Chuckling, he shook his head. “Yeah, I’m afraid that’s one area I know absolutely nothing about.”
“It would be nice if I didn’t have to travel to farmers’ markets and stay all day long to sell my products.” Her smile widened and her voice became animated. “Would you believe that Jillian Evans… I mean Wilder… came to visit me the other day and suggested that I put items in her shop! And Tori Evans came with her and wanted to purchase some for her Sea Glass Inn!” Shaking her head, she added, “I didn’t even know they knew who I was.”
Scott reached up and tugged at the collar of his shirt, heat infusing his face. Looking up, he found her eyes staring intently at him, and he could tell the instant the idea dawned on her.
Leaning back huffing, she asked, “Was that you?”
Lifting his hands in supplication, he said, “Please, Lizzie, don’t be mad at me. I really wanted to help you but knew that you were not ready to let me do anything. I happened to go into Jillian’s Coffee Shop and noticed her shelves in the back where she keeps local items to sell. I realized how nice your products would look on her shelves, so I mentioned it to her. That was all.” Reaching across the table, he placed his hand on hers and gave a little squeeze. “I just wanted to take some of the burden from you.”
She remained silent for a moment, thoughts working behind her eyes before she finally spoke. “It would be foolish of me to be angry with you over that, Scott. Having my products in some of the stores is exactly what I wanted, but I had no connections to move forward with that and very little time to work on them. So, thank you. I know you’re just doing what Papa Beau asked of you.”
A rush of air left his lungs, and he smiled, squeezing her hand again. “Lizzie, I liked and respected your grandfather and would do anything that he asked. But please, know what I’m doing, I’m doing for you.”
Her brow scrunched as she held his gaze, but he was saved from further explanation when the server brought their check and a group of fishermen came in, loudly filling the stools around the bar. Quickly signing, he slid from his seat and held out his hand for her. Assisting her down, he gently placed his hand on the small of her back as he guided her out the door. He knew she was confused by his words but did not feel that she was ready to hear how she was filling his thoughts. Determined to keep it professional for now, he led her back to his office.
“I forgot to tell you that Jillian also had me sign up for a booth at the Fairgrounds for the race. She said there would be lots of people there... much more than at the farmers’ market.”
Unease snaked through him at the thought that she would see him before he had a chance to explain about his amputation... but then, maybe someone had already mentioned it. But if not, then she might not—
A touch on his arm startled him, and looking down, he observed her hand on him and her brow wrinkled once more.
“Hey, are you alright?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he rushed. “Just thinking about you selling your products at the race.” She nodded, but her expression remained wary. He covered her hand with his as they stood outside his office saying goodbye.
She hesitated, nibbling on her bottom lip. “What should I do next?”
He had been staring at her lips, and it was on the tip of his tongue to say, “Kiss me,” but quickly caught himself. “Um... call your insurance agent, and I’ll talk to Preston. Once we know what licenses and insurance we need, we’ll move forward on those. Go ahead and get some of your goat milk products to Jillian and Tori and we’ll start getting word-of-mouth advertising from that.”
Smiling, she nodded up at him, her hand resting warmly in his. “Thank you, Scott. For everything you’re doing... it means a lot to me. Thank you.”
Leaning close, he said, “Believe me when I say working with you is my pleasure.”
He watched as pink tinted her cheeks, and she ducked her head as she turned and hustled to her truck. As she drove down the road, he could not keep the smile from his face. Rubbing the back of his neck, he wondered how to tell her about his amputation. Before she sees my prosthetic or let it happen naturally?
11
Lizzie heaved a sigh of relief on her drive back home, her heart lighter than it had been in weeks. Scott had accepted her apology and was willing to help her with her dream. In the distance, she could see her farmhouse, the sun illuminating the white front, and she was filled with the idea that her grandparents were smiling down on her.
Scott seemed to have led a charmed life, coming from a family with money and having a waiting job in his grandfather’s accounting business, but his willingness to help her was no longer a bone of contention. She liked the way he focused on her and her ideas, not pushing them to the side. Spending time with the handsome man would certainly not be a hardship. That idea caused her thoughts to stumble. No... I can’t go there. Losing her heart to someone out of her league would be ridiculous. He’s a businessman willing to help, that’s all. Sighing, she wished it could be more, but her grandmother’s words came to mind… “Lizzie, remember, if wishes were horses, beggars could ride!”
A giggle slipped out and she shook her head. Her grandmother was right. It was better to stick to plans that could be worked on and not waste time on wishes that would not come true. Glancing at her watch, she knew the animals were anxious to be fed, and she could not wait to get her chores accomplished so that she could do more research on her business plan.
Pulling into her drive, she saw that there was a pickup truck parked at the end of the lane. Not recognizing it, she parked to the side of the house, glancing at the empty truck. The door was emblazoned with the logo of PD Development.
Curious, she walked around to the back, looking for the driver, startling when she saw a man walking toward her from the gate of one of her pastures. Dressed in jeans and a blue chambray shirt with his business logo embroidered on the pocket, his face was mostly hidden underneath a cowboy hat. Furious at his audacity, she stomped forward, eyes pinned on him.
His smile widened when he saw her, and he immediately called out, “Hello, ma’am. My name is—”
Throwing her hand up in front of her, she said, “I have no idea what your business is, but trespassing on private property is a surefire way to get ejected immediately.”
“Ms. Weston, I apologize. I promise there was nothing I was doing other than just taking a look at your beautiful farm.”
“Well, I’m a busy woman, so state your business so that I can get on with mine.”
He pulled his hat off his head and held it in his hands as he continued, “My name is Paul Dugan, and I knew your granddad, Ms. Weston. Thought a lot of him and wanted to offer my condolences.”
She offered him a nod but no words, waiting to see what else he had to say, and it appeared Mr. Dugan had no trouble filling the silence.
“I had presented Mr. Weston with a proposal several weeks before he passed, and he was in the process of considering my offer. You see, I own PD Development, and this land is just right for turning into a nice subdivision. Nestled between Baytown and Easton, lovely views, and driving distance to the Bay. We were setting up another meeting to discuss some of the particulars but were unable to do so. I know that he was very excited about what I was offering, and I wanted to wait a respectful amount of time before coming by and seeing you.”