Chapter 17

seventeen

LUKE

“Just—hold on! I’m going, I’m going.” Her voice squeaks out in a nervous rush.

“Good girl,” I murmur as Ella brushes past me. My shoulders shake with laughter as red blossoms across her cheeks. She’s double-timing it across the road to make it to the truck before I can.

I’m oddly disappointed that I didn’t get the chance to toss her over my shoulder and carry her. Before I can focus too long on that mental picture, I close the distance between us and swing the passenger door open.

“Madame.”

“Please stop being weird,” she mumbles as she scurries into her seat.

I can’t explain how much I enjoy this flustered version of Ella. It’s a nice distraction, but there’s also an air of familiarity I’ve missed. Both reasons are why I can’t hide my grin while I round the front of the truck.

“You know,” I reply, stepping up and sliding into my seat. “Evenings are usually when deer are the most active. It’s not unheard of for them to be running out in the road during the day, but you might want to keep your eyes open.”

When she doesn’t immediately respond with a retort, I glance over at her. She’s trying to jam her seatbelt into the buckle and failing. Repeatedly.

“I can’t seem to get it,” she mutters.

“Can I?” My voice rumbles out of me as I lean toward her, observing the way her hands are shaking.

She barely nods and I’m in her space, trying to not drown in the vanilla scent clinging to her. I tug the shoulder strap closer to me so I can extend and fasten it easier. Once it clicks, I yank it tight across her hips and release the shoulder strap.

And then I look up to make sure she’s okay.

It’s like something sucked all the air out of the cab of this truck. Her face is inches from mine, wisps of blonde hair framing her face. It’s oddly comforting that I can still see a sheen of freckles beneath her makeup.

My Ella is still here, no matter how much time has passed.

She’s not mine, though. Never has been.

But that’s not what my heart is saying.

Mine.

“Thanks,” she breathes.

“Safety first.”

It’s like we’re playing a game of chicken with each other, but I don’t know what the rules are. Who’s going to pull away first? Is this where we finally kiss? Are we supposed to make each other laugh? I need the protocol.

A truck horn blazes as it passes us and tears me out of the staring contest we’re locked in. I wave, then lean back to my side and shift the truck into drive. The moment shatters, and I’m simultaneously disappointed and relieved.

“There’s an extra water bottle there in the cupholder.” I nod as I pull away from the shoulder. “And there’s a blanket, here—” I reach over the console and grab a fuzzy blanket I keep in the back for Lucy.

“Thanks.” She clutches the blanket, her eyes downcast.

There’s a myriad of questions I want to ask. No one told me that Ella would be the one to plan this wedding, or that she was back here. When she showed up on the heels of a rough morning, I wasn’t as gracious as she deserved.

Maybe I can fix that now.

“We can stop by the doctor and make sure you’re okay if you’d like.”

She shakes her head. “You should stop fussing over me.”

“Fussing is what I do best these days, I’m afraid. Please drink.” I tip my head toward the water.

She yanks the bottle from the cupholder with a ferocity I wasn’t expecting and twists the top off. I caution another look in her direction, drinking in her details for as long as it’s safe while I’m driving.

“I’m tired of being handled,” she snaps.

Exhaustion clings to all her edges.

When was the last time she took a break?

Now that I know she’s a wedding planner, I can’t imagine how busy she stays on wedding days. The only experience I have to base my thoughts on is from my own chaotic wedding, and it wasn’t at all what I’d want if I ever did it again.

Too many people in one place.

“I’m not trying to handle you, Ella. I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

She’s quiet for a long moment. On the side of the road back there, all I could see was the version of Ella that hid in our pumpkins on her last day here. Someone who’d only asked for very little, when all she did was give. It’s unsettling to think that all this time later, she’s still giving.

“I’m sorry that I snapped.” She takes a deep drink of water. “ Thank you for stopping. And for this.” She motions to the water bottle and the blanket. “I’m not used to being fussed over.”

“That should change.”

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, but it doesn’t make them any less true. Or something I regret saying to her.

“My job entails a lot of responsibility and it’s usually easier for me to do it myself than ask someone else to do it. Weddings live and die by a schedule and I won’t let a wedding day fall apart because I relied too much on someone else.”

“Maybe you’re relying on the wrong people then.”

Her stare heats my skin. “You always did a lot on your own at the farm.”

“I still do,” I reply honestly. “But I’ve learned that I can’t do it all myself. It takes a whole group of us to make sure that everything keeps running like it should.”

And I’ve got a daughter to raise, I add silently.

“We have a team,” she says. “But we have specific roles. I more or less oversee them all.”

It’s a lot of responsibility. I don’t know to what capacity because I don’t know the first thing about what she does.

Before she left, all I wanted to give her was what she always deserved.

“What will you do when this wedding is over, Ella?”

“It depends.”

“On what?” I ask.

“On whether it’s successful.”

“Who determines that?”

“Charlotte,” she replies. “I know what she expects, and I’m not exactly off to a great start.”

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to slide the pieces into place .

Even as kids, I was sensitive to Ella’s moods and mannerisms. It didn’t take much to know when something was amiss with her stepmother because she was usually such a walking ray of sunshine. Between her and Gaby, sunglasses were practically a necessity.

It wasn’t just the dress on the night of the Midnight in the Hollow dance. It was the birthday party reservations that were mysteriously cancelled. Shopping trips that excluded Ella while she worked at the coffeehouse to shop at the thrift store. Shoving her away in the attic so she could pretend it was just her and her two daughters.

Ella was always an afterthought.

Sure, she spun it as positives.

But she deserved better then, and she deserves better now.

“Were you really headed to town when you had your wildlife encounter?”

“Yes.” She shrugs. “But then I decided I wanted to see home.”

I have things I need to do. But one glance at Ella tells me it can all wait. Cautiously, I pull a u-turn and head back toward our farms.

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

She lays her hand on my forearm and it takes all my focus to not swerve off the road at her touch.

“It can wait, Luke.”

“No.” I grip the steering wheel so tight I’m white-knuckling it. “You’ve waited long enough.”

My failed marriage gave me a tiny glimpse of Ella’s existence. My experience doesn’t hold a candle to what she went through, but I know what it’s like to feel second best. Like every choice is the wrong one, no matter how hard I worked to make the right ones.

“Does someone live there now?” she asks .

I shake my head. “It’s been empty since you left.”

There’s no need to tell her how often I watched for her to come home. The people I asked to find out where she might’ve gone.

“Tell me about your family.” She fidgets with the blanket.

“Gaby doesn’t give you a full rundown every time you talk?”

“Maybe I want to hear it from you.” She’s picking white dog hairs off the fabric, one by one.

“Those are Bruno’s. Sorry.”

Her eyes lift to mine. “Who’s Bruno?”

“He’s a mini-dachshund that coerced my daughter into a loving home on our farm.” I chuckle and loosen the grip on the wheel. “We’ve got several dogs and his mama had a fairly big litter. Lucy couldn’t let Bruno go.”

“So she got you to add Pumpkin and then Bruno?” She smiles. “Sounds like she’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

She’s got no idea.

“Lucy has a soft spot for animals. Bruno was a little guy, and she was afraid no one would want him. I knew exactly what she was doing, but we all thoroughly enjoyed how hard she tried to convince us all that he belonged here. The final straw was that he looks like a cow. And cows belong on a farm. So naturally, Bruno belonged with us.”

Ella tips her head back and laughs; a familiar sound that wraps comfort around me like a cloak.

“I can’t wait to meet her. She’s a girl after my heart.”

That’s all I need. Two of them hoarding animals on the farm.

Before I can think on that too much, the turn for Ella’s farm appears. I swing into the dirt drive, noting how well cared for the property still is. I’ve got no idea who actually owns it.

She looks out the window, her hands braced on the door .

I don’t want to rush her, but I get out of my side to give her a moment alone if she needs it. My gaze sweeps the land, memories popping up in frequency and unbidden. Once Ella’s dad remarried, Ella spent a lot more time on our farm.

But prior to that, we shared time between the two pieces of land. I always acted like I hated it, but some of my favorite times over here were listening to her parents tell stories. Every year we’d cut our Jack-o’-lanterns in their yard around a campfire while they regaled us with wild narratives.

They’d be disappointed, I think. Not in Ella. But with the way people let her down.

My family did all they could, but whatever happened the last night she was here was beyond anything we could fix. Someday I hope she can tell me the whole story.

There’s a thud as a truck door closes and I notice Ella standing in the drive, arms crossed as the wind whips her sundress around.

I walk over to her, my boot heels dragging in the dirt.

“It’s still here,” she replies. “I was afraid…”

Without hesitation, I hook a finger around hers, drawing a hand away from where she’s clutching her arm. There’s a beat where I wonder if that feeling is one-sided. Then she changes her positioning to link her fingers through mine.

The jolt that passes through our connection rivals the time Sam dared me to touch the electric cattle fence. Maybe not as strong, because it doesn’t knock me flat on my back. But it catches me just as off guard.

I’ve never known someone I can be away from for long periods of time and pick up like no time passed at all. There’s no one I’ve spent a long amount of time away from, except Ella. But that’s exactly how it feels: like we spent yesterday afternoon in my pumpkin patch and today we’re on her parents’ farm .

The awkwardness I expected to feel doesn’t exist. Instead, she feels like home. Like we belong here, together, at exactly this moment. Even thinking about it makes me question my sanity a little, so I’m not about to say that out loud to her. I’ll just hold her hand for now, to let her know that I’m here.

Whatever ghosts she’s staring down are ghosts I’d bust with her. Ectoplasm and all.

“Did you know it’s the Diamond Jubilee for Harvest Enchantment? Seventy-five years of your hocus pocus.”

She chuckles beside me. “I actually didn’t realize that. Seventy-five years is a lot of history. What does Gran have to say about it?”

“She’s raring to go. I got a lecture right after you left, actually.”

“Go Gran.” She squeezes my hand and peers up at me. Some of the stress I sensed from her in the truck has slid away and she reminds me more of the girl I used to know.

“I’m sorry for the less than stellar reception I gave you.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I caught you off guard and you deserved a better heads up.”

“When I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong, okay? I’m not trying to add to your workload.”

“And neither am I,” she says. “So what specifically was she lecturing you about?”

I don’t want to delve into all the details. Especially the ones where Gran tried to set us up. Casual handholding to a lifetime with someone is a serious jump.

Is casual handholding a thing?

“Gran says we need to talk,” I say instead.

“About?”

“The wedding. The festival. The town.”

Her thumb is tracing the outline of mine, leaving a wake of sparks behind .

“Well. You are being pretty contrary about the whole thing.”`

I shoot her a sideways look. “Ella. You know my middle name doesn’t even start with C.”

“I asked for the initial and you wouldn’t tell me.” She shrugs. “You get c-words to describe how cranky you are until you give it to me. We’re up to three now. Gaby got me a word of the day calendar, so my vocabulary is getting pretty extensive. I’m quite the logophile.”

“That’s not a word.” I chuckle.

“It means lover of words.”

That’s not an actual thing, is it?

“Ella, I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

“Sounds like she should get you one, too.”

“You’re just messing with me. You know what my middle name is.” I’d give her a clue, but I’m kind of enjoying this strange game she’s playing.

“Guess you won’t know until you tell me.” Her smile only confirms my theory.

“Still maddening as ever.” I grumble.

“What’s that?”

That was supposed to be an inside thought. Things we probably shouldn’t say out loud. But it’s too late. I’m out of sorts, and it’s all this woman’s fault.

“I said,” I raise my voice. “You’re still maddening.”

“When was I ever maddening?” She turns so she can look at me straight on.

Always.

I’ve never known someone as oblivious to how amazing they are as Ella is.

Maybe it’s where we’re standing, memories slicking over my skin like dew in the early morning. Or the way both sets of parents always breathed positive words into us. But the urge to remind her of her worth only strengthens.

“Would you like a list?”

Her eyes go wide. “A list?”

“You’re maddening when you think what you want isn’t important.” I tighten my grip on our joined hands. “When you downplay what you’re good at. Or when you won’t admit that you’re sad. Or hurt.”

With a gentle tug from me, she takes another step closer.

“Is that all?” she whispers.

I shake my head. “Mmm mmmm. This dress.”

“You don’t like my dress?”

I love her dress. The longer she stands here in it, the crazier it makes me. It’s hard to forget that she just got here, and we aren’t the same people we used to be. We need time to get to know those people.

But that magnetic pull I remember from years ago is still here, reminding me that while we may have changed, my feelings haven’t.

Wild.

“October is days away, Ella. Summer is over.”

“It’s still eighty-five here, and it’s my favorite dress. I wanted to wear it a little longer.” A smile flits around her lips.

“When you over-explain yourself.” I add with a chuckle. “I was teasing. Wear whatever you want.”

Her cheeks color for what feels like the tenth time today. “Oh.”

“You should?—”

“Luke Jackson, I thought that was your truck!”

Saved by the singer. I almost told Ella she was beautiful.

We turn to face Holly, but I’m not ready to let go of her hand. She must feel the same because her grip tightens on mine .

“Everyone is at the farm. I’ll be there in a minute.” I say.

“I’m Holly Everheart,” she says, walking right up to us like she didn’t hear a word I said. “Friend of the family. Nice to meet you.” She extends a hand out to Ella in what looks like a friendly greeting, but I can tell she’s sizing Ella up.

“Ella Taylor.” She reaches out with the hand I’m not holding to shake Holly’s. “I’m actually here to plan your wedding.”

“Oh my gosh! I didn’t know you were already here.” All pretenses drop away as she flings her arms around Ella in a giant hug. “I’m so excited you’re here. Charlotte said you were just the person for the job.”

That name is the equivalent of having one of my siblings dump a bucket of ice water over my head. Whatever moment Ella and I slid into needs to go to the back burner. She’s here to work. And then… leave?

We haven’t had time to get to the nitty-gritty details of her stay here. I let my emotions steamroll right over that conversation.

“I actually grew up here,” Ella says, casting a quick glance around at the farm when Holly steps back. “So that makes me pretty well-versed in most things Enchanted Hollow.”

Holly’s eyes flick between the two of us. “You lived next door to each other? And now you’re dating? This is the best thing that could ever happen.” She takes a deep breath and clenches her fists in excitement.

I know that look. Holly might’ve only lived with us for a couple of months, but it’s easy to get to know someone under those conditions. She’s bursting to the gills with joy, but she’s also plotting. The wheels in her brain are moving so fast I’m surprised I can’t see smoke escaping from her ears.

I risk a glance at Ella. This feels messy.

There’s a lot we still need to talk about, but I feel like I can safely assume that there’s a lot riding on this wedding for her. With Charlotte’s involvement, the last thing she needs is for Holly to think we’re a couple.

It could create problems for her that don’t even exist.

I open my mouth to correct Holly at the same time Ella draws me closer to her.

“Crazy, right?” Ella laughs. She hooks an arm around my back while my hand instinctively settles on her waist. Like it belongs there.

I want to ask what she’s doing, but then she tips her head to look up at me, her green eyes framed by dark lashes. That’s all it takes. Like so many years before, I’m jumping into a situation that I should stay far, far away from.

“I didn’t think it was anyone’s business what Ella and I are to each other,” I reply. Surprise flits across Ella’s face before she settles into a soft smile.

It’s not a lie. But I’m not telling Holly she’s wrong either. It’s a slippery slope.

“Is this a secret?” Holly asks, sounding downright delighted by the idea.

“It’s a pretty big secret,” I answer. “So we’d appreciate it if you don’t mention what you saw here.”

Gran doesn’t need anything to feed her matchmaking fixation.

“Sure. Of course.” Holly lets out a soft sigh. “This is so romantic. I can’t even believe my luck.”

I’m not sure about how lucky or romantic it is, but I know one thing. The last time I didn’t mind my own business, I had my heart broken. This situation has the potential to end the same way if I’m not careful.

Maybe, if we take a different approach, we can write a new ending.