Page 36 of Where the Music Grows

Aggie nods knowingly. “This town takes care of its own. And its visitors. We might be small, but folks look out for each other here.”

“I’ve noticed that. Everyone at the bar is so friendly. Even the ones who look like they could snap me in half.”

She laughs. “Oh, you mean Earl? Don’t let the tattoos fool you. He cried at his daughter’s dance recital last month. Couldn’t stop talking about it for days.”

I smile at that, trying to imagine the burly man with the handlebar mustache dabbing at his eyes. “It’s different from where I grew up. Everyone knew everyone there too, but it was...I don’t know. Less welcoming somehow.”

“Well, you’re welcome here as long as you want to stay.” Aggie starts unpacking more of the vegetables from Jinnie’s box. “These are beautiful. Katherine—that’s my sister, Jinnie’s mom—has always had the greenest thumb in the county.”

“They grow all this themselves?”

“Oh yes. They’ve got quite the setup. Five acres of gardens, an orchard, even a small greenhouse.” She holds up a perfectly formed tomato. “They’re practically self-sufficient. Grow their own food, make their own soap, candles, you name it.”

“Wow.” I’m genuinely impressed. “That’s incredible.”

“They’re good people. Quiet, keep to themselves mostly. They sell at the farmer’s market and do some trading with neighbors, but otherwise, they’re pretty content with their little slice of paradise.”

“And Jinnie helps with all that?”

Aggie gives me a knowing look. “Interested in my niece, are you?”

I feel heat creep up my neck. “Just making conversation.”

“Mm-hmm.” She doesn’t look convinced. “Jinnie helps when she can, but she’s got her hands full with the bakery. She’s always been a bit different from her parents—more social, always wanting to be where the action is. That’s why the bakery suits her so well.”

I nod, trying not to seem too eager for information. “She seems...nice.”

Aggie laughs. “You can drop the act, Jack. I see the way your eyes light up when you talk about her. Jinnie’s a special girl. Always has been. But she’s been through her share of heartache. She’s careful with who she lets in these days.”

I shift uncomfortably, feeling like I’ve been caught red-handed. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” Aggie interrupts with a warm smile. “Just tread lightly, that’s all I’m saying. She’s got a good heart, but it’s been bruised a few times. I’m not so old I don’t recognize young people flirting.”

“I get it,” I say quickly.

Aggie starts washing the vegetables in the sink, humming softly as she works. “You know, you two might actually be good for each other. She could use someone who understands what it’s like to chase a dream.”

I freeze, my stomach doing a weird flip at the idea. “I don’t think I’m the one to set an example. I certainly haven’t figured out how to chase any dreams.”

“Have you put together a setlist?” she asks.

I grin. “I never thought I would ever need a setlist. I was just winging it last week.”

I pull out my notebook that I left sitting on the counter and flip through the pages. “I’ve got a few originals I’ve been working on. Some covers too—stuff folks might recognize. I’m still figuring out what works best for the crowd.”

Aggie nods, her hands still busy with the vegetables. “That’s smart. Keep it varied, keep them interested. And don’t be afraid to try something new. Folks here are open-minded. They really like that song about your mom.”

“It’s not really about my mom. I mean, I guess a couple of lines are about her.”

“I bet you’ve got some songs about your mom in that notebook.”

“I do.”

“But you’re not ready to put those out to the public.”

I slowly shake my head. “No, ma’am. Not yet.”

She nods. “It makes you feel vulnerable.”