Page 33 of Lucky Haven

The advantage of ordering the special is that the food arrives quickly, so the conversation gets shelved. Haven slides her notebook and pen back into her purse, and I change the subject to learning more about my new girlfriend, starting with her time at school.

“How did you like Edmonton?”

“It was nice. Different than here, of course. But I needed a change, and Calgary would have been too close. Also, if I hadn’t moved to Edmonton and found a job there, I don’t know if I’d have stuck it out for my Masters degree, and I wouldn’t have become a librarian, and I wouldn’t have moved home, so…”

“It’s a full circle thing.” I nod. “I feel the same way, you know. About jail.”

She gasps. “Don’t joke.”

“Oh, I joke about it all the time. And I don’t want you to think it’s off-limits. It’s a part of my life.” I nudge her knee with mine under the table, which is easy to do because I’m a big guy who takes up too much space. Which I don’t see as a problem at all right now, because it gives me all the excuses in the world to touch her casually, endlessly. “Just like the church is a part of your life.”

“Was a part of my life,” she corrects.

“I wondered. You don’t go to services on Sunday.”

“No.”

But I can’t help but notice that a small gold cross pendant still glints at the base of her neck. “Do you miss it?”

She looks surprised at the question. “New Harvest? No.” She takes a few bites of food, then sets her fork down. “But I do miss having a congregation of my own.”

“Did you go to church in Edmonton?”

“Yes.” No elaboration.

I want to get her to share more, but I don’t want to push too far. This is just the start of a summer of getting to know each other better, so that can wait. “I liked the prison chaplain a lot. Same with the padre in the army. Not big on the organized part of religion, but a nice minister is a nice minister.”

She smiles in a way that makes her cheeks round and her eyes sparkle. “Emphasis on nice.”

“Or kind.”

“Even better.”

“Kind spiritual leaders,” I say, ticking my finger. “Another thing in common. And how are you liking the meatloaf?”

She laughs out loud, and it lights up her entire face. “The meatloaf is great.”

“I like it, too. What is that, a dozen things we have in common now?”

“Slight overstatement.”

“Only slight. We can come here for breakfast and find out we also both like eggs.”

She laughs out loud. “Everyone eats eggs.”

“Truly not. Some people don’t like the texture. Some people prefer flax seed and chickpea water.”

“What?” She goggles at me.

“Oh, Haven, have I got stories for you.” As we continue eating, I tell her about some of the more out there vegan recipes my mother has tried over the years. Not because we’re vegetarian—that would be weird, for beef ranchers—but because she’s in that kind of a hippie-adjacent community, and she has vegan friends. “And sometimes I think she does it just to fuck with us.”

“Well she is the only woman in your family. She’s outnumbered, and outsized. Although I suppose Hope and Bellamy are bringing some balance to that now.”

“We went from only one bossy woman to two and a tiny, demanding tyrant on the ranch in the blink of an eye.” Which brings us back to the topic of the upcoming secret wedding. “Speaking of which, I was hoping—” I lower my voice. “I don’t know what to get them for a wedding gift. Do you have any ideas?”

“What does Zane like? Is Hope similar to him, or are they opposites?”

“That’s just the thing…I don’t exactly know. I’m so busy with the garage that I only get out to the ranch a couple of times a week, and there are always things to do. It’s not like I’ve sat down and had a long conversation with Hope.”