Page 48 of More Than My Hometown

I watch them go, wishing I knew what was going through his head. Taking a seat at the counter between Sawyer and Brenna, I let out a long exhale, trying not to think about it. Because if I know anything about Ewan, this is who he is—introverted and intensely private. Playing everything close to the vest is his specialty, carefully choosing who he lets in.

I am once again the lucky one he’s chosen.

“We’ve actually had the perfect amount of rain this spring,” Sawyer says, pulling my attention back to the conversation. “I mean it when I say it has been the perfect spring. Everything about this has been optimal, textbook even, leaving us with the exact right numbers across the board. Temperature, weather, moisture levels, all of it. It’s been really exciting.”

“I’m just glad there is someone else out there who finds it as exciting as Anton does,” Miss Belle coos.

“Because the rest of us are sick of hearing about it,” Willa adds on.

“But am I going to get peaches?” Dolly asks, looking over at Sawyer like a little girl who just asked Santa for a pony.

Beaming from ear to ear, Sawyer nods. “If this continues, you won’t be able to move for all the peaches. We’ll be giving them away or inventing new things to do with them.”

“Can ’em,” I tell her. “We can them when we have an overabundance. It’s a whole thing.”

“We all end up in Aunt Paula’s basement—that’s Maisey’s mama,” Dolly explains, her eyes going wide with excitement. “For a canning party. It’s messy as fuck, but so much fun.”

“And where you will be caught up on all the town’s gossip, courtesy of Hattie Burch,” Willa adds, grabbing a drink.

I groan, the thought of Aunt Hattie jabbering on like she has all the answers to the questions we never asked ruining the idea of a canning party before we even start. We’ve successfully avoided her since the wedding, but I know that won’t be the case for long. Especially once she gets wind of Ewan and me being back together. Or my agreeing to work with Landon.

“She came into the drug store the other day, telling me all about you patching up Kendall Farlow when she took a tumble in the middle school parking lot,” Brenna comments, nudging me.

“How does she even know that? She wasn’t there.”

I don’t know why I question this. Hickory Hills is a small town, and things get around. And Aunt Hattie has a way of making sure she is at the center of it all.

“You think something happened in this town and Hattie Burch doesn’t know about it?” Miss Belle gives me the softest side-eye that ever existed, spreading veggies out onto a plate on the island. “Maisey, I know you have been gone, but you should know better than that.”

Miss Belle has a point. I do know better.

“I’m surprised she isn’t blowing up your phone over you and Ewan. It’s not like you two have been quiet about it,” Dolly says, her emphasis on the word quiet clearly code for something I’m not picking up.

As is the waggle of her eyebrows.

I look to Sawyer and Brenna, hoping maybe they understand what is trying to be communicated, but neither of them seem to have even caught on to the code. Not helpful.

“She’s probably saving it for in person,” Margeaux adds. “Waiting until she can corner you in the produce section or something.”

“She didn’t…” I say, my disbelief barely scratching the surface. Because let’s face it, she did.

Margeaux turns around to face the group, a massive smile on her face. “To be fair, she wasn’t questioning me about Gus, because we were still a secret at the time, so she was trying to play matchmaker and set me up with Jake Wright. As I picked up bell peppers.”

“Is there a better time?” Brenna jokes.

I sigh, shaking my head, my insides feeling as light as champagne. It’s the same feeling I had the other day at lunch with these women, all of us instantly clicking, even though we’re vastly different individuals. Everything about this moment feels exactly as it should be.

Like family.

Just like when I was a teenager and came over for dinner, the warmth manages to surround you in a way that you know you’ll never forget. At the heart of it all is a simple meal, although it’s a lot more of a production now—with a lot more women in attendance—but the feel is the same. The love is still there. The laughter still flows. It’s still Dolly flitting around the kitchen making us all try different recipes she’s come up with—only now she has a partner in crime in Margeaux. Looking to my left and right at Sawyer and Brenna, I bet I’ve got partners in crime with them too if I want them.

“If she didn’t learn her lesson after Noel told her off, then she never will,” Willa remarks.

Err…come again?!

“Wait, Noel Keller told her off?” I choke out my question, whipping my head over to Willa for confirmation, not sure those are words I ever thought I’d say. She nods, smirking, her pride for her husband’s twin brother shining through.

“Oh, yes.” Miss Belle smiles, her own version of the devious Hayes smirk making an appearance. “I know it may seem like things are the same, but you missed some stuff while you were gone.”