Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
I’d gotten rid of my office clothes when I left Richmond. These days my wardrobe was mostly jeans, t-shirts, and leggings for the rare lazy day at home. I had a handful of nicer things I hadn’t worn since I’d come back to Sawyers Bend. Not much. Between the five of us, we finished unpacking the last duffel an hour after we’d started.
Tenn showed up just as we folded up the last of the boxes we’d emptied. He carried an open box, brightly colored spikes poking from the top. When he got closer, I realized they were flowers. Glass flowers.
“You remembered! Thank you!” Scarlett leaned in, kissing Tenn on the cheek and taking the box.
He turned to press a longer kiss to her lips, leaving her eyes bright and her cheeks pink when he pulled away. “I’ll be back in a while. Just have to get the kids.”
“K,” Scarlett said, looking a little dazed. After she watched Tenn leave, she set the box on the counter and pulled out a vase filled with glass flowers, setting it in the middle of the dining table.
“Scarlett, these are beautiful!” I traced a finger over the curve of a purple iris on a vibrant green stem, the curling leaf so perfect it looked real. I knew this was Scarlett’s work. She was a glass artist, her studio in what had been one of the pantries down the hall from the kitchen. She made small pieces like these flowers, as well as jewelry and whatever else sparked her imagination. It was an honor to have them, and they meant that much more because they were a gift from her.
Catching her eye, I said, “I love this so much. Thank you!”
“Parker found the vase,” Scarlett said, “and we thought it looked perfect with your kitchen and the rest of the colors in here, but it needed flowers. I didn’t want you to have to get fresh flowers all the time. I love making flowers, so I thought I’d make you a bouquet you could keep forever.”
“Or until Nicky knocks it over,” Sterling added.
Scarlett laughed. “I’ll just make more. I know all about boys knocking things over.”
If anyone knew about boys knocking things over, it was Scarlett. She’d shown up at Heartstone Manor only five months ago, August in tow, handcuffed to Tenn. He’d caught her trespassing at the Inn and was about to turn her in to West, our police chief, when they literally stumbled across a body and Scarlett became Tenn’s alibi. It hadn’t taken long to see that she and Tenn were crazy for each other.
The surprise had been the way Tenn had taken to Scarlett’s boys, eight-year-old August and thirteen-year-old Thatcher. Overnight, it seemed Tenn had become a father and Heartstone Manor a family home. August and Thatcher were good kids, and Nicky had been thrilled to have playmates in the Manor. I’d been happy to make a friend too. Scarlett was funny, tough, and sweet at the same time. Watching her with Tenn always made me smile.
She arranged the glass flowers in the vase, then helped me wash the coffee mugs while Parker and Sterling packed up what was left of the pastries. The knock on the door startled all of us. I looked up to see my mother swinging open the front door.
“We’re here for tea,” she called out, Tenn behind her holding a tray and a thermos.
“Finn’s busy with dinner,” Tenn said, “but he thought you guys might want to have tea here today so you could show Nicky and your mom the cottage. The boys are right behind me. They’ll be here in a minute.”
“Sweet of him,” Sterling commented under her breath.
“Very,” I agreed, any possibility of further comment cut off by the boys flying through the door, Nicky in the lead.
“Moooom!! This is so cool!” Nicky had seen the cottage before, but it had been empty, not fully decorated down to paintings on the wall and Scarlett’s beautiful glass bouquet on the table. He threw himself at me in a full-body hug before careening off and racing down the hall. “I’m gonna show the guys my room!”
August and Thatcher followed, the latter looking a little sheepish at the younger kid’s enthusiasm, as any proper teenager would.
“Looks awesome,” Thatcher said as he passed. High praise indeed.
Scarlett smiled at me as he passed. We had three good boys between us. It wasn’t a surprise Tenn had taken to them so easily. August hadn’t been hard to win over, but Thatcher had been more reserved, torn by his loyalty to his disaster of a father. Tenn had given him space, and more importantly, understanding. Thatcher had warmed up to him faster than I’d expected, and now the two of them shared a bond that was growing day by day.
“Can I stay for tea?” Tenn asked. “After we get a tour?”