or so.”
“Travis must be over the moon.”
Haven smiled, and it was filled with such open joy, it made my heart soar for her even though we’d only just met. “He is. We both are. Ryder and this baby are going to be close in age, but that’s what we both want. A big family.” She rested her hand on her stomach that I now could see was slightly rounded just below the strap of the baby carrier. “So, here we are.”
“Congratulations,” I said. “You have such a beautiful family. And this garden center is gorgeous. And peaceful and…” I sucked in a small breath, feeling suddenly overwhelmed with…something I didn’t know how to define, even to myself.
I’d have called it jealousy, but that didn’t seem quite right because I was happy for these genuinely kind people. I loved being around them and already wholeheartedly knew that they appreciated what they had.
“Thank you, Rory,” Haven said, reaching out her hand and squeezing mine lightly where it sat on the edge of the chair. “Tell us about your life in New York City. That’s where you’re from, right? I heard someone in town mention it.”
I sighed, playing with the fray of my jean shorts for a moment. I was suddenly so tired of lying. And I didn’t want to tell stories to these women, who had been so welcoming and had let me in on a secret that so far, only family knew about.
And it just suddenly didn’t seem important anymore. My plan was failing. Not only the one wherein I’d attempted to find out who my father was, but the one in which I didn’t fall in love with the man who’d only ever been meant to be a one-night fling.
Fail. Fail. Fail.
I let out a long sigh. “I have a confession.”
Both Haven and Bree leaned closer. “Go on,” Haven said.
Bree simply picked up my cup of hooch and offered it to me.
I laughed and then took a small sip. “I’m not really from New York. I’m not an art appraiser. And…my last name isn’t really Castle.”
Bree blinked, and Haven’s eyes widened.
I took the last sip of hooch, the liquid making my skin feel warm as it moved through my veins and then set it back down. I did appreciate the liquid courage at the moment, but I knew I’d reached my hooch limit. It took me about fifteen minutes to tell them everything from that darn pull, to my mom’s diary, to the drawing, and to the discovery of additional pieces of art at the antique shop.
“That’s why you asked me for recommendations on where to go,” Haven said.
I nodded.
“My God, this is a real-life mystery,” Bree said.
“Wait, where does Gage Buchanan factor into this?” Haven asked.
I fiddled with the hem of my shorts again.
