Without thinking, she jerked on the steering wheel and pulled into The Diner’s parking lot, suddenly filled with the desire for something familiar… something she had shared with Papa Beau. Glad that the breakfast crowd was over and the lunch crowd had not descended upon the popular restaurant, she pushed open the door, hearing the familiar bell announce a new customer.
Carrie was behind the counter, her eyes hitting Lizzie at the same time that Joe and Mavis looked up from the back. Her breath caught in her throat as doubt slid through her, the acute loss of Papa Beau taking over. Carrie moved to her, her eyes warm as she pulled Lizzie into a hug.
“Let’s get to the counter, sweetie.”
With a jerky nod, she allowed Carrie to guide her over to the counter where she settled onto one of the old stools. She looked through the kitchen’s pass-through window and caught Joe’s eyes. He held her gaze for a long moment then lifted his chin in greeting. It was a simple movement, but she understood the unspoken words of condolence and found his silent gesture to be comforting. Offering him a slight smile, she nodded in return.
“You look like you could use some coffee, darling,” Mavis said, coming up behind her, resting her hand on Lizzie’s back. “You also look like you could use some food.”
“Do you feel like you can eat anything?” Carrie asked.
She was about to deny their offer when the scent of bacon, fried potatoes, and scrambled eggs hit her, and she sighed. “Yeah, it smells really good. But… um… not too much.”
While Mavis went to the kitchen, Carrie poured a cup of coffee and then settled on the stool next to her. “I didn’t want to hover at your grandfather’s funeral, but I’m glad you came in today. I was actually going to call you later. I wanted to see how you were doing and see if there was anything I could help you with. Of course, Jack has school during the day, but he would love to come help you on the farm in the afternoons.” Chuckling, she added, “He may only be eleven, but I know he’d be a good worker and would love being around animals.”
Often preferring solitude, Lizzie found that she liked the idea of the irrepressible Jack helping on the farm occasionally. Nodding, she replied, “Let me get my head together about everything I need to do, and I’ll give you a call. Actually, I would love to have him help. The animals love company, and I’m not sure that I can give them my full attention right now.”
Carrie slid her arm around Lizzie's shoulders and gave her a hug. “I want to ask how you’re doing, but that would be such a foolish question. But can I confess that I’m worried about you?”
Tilting her head to the side, she repeated, “Worried?”
“I know that you’ve always worked hard, throwing yourself into anything that Beau or the farm needed. But I’d really like you to come to one of the American Legion Auxiliary meetings with me sometime. I think it would be good for you to get out, even one night a month, and make some new friends.”
She opened her mouth to refute Carrie's suggestion, but Carrie wasn’t finished.
“I know about hard work, Lizzie. I know about working every moment that I could to make enough money so that Jack and I had a roof over our heads and food on the table. But, unlike your job, my job allowed me to be around good people here. I want that for you, too.”
The sting of tears hit her eyes, and she wondered if that was going to continue to happen every time someone mentioned her grandfather or how they wanted to help her. Grabbing her napkin, she wiped her nose quickly but was saved from replying when the bell over the door sounded once again. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched as Colt Hudson, the tall, powerfully-built sheriff strode in and without missing a beat gave Carrie a kiss, then turned to Lizzie and said, “Good to see you out and about. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to let us know.”
Her smile was sincere as she nodded her acknowledgment, then looked down at the plate that Mavis had set in front of her. It was not overflowing with food, for which she was grateful, hating to be wasteful. She nibbled the toast, forked in a few spoonfuls of the eggs and hashbrowns, and munched on a piece of crispy bacon. As she listened to Colt and Carrie’s joking conversation, she was so pleased that her friend was now married to a man like Colt. And, if she was honest with herself, she had to admit that she was a bit envious.
Shaking away that last thought, she finished her breakfast and accepted another round of hugs before leaving. Pulling into the drive by the Weston Farm sign, she breathed a little easier. Papa Beau’s will, along with the knowledge that he liked her ideas for change, eased the weight off her chest slightly again.
As she climbed from the car, she looked toward the pastures with the goats and alpacas and smiled. Then her gaze drifted to the fence row that always needed checking and repairing and the outbuildings and barn that needed to be kept up as well. Nibbling on her bottom lip, she sighed. Hurrying inside, she changed into her work clothes and headed back out. If Scott Redding was going to look over her ideas for the farm, he would find it in perfect order.
Scott left the lawyer’s office, his shoulders rounded in a slump and his head aching. Deciding to stop into Jillian’s Coffee Shop and Galleria to get a cup of coffee, he stepped into the now-familiar old shop. Jillian’s parents had restored the rundown storefront to its original glory. The black-and-white-tiled floor and highly-polished cherry paneling with brass sconces on the wall gave off a warm and welcoming vibe. The morning crowd had left, and he made his way toward the barista. Shelves on the back wall caught his attention, and he bypassed the coffee, walking over to see what Jillian had for sale. Sea glass jewelry, handmade coasters, and bottles labeled ‘essential oil’ filled some of the shelves.
An idea hit him, remembering Beau once telling him that Lizzie made goat milk lotion and soaps. At the time, he’d had no idea what those were… truth be told, he still had no clue. But they seemed like something that Jillian would be able to sell.
“Hey, Scott,” a female voice sounded from behind, and he turned around to observe Jillian approaching. A beauty with long, dark blonde hair, she was dressed in her typical bright colors. Glancing down, he spied her baby bump and grinned, knowing her husband was crowing proudly to anyone who would listen about their baby-to-be. “I saw you come in and thought you might want some coffee, but it looks like you’ve got gift shopping on your mind.”
Rubbing his chin, he smiled in greeting and asked, “Do you think you could sell goat milk lotion and soap?”
Jillian stopped and blinked in surprise, her gaze darting from his face over to the shelves he had been perusing. “Uh… are you looking for some?”
His face reddened with blush, and he chuckled. “Sorry, it’s not for me. Actually, I’m not even sure what it is.”
Jillian’s brow furrowed even more. “But you think I should sell it?”
Shaking his head, he said, “I’m sorry, Jillian. I’m afraid my mind is muddled, and I’m not making any sense.”
Her face relaxed into a smile and she said, “Come on over, have a cup of coffee, and maybe I can help un-muddle your mind.”
He followed her to one of the small tables and soon had a cup of freshly-brewed coffee in his hands. Sipping appreciatively, he carefully considered how much he wanted to tell her. It was important to maintain confidentiality and professionalism with Lizzie’s information but he needed to gain more information before talking to her again.