Ava grinned. “Don’t let him fool you. He’s devastated. He barely touched the chicken and waffles I made.”
“I beg to differ, madam! I ate everything on my plate the first time and only balked when I had my second helping. You have to understand that I have a poor, shrunken bachelor stomach and can’t handle such blissfully good food. It was—” He kissed his fingers to the air.
Ella had to laugh. “Ava’s a great cook.”
“Hardly,” Ava said, although she looked pleased. “But I’m good enough. Plus, I know how to cheer up cranky teenagers and it’s not by telling annoying dad jokes.”
Dylan gave her a mock-outraged glare. “Don’t critique my daddying skills. They’re finely honed in ways you couldn’t possibly understand.”
Ava gave an exasperated sigh. “Right now, I’m more interested in your contracting skills.” She looked at Ella. “Some of the tiles around the dining room fireplace are loose. They need fixing.”
Dylan sighed sadly. “Your sister has called me at least a dozen times about those.”
“And you still haven’t fixed them,” Ava said impatiently.
Ella thought that Dylan would be more likely to fix the tiles if Ava stopped calling him, but she wasn’t about to say a word. “I’d love to stay and see if the tiles get fixed, but I’ve got to get to the judges’ meeting. We’re to confirm the bake-off judging criteria today. Sarah’s letting us use the conference room in the library.” It would be lovely to have a meeting that wasn’t about tight budgets, security, fire exits, and the million and one things that needed to happen in order to properly stage a public event. I’m so glad Tiff stepped in to handle the details. I couldn’t begin to do it myself.
Ava held up a finger. “A word of warning. Sarah will probably invite you to get some coffee from the break room, but don’t fall for it. It’s so weak, you can read through it.”
“I have just enough time to stop by the Moonlight, so I should be able to avoid the library coffee.”
“Smart. I heard Jules Stewart volunteered to judge.”
“I think she’s there to keep an eye on me.”
Ava’s mouth thinned. “I don’t like how she treats you.”
One of the things Ella had learned about Jules was that the lady knew how to smile politely while at the same time skewering one with an icy look. “I’ll admit that she’s been a bit cold toward me.”
“ ‘Bitter cold with heavy snow and sleet’ is more like it.”
“Don’t worry; I’ll wear a hat and scarf. That’ll help.” Ella checked the clock in the hallway again. “I’d better get on my way. Enjoy your morning, guys.” She waved and left, catching a glimpse of Dylan smiling up at Ava.
A twinge of jealousy hit Ella, surprising her. That’s ridiculous. I don’t want that. I want… She didn’t know what she wanted. But it wasn’t that. Heavens, no!
She backed the car out of the driveway and then drove down Elm Street. She’d never wanted a deeper, nondisposable relationship. She’d enjoyed her breezy, uncomplicated dating life, happy in the knowledge that when the seasons changed, she’d get a new coat and a new boyfriend, too. That kept things light, which she liked, and prevented any sort of potential heartbreak.
As she turned off Elm Street onto Main, she wondered why she worked so hard to avoid heartbreak. Maybe it was because she’d watched her mother suffer so profoundly at the death of her father. That had been brutal, and it seemed that Momma had never gotten over it. Years later, when Momma died, the doctors said that she’d had a weak heart, but Ella had always thought Momma’s heart was not “weak” at all, but simply “broken.” Heaven knew Ella’s heart had been damaged when Dad died.
That was probably the reason she avoided long-term relationships. But maybe it was something else. Maybe it was also because she’d never met anyone who’d made her feel safe or cherished enough to experience the type of blissful, effortless comfort Momma and Dad had shared. Ella wondered if she and Gray could ever be that close. That would be something, wouldn’t it? I—
She blinked. Whoa! What in the heck am I thinking? Gray had sunk roots in Dove Pond, which made him a no-no right off the bat. She couldn’t envision a future here. I’d never have a life again. She hadn’t even been here two months and she’d already been trapped into judging the bake-off, lulled into providing tons of free endorsements for the businesses in town, tricked into becoming an unpaid Uber driver, and forced to sacrifice her beloved sleep to serve on cranky committees at godless hours of the morning.
Heaven knew what the people in this town would expect if she moved here permanently. Who needed that?
Still, she had to admit that it was just short of adorable how much Gray loved this town and his farm. Last week, when they were on their way to catch a movie in Asheville, he’d had to stop by his place to pay the mason who’d finished repointing his old chimney. Halfway up the long drive, Gray had pulled his truck up to the fence where his Highland cows were grazing. Ella had never seen a Highland cow up close, so she’d been happy to get out with him. To her delight, Gray had introduced her to the whole herd. With endearing seriousness, he’d told her the name of each cow and given a brief summary of their individual personalities. She’d never been more charmed by him than she was when a too-cute-for-words calf had come running up when it saw Gray standing at the fence. Her heart had melted even more when Gray had sheepishly admitted he’d named the calf Adorbs for “obvious reasons.”
He loved his farm, his animals, and his life. And if I wanted it to happen, I think he might love me, too. But… did she want that? Did she want to invest in a relationship that could only come to its completion here, in a town where she didn’t want to live? Besides, all relationships were destined to end in some way—through disappointment, bitterness, betrayal, or death. Sure, that seemed grim, but Ella had watched it happen over and over. And she knew the cost of such a loss.
She made a face. All relationships were finite. And she, for one, didn’t want to live with that future devastation hanging over her head. Not now, not ever.
Muttering to herself about her own ridiculousness in even considering anything else, she parked in front of the Moonlight, grabbed her purse, and got out of her car. The morning chill combined with a brisk autumnal breeze made her glad she had her coat. Tugging the collar closer, she hurried inside and saw Marian working behind the counter.
Ella slid onto a stool and hung her purse on a hook under the counter. Another fabulous touch from Jules. “Good morning, Marian. I’d like a coffee and a breakfast sandwich to go.”
“Coffee coming right up.” Marian handed Ella a menu and then nodded to the chalkboard. “Those are the day’s specials.”
Ella read the list and had to laugh. “Who’s been watching Our Flag Means Death?” Every sandwich was named for a character from the show, which she loved.
Marian grinned over her shoulder as she poured Ella’s coffee. “That was Mark’s idea. I don’t think Ms. Jules has ever seen a single episode.”
“He has good taste in television.”