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“Any particular reason?” Izzy asked, still looking concerned.
“Just hormone stuff.” Which wasn’t a lie. Therewashormone stuff going on.
Indigo resumed knitting. “That’s lame,” she said. “Do you want me to cover your shift for you this afternoon?”
Beth shook her head. “It’s okay. I can manage. I’m going to Finn’s after I’ve finished anyway.” She frowned as a thought struck her. “Do you need a ride up to the farmhouse?”
“No, thank you.” Indigo finally put her knitting down. “I think I might walk back.”
“I can take you,” Izzy offered. “I’ve got Chase’s truck so I can pick Gus up from school in a couple of hours.”
Indigo paused a moment, as if thinking about it, but Beth didn’t miss the way she glanced out the windows that looked over the main street outside, as if she was looking for something.
Or someone.
“Uh,” she said, “thanks, Izzy, but I’ll pass.” In a sudden flurry of movement, she put her knitting in her project bag, slipped off the counter, slung the bag over her shoulder, and hurried to the door. “Gotta go. Bye.”
Beth and Izzy watched her rush out, both of them noting Levi standing outside HQ chatting with the Granges.
“Interesting,” Izzy murmured.
“Very interesting,” Beth agreed.
After Izzy finally left, Beth spent the afternoon setting up a display for some handmade quilts she’d sourced from Queenstown, looking at stock levels, and chatting with a few tourists who’d come out to Brightwater Valley to look around. Shirley, who often helped Bill out in the general store, came past and talked to her a bit about more craft things she was working on that the gallery might want to showcase, mainly some supercute soft toys and hand-knitted shawls.
Then Beth sat at the counter with her sketchbook, sketching out some new design ideas that she’d had, trying to keep her brain occupied and not worrying away at the situation she found herself in.
Which worked quite well until five o’clock came around and it was time to shut up shop and head to Finn’s. He’d knocked on the farmhouse door that morning to let her know he was taking a trek out for the day but he’d be home by five and that she should come around when the gallery closed.
After she’d finished closing-up duties, she went into the little bathroom for a last-minute fuss with her appearance, berating herself even as she did so for caring. Because as Finn had already told her, it wasn’t a date. Her appearance shouldn’t matter one iota.
Yet still she found herself fiddling with the bits of hair that had come down from the bun she’d put it in and wondering whether the pale green sundress she was wearing, that she’d bought in Queenstown a couple of weeks back, didn’t make her look a bit washed out.
In the end, sick of herself and her angsting, she left both her hair and her dress as is, left the gallery, got in Clint’s truck, and drove along the gravel road that headed past town. Chase lived about ten minutes away, up a winding gravel drive, and Finn’s house was just beyond that. They shared the same driveway, and as she drove past Chase’s place, Gus gave her a cheerful wave from their deck.
The deep, dark green and spicy dampness of the bush closed in around her as she got farther up the driveway before it suddenly opened out into the brilliant sunshine of late afternoon as she rounded a bend.
Finn’s house was built high on a flat bit of land on the side of the hill, overlooking Brightwater Lake. The house itself was wooden, with the same pitched roof as Clint’s farmhouse, but unlike the farmhouse Finn’s had an upper story. It was also surrounded by a wide, wooden, covered deck that had various chairs and sofas on it, plus a coffee table, as if sitting out there enjoying the sun and the view was something Finn and his guests did on a regular basis.
There was also, sitting near the edge of the flat area, overlooking the bush and the lake, an outdoor bath.
Hanging from the eaves of the awning covering the deck were wind sculptures made of metal and adorned with beads that glittered and twisted in the light breeze, while wind chimes made of bamboo made soft clacking sounds.
It was a welcoming place. Beth felt it immediately as she drove up onto the level gravel parking space beside the house and got out.
The sounds of the chimes and the whispering of the wind in the trees around the house, the warmth of the sun shining down, and the evening chorus of bellbirds, tui, and kereru from somewhere in the bush made her feel as if there was something settling in her soul—as if something that had been tight and fearful was relaxing.
There was peace here. Maybe that was fanciful, but she felt it all the same.
As soon as she closed the door of the truck, Karl came bounding out of the house and along the path toward her, tongue hanging out.
“Hey, boy,” she murmured as he approached, tail wagging frantically. “How are you enjoying living with Finn, hmm?” She gave him a scratch behind the ears, and he gave her a big doggy grin in return. “Does he tell you what to do too?”
Karl, unbothered by such disloyalty, licked her hand, then turned away and bounded back up the stairs to the deck, where a tall figure had appeared.
Finn.
He was in his usual jeans, but instead of a T-shirt, he had on a casual, soft-looking black cotton shirt. His feet were bare, and his black hair was damp as if he’d just had a shower, and he was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.
