Chapter 11

11

HARPER

A ll morning, I try to lose myself in the lovely quiet comfort that usually overtakes me when I'm immersed in my notes. Luckily, it's my turn to work at Corina's Coffee this morning, so I have a large table on which to spread out my books and supplies.

Like the extra space you'd have in the new apartment, if you decided to take it.

Yes, thank you, brain.

While I organize, sort, and color code our findings from the past few days, I'm constantly listening to the cheerful public conversations of the other customers.

Mountain people definitely discuss the weather more than any other group I've ever encountered. I guess it makes sense: apparently the weather is quite unpredictable here, because the rolling hills determine which way the wind will turn. One of the most popular topics of conversation is debating how often the local news station predicts the weather correctly compared to some of the old timers in town.

So far everyone swears that Gus Reeves is the champion, but he's also one of the most likable guys in town, so there's definitely some hometown bias there.

Which, it turns out, I absolutely adore . People around here love their town dearly in a way I've never experienced anywhere else. They're not gossiping to tear people down or make themselves look better. They're genuinely spreading the local news in case someone needs to know.

It's wholesome as heck. Is this really somewhere I could live?

Taking conversation notes on a pad to the right, I also draw lines on the chart directly in front of me with a ruler, adding coded stickers to some of the main conversation topics.

The rumor we quietly started on Sunday about a new burger franchise coming to town was dismissed as hogwash immediately. No one believed it for a second, because Old Hemlock Valley isn't big enough to sustain one of those, so as far as we could tell, nobody passed that along.

Then on Monday we were chatting brightly about an invasive weed seen in the forest nearby that looks a lot like garlic mustard, but with bright orange flowers. We loudly pretended to be reading it on Nikki's laptop, noting that these plants should be ripped out by the roots so they didn't spread. We haven't heard anyone else talking about it yet. Maybe people would need to see it with their own eyes before they bothered others about it.

But since Tuesday, I've definitely heard a few people mentioning Jonah and his new girl. And Jocelyn reported that yesterday she heard one person ask another if they knew anything about "Griffin's new girlfriend", and the other person shook their head no.

I can feel myself biting my lip as I look down at my meticulously arranged information, colored markers, and phone propped up on a stand so I can read the screen better.

Glancing to the side, a couple turn away quickly when I catch them checking out my table. I don't blame them for staring. It looks like I'm planning a heist. Or studying for exams. Definitely outsider behavior.

Instead of biting my fingernail, I sip my coffee. Then I sigh. Griffin needs a rugged woman who can survive up here. Not a nerd who is addicted to charts and color-coded stickers, and always has her nose buried in a book.

After the lunch rush is done, I pick up the girls and we drive back to the house to go over the day's findings.

"Still nothing about the burger franchise, or the invasive weeds," Jocelyn says, drumming her fingers on the dining room table.

"Someone mentioned Jonah," Nikki says, "but not his girlfriend."

"Yeah." I nod. "Eighty percent of the light conversation here is about the weather, and local tidbits like the library possibly changing its hours, or this week's surprise special at Jim's Pizza."

Jocelyn shrugs. "I guess these people are sensible enough to keep local chitchat as just that – polite local chitchat. They don't speak about personal things in public, and they don't spread things that aren't worth spreading."

From the very beginning, we agreed that if anyone was leaning in for a conversation, or speaking in hushed tones, we would stop listening and not take notes. We would only count conversations that seemed to be fair game for public consumption.

"Where do we go from here?" I asked. "The end of our first week, and I really don't think we have much to show for it."

"Really?" Jocelyn points to one of my charts. "We've learned a lot of new descriptions for rain." She reads from the list. "Barely a sprinkle, bit of rain, good for the back garden, and"…she can barely stifle a giggle…"right pissin' down."

We all laugh, then Nikki turns to me. "I've been researching the Dirty family. Did you know that they own a ton of land?"

"Griffin pointed out some of their land. Define a ton, please."

She pulls her laptop closer and opens a window. "All this here is Wolfe family land." She points to a survey of a huge area all around, with huge chunks of it shaded in red. "And here is the land belonging to the Dirty family."

My mouth falls open as I lean closer. That's…a lot . It almost looks as if some of the largest areas of land were purchased together in one big swath, then split between the two families.

My phone beeps, and I grab it before going to the kitchen to put on another pot of coffee to brew while I'm texting.

Griffin: Hey, gorgeous. I've been thinking about you all day, but especially when I ran into Gus, and he asked me about my new lady friend.

Griffin: I described you, and he thinks you sound, and I quote, like a very nice young lady. For the record, so do I.

Hmm. I'd like to think of myself as a nice person, but I'm also bookish, a bit delicate, and possibly not suited for rugged mountain life. Can't Griffin see that I'm probably a bad choice?

I can't shake the thought that he's been wishing for a woman so badly that he's desperate to scoop up the first girl that happened to come his way.

A girl who happens to be a completely unsuitable, overly-organized city girl bookworm, who has unfortunately already fallen under the spell of his deep voice, his sweet words, and the way he whispers so passionately in her ear when he's holding her.

A girl who only has a few days to decide if she's going to stay here or sign a three-year lease on an apartment that is a full day's drive away.