17. Luke

17

LUKE

D uring the holiday season, Luke’s main focus for the family business was overseeing the packaging of Christmas gifts, a huge part of their annual revenue. Sap season would come in the deep midwinter, but for now he was more business manager than farmer.

By the time he walked into the production building, his team members had been hard at work for an hour, assembling gift baskets while gossiping and joking. Each basket was wrapped in cellophane and tied with a ribbon, then put into a box to be picked up by the local UPS driver around three every afternoon. Although he couldn’t spare a lot of time, he made sure to pop in a few times a week and join them on the assembly line, so to speak. Luke enjoyed the hands-on work of creating the baskets. The rhythmic process was almost therapeutic, and it gave him a chance to connect with the team. He knew a compliment and gratitude meant a lot to his workers, so he made sure to give praise when it was due.

After an hour with the team, he left them to meet with his sales coordinator to review online orders and inventory levels. Kellie was a whip-smart young woman in her twenties he’d hired last year. Not only was she savvy on social media and marketing, but she also really understood the Hayes Maple Syrup brand, which was about family and enjoying the sweetest of life’s gifts together. One of his best hires, if he did say so himself. Kellie updated the farm's social media accounts with photos of their beautifully crafted gift baskets, snowy landscapes of the farm, and other interesting aspects of the daily work of the farm. They were having an exceptionally good holiday season so far, and he gave Kellie a lot of the credit. Sales during November and December guaranteed they stayed solvent during slower periods of the year. He thanked her before heading into his own office to take care of other necessary administrative tasks.

By noon, Luke had wrapped up what he thought of his “inside work” and escaped into the cold, clear day. He breathed in the crisp air, feeling a bit like a kid exiting school after a long day trapped in the classroom. Before heading to the house for lunch with his mother and the kids, he felt a sudden urge to walk through the sugar bush.

It was a fine day despite the bite of winter air against his cheeks. He stopped in the middle of the forest, the acres of sugar maples visible from every angle. Mostly bare of leaves after the unexpected early snow, the trees were as familiar to him as the faces of his family. When he was a boy, he’d imagined he could hear the tree’s voices calling out to him, graciously offering their sweet sap inextricably tied to his family’s livelihood. His heart and soul would remain here in the sugar bush long after he departed the earth, as they had for generations of Hayes men and women.

He closed his eyes, a soft, almost muffled quietness wrapping itself around him, much like a comforting blanket. As he breathed in the earthy scents of damp bark and fallen leaves beneath the snow, gratitude for his life and family and the land they’d farmed for generations made his chest ache in the best possible way.

His thoughts drifted to Abby. The last few weeks had been some of the best of his life. The ease and affection between them was unlike his previous relationships. His marriage had always been plagued with strife and misunderstandings. It was only later, after Sarah left, that he came to understand how unsuited they’d been. Although it had taken a few months to stop waking up with a stomachache, therapy and focusing on Lily had eventually eased his pain. Regardless, the trauma of those days had changed him. Made him more sensitive and compassionate to others and himself. They’d also cemented in his mind what he wanted.

A family.

A wife who was a best friend in addition to a romantic partner and loved and appreciated his family.

A mother for Lily who had the capacity to love a child who wasn’t born from her own womb.

It didn’t take a genius to see what God had landed right into his lap, obnoxious dog and all.

Even Rufus had grown on him.

Life was as sweet as the sap inside his beloved trees.

Finally, it was the night of their first official date. He’d picked her up at six, and now they were in his truck headed to his surprise destination. At the end of their dirt road, he turned right onto Rabbit Run instead of the left that would have taken them into town. They headed north to his secret destination that had him as giddy as a kid.

“Where are we going? I’m dying to know,” Abby said.

“Won’t be long now. Be patient.”

“That’s not one of my best qualities.”

She didn’t ask any further questions, seemingly content to sit back and enjoy the scenery under a deep indigo canvas sprinkled with stars and the full moon that hung low on the horizon. Farmhouses dotted the countryside, many adorned with twinkling Christmas lights.

“We don’t have this in California,” Abby said.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Maybe I’ll take you and the kids out there sometime. We can go to the beach.”

“Making future plans already? I must be doing something right.”

She reached across the seat and took his free hand. “You are.”

They rounded a bend, and Murphy’s Farm appeared. Every inch of the farmhouse and barn were covered in lights. A Nativity scene near the barn had lifelike figures and softly glowing lanterns.

“It looks so real. Do they do this every year?” Abby asked.

“Yep. People drive from all over to see it.”

“We should have brought the kids.”

“This isn’t actually our destination,” Luke said. “But yes, we can bring the kids out here sometime before Christmas. Speaking of which, how was Sophie today?”

“She seemed fine. I think she just had a sad day yesterday,” Abby said. “It’s hard to tell with her because she’s so quiet. Yesterday, all I got were one-word answers.”

“That’s tricky, isn’t it?”

“As is so much of parenting, I’m discovering. I just want her to enjoy being a kid, but instead, I’m afraid she’s weighed down with grief.”

“And there’s not much you can do about it other than love her,” Luke said.

He turned right onto a dirt road lined with tall pines. On either side, vast fields of untouched snow glowed in the moonlight. Not long thereafter, he turned onto a narrower lane, its path marked by lanterns hanging from shepherd’s hooks. Ahead, the silhouette of the old barn came into view. He pulled the truck to a stop in a small clearing where strings of lights had been woven through the trees.

“We’re here,” Luke announced, turning off the engine.

Abby looked around, curiosity evident in her expression. “Where exactly is ‘here’?”

He grinned, stepping out of the truck and moving quickly to her side to open the door. “You’ll see.”

She took his offered hand, and they walked down a short path lined with more lanterns toward the sound of jingling bells. Seconds later, they emerged into an open area where a sleigh awaited, hitched to two beautiful horses with coats as dark as midnight. A driver dressed in Victorian attire waited by the horses.

“What is this?” Abby asked. “Something out of a Dickens novel?”

“I thought you might enjoy a sleigh ride. Am I right, madam?” Luke bowed to match his formal tone.

Abby curtsied. “I don’t mind if I do, kind sir.”

The driver tipped his top hat in greeting. “Good evening, Mr. Hayes. Dr. Parker. I’m Samuel, your driver for the evening. Fine night for a ride, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s wonderful. Magical,” Abby said under her breath.

“I ordered the full moon just for you,” Samuel said.

“Thank you for that,” Luke said, laughing.

“I hope you’re hungry. Mia’s fixed a feast,” Samuel said.

“Dinner? In a sleigh?” Abby asked.

“Not in the sleigh,” Samuel said. “Dr. Parker, you’re in for a treat. For now, just sit back and relax.”

Luke helped her onto the seat, ensuring she was wrapped snugly in blankets before settling in beside her. Samuel gave a gentle command, and the horses moved forward, the sleigh gliding smoothly over the snow, a rhythmic sound of the bells and the horses' hooves adding to the atmosphere.

The path took them through a grove of evergreen trees, their branches forming a natural canopy overhead. Luke placed an arm around Abby, pulling her a little closer. The steady rhythm of the horses’ hooves soothed any nerves he might have. Their breath misted in the cold air as they trotted down the snow-packed path, leading them deeper into the wintry woods. Snow-laden boughs glistened in the moonlight. An owl hooted. One of the horses whinnied in response.

Abby was a vision, with her hair cascading over her shoulders in loose waves. Before she’d donned her wool coat, he’d caught a glimpse of her in a sweater dress that flattered her tall, slender frame.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” Luke asked.

“Thank you. I ordered this dress online before I left California. I was pleased to see it fit.”

“Oh, it fits all right.”

Abby laughed and nudged him with her elbow. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Please do.”

The trail opened up into a clearing where a log cabin built by early settlers had been updated and transformed into a restaurant. In addition to modern windows, a front porch had been added. Smoke curled lazily from the chimney. Lanterns hung from the porch eaves.

Samuel guided the horses to a gentle stop near the front entrance.

“Welcome to Mia’s,” Samuel said.

“This is a restaurant? In the middle of the woods?” Abby asked.

“A few years back, the owner turned her family’s cabin into an Italian bistro,” Luke said. “Mia was a well-known chef in New York, but for some reason, she decided to give it all up and return to her family’s property. She only opens on Friday and Saturday nights. There’s only seating for a dozen.”

“Have you been here before?” Abby asked.

“We took my mother here for her birthday. It was a special night. The food’s unbelievably good.”

“I can’t wait.”

Luke got out first and then helped Abby down, holding her around the waist for a moment before setting her down onto the icy walkway.

“I’ll be here to take you home whenever you’re ready,” Samuel said.

“What about the horses?” Abby asked. “Don’t they get cold?”

Samuel gestured at a barn not far from the cabin. “We stay nice and toasty. Don’t you worry, Dr. Parker.”

“Glad to hear it,” Abby said, smiling up at him.

Luke took her arm and led her down an icy path to a heavy wooden door. An older man in a black suit greeted them and held the door for them to pass through. “Good evening, Mr. Hayes. Dr. Parker. My name is Remi, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”

“Thank you, Remi.” Rich aromas of garlic, simmering tomatoes, and fresh herbs made his stomach growl. “We’re happy to be here.”

“Right this way.” Remi led them to a table by the window. With silky hair the color of the moon and his tall, slender frame, Remi reminded Luke of an aging movie star from the golden era of cinema.

“It’s so romantic,” Abby said. “And intimate.”

There were only six tables in total, all draped with red-and-white-checkered cloths. In the remodel, wooden beams had been added overhead, presumably for structural purposes, but they added to the rustic romance of the place. As did the original stone fireplace, alight with a real wood fire. Black-and-white photographs of Italian villages and landscapes hung on the walls. They appeared to be the last seating of the evening, as the others were in various states of dinner, some with main courses and others nibbling on bread.

Once they were seated, Remi told them about the menu, which changed depending on the chef’s whim. “Tonight, we’ll start with an antipasto platter of various meats and cheeses, followed by a second course of handmade pappardelle with wild mushroom ragù. For your third course, you will enjoy osso buco with saffron risotto. For dessert, we have Mia’s famous tiramisu.”

There were no choices. One ate what Mia made. Not that anyone complained.

“The second and third course will be paired with an Italian wine. However, we’ll begin with a glass of prosecco,” Remi said.

Luke’s stomach grumbled again. “I’m starved,” he whispered to Abby, in case she’d heard his embarrassing growling.

“I am too,” Abby whispered back. “But what’s osso buco?”

“Braised veal shanks.”

“Oh, the poor baby cows.” Abby made a face and played with the crescent moon necklace nestled at the hollow of her neck. “I’ll not think about them and their pretty eyes.”

“I don’t think you’ll be thinking of anything but how delicious it is,” Luke said.

Mia emerged from the door that led to the kitchen. Her thick black hair was pulled back in a loose bun that flattered her delicate features and dark complexion. She was a petite woman, only slightly over five feet.

Mia crossed the room to greet them. “Welcome to my humble establishment. We’ll be taking good care of you tonight.”

“Thank you,” Abby said.

“This is your first visit with us, is that correct?” Mia gave them a weak smile that seemed born from sadness rather than pleasure. A dim quality in her eyes hinted at some inner pain, yet her strength of character was also obvious.

“Yes, I’m new to town,” Abby said.

“You’ll like Sugarville Grove, I imagine. There’s something magical here that heals a heart. I do hope you’ll enjoy your meal with us and come back many times.” Mia bobbed her head and then hustled over to greet another table.

Soft Italian melodies from speakers overhead mingled with the gentle crackling of the fireplace. Candlelight reflected off the windows, the glass a mirror in the dark night.

Remi brought them each a glass of prosecco and a basket of freshly baked bread, followed shortly thereafter with a beautifully arranged platter of prosciutto, salami, and mortadella, mozzarella, sharp pecorino, and fresh ricotta served alongside marinated olives, artichoke hearts, and roasted red peppers.

“This is lovely,” Abby said to Remi.

“Enjoy,” Remi said, with a deferential bow of his head.

They dug into the food as if neither had eaten in weeks. Between their groans of pleasure over the creamy cheeses and spicy meats, they sipped their prosecco and conversed in hushed tones, mindful of the other visitors. Luke learned more about Abby’s mother, who had beaten cancer when Abby was sixteen, only to have it come back again. “She only made it another two months after it came back.”

Luke reached across the table to squeeze her wrist. “I’m sorry.”

“I was devastated. I’ve spent the years since then and now working myself harder than anyone should. I can see now that I was only trying to escape my grief. It doesn’t work, by the way. It’s still there, waiting for those moments when your guard’s down and brings you to your knees. The only good I can see that’s come of it is that I can understand Sophie’s pain and hopefully help her through it.”

The next course came, along with a glass of Chianti. Fresh, wide ribbons of pappardelle pasta were topped with a hearty wild mushroom ragù, paired with an earthy blend of local mushrooms simmered in a rich red wine sauce. They were too busy twisting pasta around their forks and savoring the spices to speak much.

“Is it bad manners to wipe this clean with a piece of bread?” Abby’s eyes danced in the candlelight.

“No way. None of Mia’s food should go to waste.”

Remi returned, filling their glasses with another red wine. “This is a Barolo,” Remi said. “A full-bodied red from the Piedmont region. You’ll notice complex layers of dark fruit, licorice, and truffle, which pairs magnificently with the rich, slow-braised veal.”

Luke waited for Remi to be out of earshot before he leaned over the table to say to his beautiful date, “I doubt I’ll notice any of those elements in the wine.”

She laughed softly. “Me either. But I’ll drink it just the same.”

The rest of the evening flew by. Luke shared more about the time after his wife’s departure and how gob-smacked fatherhood had rendered him. “I never knew it was possible to love anyone with such intensity. The first time I held her in my arms—she was so tiny—my heart was never the same. I hope it’s made me a better man.” He told her of the sleepless nights, his mother’s sacrifices, and his father’s steady support. To his embarrassment, he choked up talking about his mother. “Without that woman, I don’t know where I’d be. Or Lily.”

He went on to tell her that he hadn’t dated anyone since his divorce. “I didn’t want to risk hurting Lily.”

“But now?”

“You’re different. You’re like my mother. The person everyone counts on. The center of everything that matters.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears, and she reached across the table to cup his chin in her hand. “If I am half the woman she is, I’ll consider myself a success.”

She went on to share how ambition had been her only motivator for so long. “I didn’t have time to date, even if I’d wanted to. I’ve always been a loner. Except for my two best friends.” She described Breck and Arabella and how they’d been her cheerleaders and supporters all through school. “Both of them are salt of the earth. The types who would drop anything to help a friend. I hope you’ll get to meet them soon.”

“I’d like that.” Meeting her friends? He would adore being part of her life in that way.

The tiramisu came with a sweet dessert wine that Remi explained was from Tuscany and known for its caramel, dried fruit, and nutty flavors. “It’s the ideal match for tiramisu. Like the two of you, it would appear.” He smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

After Remi left, Luke tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, thankful for the small table and length of his arm. He would never grow tired of touching her, feeling her warmth and soft skin and silky hair. “Is it possible? That this is actually happening? Just out of nowhere like this?”

“In the words of our new friend Remi, it would appear so.”