Library

Chapter 13

[Clay]

With the Harvest Fest looming, I’d been busy once more, although we have an entire committee which handles vendors and distributors. This year, my sister-in-law Halle is involved as she’d proven quite the party planner. She’d helped the local art studio, appropriately named Art’s Studio, host a fundraiser last fall. The event garnered the attention of our mayor, who requested Halle’s assistance on two town festivals: Founder’s Day and Spring Fling. Now, we’ve hired her to oversee the fest.

I arrive at Sylver Seed & Soil early on Saturday, pitching in wherever help is needed. The last forty-eight hours with Mavis have been strained and the busyness of the fest is a good distraction from my thoughts.

I want to understand her. I want to know her better.

The beauty of her soul seeps out of her, like a hazy aura, and I want to capture a sliver of that warmth. Bottle it up like a firefly in a jar, only I’d never trap such an innocent creature. I don’t want to stifle Mavis. I just want her to relax a little, but amid the wavering vibe is constant tension. Like she is one flap from flying away from me.

I’d hoped to bring Mavis and Dutton to the event with me, but the lead up to the fest was just too chaotic. Mavis agreed to meet me at Sylver Seed & Soil around noon. As I’m standing behind a table where we are passing out miniature pumpkins for the decorating contest, I do a double take at a woman dressed from head to toe in black. The sleek outfit outlines all her curves. Her dark hair is parted and twisted into two tight buns on the top of her head, like bound antennas. A vibrant orange material with black edging and white dots drapes over her shoulders and along her arms.

“Butterfly,” I breathe out as Mavis approaches with a mini pink Power Princess beside her. However, I can hardly take my eyes off Mavis. She looks mystical, like a butterfly queen, especially when she spreads out her arms to emphasize the delicacy and beauty of the material.

“That’s gorgeous,” Violet says beside me. Halle’s sixteen-year-old daughter has been recruited to pass out the small gourds for the decorating contest and manage the entries.

Mavis smiles. A true radiant beam lights her eyes and stuns me. “Thank you. My grandmother gave this to me before she passed away.” She smooths her hands down the flimsy, sheer material, pressing it over her belly.

I’m transfixed by the shimmery black outfit she wears beneath the whimsical drape. The body-hugging costume gives away all her hills and valleys. She’s a glorious landscape for everyone to appreciate. But I want to pull her aside, hide us both from prying eyes, and discover first-hand the tantalizing scope of all those dips and curves myself.

“Thank you,” Dutton says, drawing my attention to him for a second, noticing his gratitude extends to Violet who just handed him a small pumpkin.

“You can decorate it any way you want,” Violet reminds him.

“I’m going to make it a mini Power Princess.”

“I love Princess Power .” The enthusiastic female voice comes from my niece, Winnie, my brother Ford’s second daughter who is the same age as Dutton.

“Hey. You guys made it.” I round the table and hug Ford. He’d never been to a Harvest Fest until last year, because he was a professional baseball player and living in Chicago. Now, he lives in Sterling Falls with his family of three little girls, awaiting the arrival of his girlfriend, Cadence, a world renown country singer who is on tour until November.

“Looks like quite a party,” Ford states, his tall, lean demeanor relaxed after years of coming across as uptight. He glances at each of his girls—Zelle, Winnie, and June—dressed respectively as Belle from Beauty and the Beast , a baseball player, and a bright blue bug of sorts.

“June Bug, are you a June bug?” I tease the four-year-old in her glittering, iridescent blue costume.

“Me Bug,” she repeats, proudly.

“I like your costume,” Winnie addresses Dutton, who shyly steps closer to his mother.

“Girls, this is Dutton. He’s been staying at my house,” I address them before pointing out each of my nieces to Dutton. “Dutton, this is Zelle, Winnie, and June.”

Ford clears his throat.

“And this guy.” I clap his shoulder and look at Mavis. “Is my younger brother, Ford.” I leave off that he used to be the centerfielder for the Chicago Anchors.

“Nice to meet you.” Ford extends a hand for Mavis. “I’ve heard a few things about you.”

Mavis stiffens, and Ford senses the shift. “Keeping this guy out of trouble, right?” He tips his head toward me, attempting to tease me.

Mavis’s shoulders relax and she releases Ford’s hand. “He’s not trouble.” But her eyes light up again as she speaks about me.

“Daddy, can Dutton sit with us?” Winnie offers, and I want to hug my niece for her kindness. The boy needs some friends other than his mama.

Dutton glances up at Mavis like he isn’t certain how he should respond.

“Go ahead.” The hesitation in Mavis’s tone might stall the kid from making his own decision, but when he glances back at Winnie, who has an eager expression on her face, Dutton returns her smile. Before we know it, the superhero princess is running after the baseball player to find seats at the tables provided for pumpkin decorating. Zelle leads June to the table as well.

Mavis keeps her eyes on Dutton a minute, before turning back to Ford. “How old is she?”

While they discuss ages and the local school, I check on Violet and her assistants who are tackling the pumpkin decorating activity like future teachers. Her stepdad, my brother Knox, is around here somewhere.

And a sudden wave of gratitude rushes over me. Our family has been spread out for years. Knox in the Navy. Ford playing professional ball. Sebastian serving time in prison. But slowly we’ve come back to this place. Not necessarily the Seed & Soil, but Sterling Falls, and I’m a little overwhelmed by how happy that makes me.

“You okay?” Mavis’s hand on my forearm has me turning my head.

“Yeah. Just . . .” I blow out a breath catching a glimpse of Ford helping his girls, having stepped over to them, and even pointing out something for Dutton seated beside Winnie. “My family.”

Mavis glances in the same direction as me. “It must be nice to have so many siblings, living so close.”

“We weren’t always living this close,” I chuckle, having just recalled such a thing. I move us to the side, away from the registration. “Do you have siblings?”

“A sister.” Mavis’s voice softens. “She’s no longer with me.”

“I’m so sorry.” I run my hand up and down Mavis’s arm, relieved she doesn’t flinch away from the unannounced touch.

“It happened a little over five years ago.” Mavis chews her lower lip, not offering more, and once again I want to pull Mavis to me. I want to tell her she isn’t alone. She has me. She can have my family. They’d welcome her with open arms.

She takes a deep breath, lets it out, and offers me a weak smile. “I should check on Dutton.”

“He looks good in his costume.” He tried it on the other night, but I wasn’t home. Mavis told me he wanted to sleep in it, but she told him no. She didn’t want to risk anything happening to the costume before the event. She also promised to pay me back when she got her first paycheck.

I’d been insulted at the thought. The costume was a gift. One I gladly gave for the smile on that kid’s face.

He and Winnie look like they’d become fast friends. Her chattering away at him and him answering her with a quieter voice. His face turning pink, and him getting that hooded look when he says something snarky, like he’s spoken a private joke.

He’s a good kid. And Winnie could be the friend he needs.

“Speaking of costumes.” I turn to Mavis. “This. Wow.” I do nothing to hide my appraisal of her and she tosses her arms out to the side again to expand the material, showing off its brilliance.

“My nana was special to me. This is a treasured gift from her.” Mavis swallows. “I was fortunate it wasn’t lost in the fire.”

She doesn’t speak about her loss. We haven’t discussed further the sale of her property, and today I don’t want to mar the pleasantness of the Harvest Fest by asking about her sad history.

“You’re a beautiful butterfly.”

Her dark eyes widen and catch on mine. She chews her lower lip but in a coquettish way. Mavis Grant needs compliments and I’m willing to give her anything else she desires.

“And what exactly are you?” Her eyes appraise me as well, roaming down my body, taking in the weathered boots, worn jeans, and a flannel shirt, plus a straw cowboy hat on my head.

“I’m thinking I need to find a giant net and be a butterfly catcher,” I tease.

Mavis chuckles. “I might be too big for your net.”

“Too beautiful to capture.” I smile.

“You might not have to chase too hard.”

Both our eyes light up. Hers perhaps because she’s surprised she suggested such a thing, and mine because I’m shocked as well. It’s the first hint I’ve had that Mavis might be interested in me.

Could she reciprocate my crush on her?

If this woman wants me to chase, I’ll be happy to try and catch her.

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