1. Lyra

1

LYRA

T he cool earth felt damp beneath my fingers as I carefully loosened the soil around the roots of the basil plant I'd been thinning for better aeration. Its herby, sweet scent filled the air, and I couldn't help but smile.

I'd forgotten how much I loved working a garden.

Even my owl felt content here. While normally the sky called to her, something about this little plot of land soothed her soul, too.

Lifting my gaze, I skimmed the cabin, each garden bed, and the woods surrounding everything. This place had always felt like a sanctuary to me. I loved that it was tucked away from the world and hidden so deeply within the woods. There was nothing but peace here.

It was so different from the city.

"There you go," I whispered to the basil plant before placing it in its new hole to live in. "Now you'll have more space to yourself."

A throaty chuckle came from behind me.

"Are you talking to those plants again?" Granny teased from somewhere behind me.

I glanced in her direction. She stood on the porch, staring at me.

"Maybe I am," I said, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face and flashing her a grin. "They say it helps them grow."

"Good thing you're the one doing the talking, then," she quipped. "Because if it were up to me, they'd all wither from sheer boredom. You've got plenty more to say than I do."

My smile faded. "I guess I do."

Failing at life gives you plenty to reflect on and talk about.

It was hard to grasp how drastically my world had shifted in the past few months. I'd been living in the city, working at a nonprofit—doing work that truly mattered to me—surrounded by people who shared my values and loving life. Until the nonprofit decided to downsize.

Everything I'd built for myself seemed to vanish overnight.

My job. My savings. My apartment. I'd put in countless job applications, but nothing came through. My savings dried up as a result, and I'd had no choice but to come back to Crescent Creek and live with Granny.

It was sort of a win-win, though.

Granny's health wasn't what it once was. At ninety-two, getting around had become more difficult, and moving her from her beloved cabin in the woods to a nursing home wasn't an option. She needed help managing the small herbal remedy business she ran online, and I needed a place to stay. Out of all the places I could go, this was the perfect fit.

At least, that was what I kept telling myself.

It was different from the life I'd imagined for myself, but I was slowly accepting that.

"Chin up, buttercup," Granny said. "Things will get better soon. Change helps us grow, and you, my dear, have been dealt a whole lot of change lately. Good things are coming for you. I can feel it."

Her words soothed my fragile heart like a healing balm.

I loved this woman. She always knew what to say to make me feel better, and her words never failed to make me smile.

"Thanks."

Granny winked and gave me a slight nod. "Are you coming inside for lunch?"

"Soon. I want to finish this section," I replied, sinking my fingers back into the soil. "But if you're making sandwiches again, I'll need a bigger bribe to take a break."

"Bribe? How about I don't tell the plants you curse them the second you walk away and we call it even?" she shot back.

"Deal." I laughed.

While I had been complaining about the state of the garden beds a lot lately, it was only because I felt overwhelmed by the amount of work that was needed to get them back in order.

This city-girl-for-the-past-three-years was no longer used to the work.

Taming the ten oversized garden beds scattered around the yard would take me forever on my own. Granny insisted they were fine as they were, claiming she could still identify the herbs among the tangle of weeds, but I couldn't work with that. I needed order, structure, and organization.

I needed garden beds that didn't resemble jungles.

After finishing thinning out the patch of basil plants, I stood and brushed the dirt from my knees. My gaze swept over the garden bed, and a frown pulled at my lips. Despite my effort, I'd barely made a dent in the overgrowth.

"Honestly, Mother Earth, I think you're winning this battle," I muttered before heading to the porch.

The truth was, I was stretched thin.

Managing everything here mostly on my own, given Granny's health and her limited mobility—not to mention her stubbornness—I was learning there weren't enough hours in the day. While I didn't mind the work, I knew I couldn't handle it all myself.

Which was why I'd decided to hire help.

The thought made me anxious. I wasn't used to relying on others for things. Call me independent, or a control freak, but I had issues trusting others to do things the way I wanted them done.

Always had.

As I stepped inside, I made my way to the kitchen where Granny stood, setting our sandwiches on a plate.

I glanced at my watch and frowned. "Well, I hoped the landscaping guy would be by early this morning to look at the garden beds and see if he was up for helping with them," I said. "Brody from the hardware store mentioned he was reliable, but I'm starting to doubt him."

"Maybe he's busy." Granny shrugged. "Brody, on the other hand? He's a bit of a flirt." She grinned.

I chuckled. "You would know about flirting, wouldn't you?"

Even though Brody was closer to my age than hers, I knew Granny could be a handful sometimes. Honestly, I wouldn't have put it past her to be the one flirting out of the two of them while she was in the hardware store buying birdseed.

"Of course, it's how I got your grandfather to marry me," she said, her grin growing.

"Good to know the secret to a lasting marriage is shameless flirting," I joked, though my thoughts were already drifting back to the landscaper I'd been expecting.

While I'd been hesitant to hire someone to help, the truth was a part of me was worried he'd show up, take one look at the place, and run for the hills because everything was so overgrown. The other part of me hoped he was half as competent as Brody made him out to be.

If so, it might be possible to get ahead.

I followed Granny into the little dining room. She set the plate of sandwiches on the table she'd already set and then reached for the pitcher of hibiscus tea and poured me a glass.

"I'll make soup tomorrow since you're so sick of my sandwiches," she said, eyeing me.

She was a cantankerous old woman, I'd give her that.

"I was only joking about the sandwiches," I said. "I love your sandwiches."

"Sure you do." She pursed her lips.

While we ate, I kept checking my watch, wondering if this guy would ever show.

"Keeping tabs on the time won't make him appear," Granny called me out. "Would it really matter if he showed up or not? Like I've said, the garden beds are fine. I knew exactly where everything is."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes and sigh, knowing she would reprehend me for it. "I never said you didn't. All I said is getting them back into a manageable order would be nice. It would make things a lot smoother around here."

"I can tell a weed from an herb, can't you?" she asked directly. "Paying someone to tame the beds isn't necessary."

I didn't respond. There was no point. The woman would argue with me until she was blue in the face about it. I knew how to pick my battles with her.

After finishing lunch, I helped her with the dishes and then made my way back to the bed I'd been working in previously.

"Please let this guy show up," I whispered to the thyme, as if it could somehow make him appear. "Let him be as reliable and knowledgeable as Brody claimed he was."

The sound of a vehicle approaching hit my ears, and I stood to see who it was. Wiping the dirt from my hands onto my jeans, I noticed an old, somewhat battered, truck coming down the driveway. My gaze zeroed in on the windshield, trying to get a look at the driver. The guy looked far too confident behind the wheel, with a mischievous glint in his eyes that immediately put me on guard.

He was nothing like I'd pictured.

First off, he was too young. I imagined the guy Brody mentioned would be older than me, not around the same age. Salt and pepper hair, kind eyes, and a few wrinkles around his eyes from squinting in the sun often was what I'd pictured. What I got was a young blond guy with a smirk that said he was trouble and a handsome face.

As the truck came to a stop, a twinge of anxiety spiraled through me. The driver's side door creaked open and the guy behind the wheel stepped out. He was tall and completely relaxed, like he didn't have a care in the world.

My owl stirred at his sudden nearness, a strange sensation that made me feel even more unsettled.

He glanced around, soaking in the place before finally turning his eyes to me. Something passed across his face, but it was gone before I could decipher what it was.

"Morning," he said.

"Morning," I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral. As he got closer, my owl stirred yet again. What was wrong with her? I'd never felt her so alert before around someone we'd just met. Was that a good sign or a bad one? "Did you have trouble finding the place? Sometimes Brody doesn't give the best directions."

His head cocked to the side, as though he hadn't been expecting the question. "Nope, no trouble at all."

If he hadn't had any trouble finding the place, then why was he here so late?

"Oh. I figured that was why you weren't here earlier this morning to check out the garden beds and see if you could help tame them." I wasn't sure why I was being so rude, but I was. Turning away from him, I pulled in a deep breath to calm myself and then gestured to the beds. "See for yourself."

"Yikes," he said, stepping to my side. I caught a whiff of his cologne and couldn't deny how good the man smelled.

What was it about a good-smelling cologne that made a man ten times hotter? Not that this man needed any help in that department—he was attractive as could be.

"Name's Waylen, by the way." He extended a hand.

My hands were dirty and a bit clammy from working in the garden.

"Lyra," I said, opting to fold my arms across my chest instead of shaking his hand.

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Dirt doesn't bother me. I would have shaken your hand," he said, leaning in.

I managed a tight-lipped smile, still unsure what to make of him. When he placed his hands on his hips and turned to look at the garden beds again, he released a low whistle under his breath.

"Yeah, this place is definitely in need of something," he said.

I couldn't tell if he was impressed or overwhelmed.

"It's home, and it's beautiful," I replied, a bit defensively. "It's just in need of someone to tame it."

"Good thing I like a challenge." He shifted to glance at me and grinned.

I wasn't sure whether to be relieved that he seemed to have accepted the challenge or anxious. There was one thing I knew for sure, though—I'd have to keep a close eye on him. I couldn't afford any more uncertainty in my life, and I wasn't about to let this handsome stranger disrupt what little balance I'd carved out amid it all.

As Waylen walked past me to get a closer look at the nearest garden bed, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope spark to life within me—despite my reservations about him. There was a chance Brody was still right about him being a perfect fit for this job.

A small chance, but a chance all the same.