He sighed, checking to make sure Gretchen was still occupied with her daughter. She was, and he loved watching the two of them together. They’d been through a lot with only each other to rely on and it showed.
When? he texted.
I’m not sure of my schedule yet. I’ll let you know.
Frustration rose within him. He had no idea where Yvonne had gone, or what she was doing now. He didn’t care.
As if every Hammond was drawn to him, Augustus caught his eye. Their gazes locked, and the older man started toward the bench, where Gretchen still talked with Dixie. Drew’s parents had gone to find frozen lemonade—with lavender, of course—leaving him to face the lavender legend alone.
“Be right back,” he said to Gretchen before standing and meeting Augustus out on the lawn.
“Are you entering the Lavender Festival Creation Contest this year?” Augustus asked, not wasting time with even a simple hello.
Drew still didn’t have a perfect recipe. His flavors had eluded him. But the festival was months away still, and his confidence was high. “I think I am this year, yes.”
“You said that last year.” Augustus practically scoffed, but managed to turn the sound into a cough. “I’m doing another ice cream, so you’ll have your work cut out for you if that’s what you’re planning to enter with.”
“What flavors?” Because he better come with more than blueberries and honey.
Augustus actually laughed. “Nice try.” He scanned Drew and definitely found him lacking before turning and walking away.
Drew sighed and turned around to find Dixie and Gretchen watching him. He returned to them and sat further from Gretchen than he had been previously.
“What was that about?” she asked.
“Oh, you know Augustus.”
“Not that well, actually.”
“He just told me he’s entering an ice cream into the Creation Contest too.”
“You’ll beat him,” Gretchen said, her voice every bit as calm and powerful as the one he used on patients. He wasn’t sure he believed her, but he appreciated the vote of confidence.
So he nodded, determined not to let Augustus or Yvonne ruin this day. After all, he’d dreamt about the day he’d have special guests at the Safety Fair. He groaned as he stood. “So, should we go play some of the games they have set up?”
Dixie leapt to her feet and slipped her hand into Drew’s. “I want to do the ring toss. You can win a goldfish!”
“Oh, boy.” Drew exchanged a glance with Gretchen where she made hand motions that clearly said No. No ring toss. No goldfish! He chuckled and waited for her to find her balance on her crutches. He managed to enjoy the next couple of hours, but Yvonne was never far from his mind, and he decidedly disliked that.
Over the next few weeks, Drew tried four new ice cream recipes. He brought Gretchen to his house in the evenings when he wasn’t working and let her try them. She claimed to like them all, but Drew knew none of them were right for the Lavender Festival Creation Contest.
Impatience dug at him, but he crossed off lemon, orange, and raspberry as possible citrus flavors to go with the lavender.
He needed something else. But what, he didn’t quite know yet.
His routine of helping her with the flowers in the morning, driving her and Dixie to work and school, and heading out to the farm after work brought him so much joy. If he worked the day shift, he and Dixie and Jess rode horses out to the wishing well in the evening. The kids hadn’t missed a day in a month, and on the thirtieth day, Jess’s whole face beamed.
“I did it, Drew.”
Drew sure hoped his wish would come true, and he tousled the boy’s hair. “What did you wish for?”
“I can’t tell you.” Jess gave him a duh, Drew look but wiped it away quickly. “But my birthday is coming up, and I just know I’m going to get what I want.”
Panic paraded through Drew, and he made a mental note to speak with Janey about the boy’s birthday. She’d been spending most evenings out at the farmhouse too, even if it was just to sit on the couch while she caught up with email on her phone. He’d caught her napping once or twice too, and he’d let her snooze on the couch while he took her son out with the horses he loved so much.
His mother had been glowing since Gretchen had moved in, and Drew had even detected a change in Joel, too.
On his days off, he spent time training his dogs. He wanted to sit in the flower shop with Gretchen all day, but he didn’t want to appear desperate. So he taught Blue how to crawl and threw a ball for the shepherds until his arm ached. Then he’d take her lunch and spend an hour with her before heading back to the farm to work in the lavender fields.
As May dragged on, the plants that dominated the summer in Hawthorn Harbor required more and more attention. Each variety peaked at a different time, and each had to be harvested, bundled, and hung in the cellar.
Some got steeped in simple syrup to make lavender vanilla. Some got made into essential oils, that his mother then infused into soaps, lotions, and shampoos. Some was combined with culinary sugar, and salt, and spices. Joel used the lavender culinary products to make everything from lavender ranch mix and onion and chive with lavender dip mix.
No matter what, Drew felt like lavender had taken over his entire existence.
Gretchen had graduated into a walking boot, and more often than not, when Drew showed up at the farm, he found her on her granddad’s land, cultivating, fertilizing, or cutting back row after row of lavender that had been abandoned years ago.
One warm evening, he found her wearing a cream sundress with vibrant flowers splashed across it, working along a tall row of yellow lavender. “Ah, Lavender Viridis,” he said, smiling when she turned. She seemed stable enough in her walking boot and single running shoe.
“There you are.” She leaned into him and let him kiss her forehead. Her auburn hair smelled like strawberries and felt like silk between his fingers. He wanted to migrate south and touch his lips to hers, but the timing had never been right. “I heard Blue barking twenty minutes ago.”
“Yeah, he’s around here somewhere.” He glanced at the vibrant yellow flowers. “What are you doing with this?”
“I was thinking it would make a great cologne.” She pinched off a flower and brought it to her nose. “It smells very masculine, don’t you think?” She lifted it for him to smell.
“It smells like lavender,” he said. “Maybe a little softer, not quite as sweet.”
“But with the right base notes—maybe cypress or moss—it would be a great aftershave.”
He chuckled and pulled her close to his side, glad her bulky crutches were gone. “So are you going to turn your bathroom into a perfumery? Enter the Lavender Festival Creation Contest and try to get the crown?”
“Maybe.” She lifted one shoulder and dropped the yellow flower. “But not this year.” She twisted and wrapped her arms around his waist. “This year, you’re going to be Lavender King.”
He gazed out over the rows and rows of lavender, the sun still high in the sky as spring had turned into summer. “I still haven’t found the right flavor for my ice cream.”
“It’s only May.”
“The festival is in eight weeks.” Just saying it out loud made his chest tight. “Maybe I won’t be able to enter this year.” Disappointment cut sharply through him. He’d felt so sure that this year would be his year. He didn’t want to face Augustus and explain why he hadn’t entered.
“So let’s brainstorm,” Gretchen said, stepping out of his embrace and putting her hand in his instead. She moved down the row of lavender, sliding her palm across the tops of the flowers.
“I’ve done blueberry, raspberry, lemon, and orange. I don’t think lime will work, because it’s too close to lemon. Those sharp, acidic citrus flavors overpower the lavender, and they’re almost bitter.”
He wasn’t quite sure how to describe what was going wrong, only that it was. Lavender had to be the dominant flavor, even
if there were others. The combination had to be unique. He thought he’d found the perfect amount of black pepper, but he wouldn’t really know until he got the sour note right.
“Pineapple?” Gretchen suggested.
Drew thought about the fruit, which could be pureed easily. “I can give it a try.” But he didn’t feel great about it. “I need something that wouldn’t be better as a sorbet or a sherbet.”
“Well, citrus fruits are best in those.” Gretchen always kept her eyes on the ground when she walked, as it was uneven and she still had that bulky boot.
“I’m sure there’s something we haven’t thought of,” he said. “Using sour cream instead of so much heavy cream helped a lot, actually. But the citrus flavor is still wrong.”
“Grapefruit? Tangerine? Mandarin orange? That might be milder than the sweet orange you’ve tried.”
“Maybe.” He wanted something without a rind. Something he couldn’t zest and put in the base. He’d tried that, and while he liked candied lemon rind, it didn’t feel that great on the tongue, frozen in an otherwise smooth ice cream. “What about another type of berry? Cherries, maybe?”
Washington State grew a lot of cherries. And they were sour.
“Cranberries?” she suggested.
Feeling more hopeful, Drew smiled at her. “Both of those sound like something to at least try.”
A bell started ringing in the distance, and Drew’s adrenaline spiked. “There’s the dinner bell.” He started to increase his pace, but Gretchen hung back. “What is it?”
She rubbed her arms as if cold. Sighing, she glanced toward the ocean and let her gaze linger there when she said, “I don’t think I should stay with your parents much longer.”
Disbelief tore through Drew. “What? Why not?”
“I’m walking okay on my own now. Dr. Harris says I can start driving as soon as this boot comes off.”
“And that’s not for three more weeks.”
She looked right at him, trepidation in her expression. “Are you sure I’m not a burden to them?”
“Gretchen.” He gathered her into his arms, glad when she came, thrilled when she pressed her cheek against his heartbeat. “You’re anything but a burden to them. Have you seen my mother? She loves having you and Dixie at the farm. In fact, you’re going to face a fight when it’s time to go.”
“I’m afraid Dixie will never leave.”
“Maybe you should think about moving out here permanently.”
“I can’t live with your parents permanently.” She shook her head and put some distance between them. “I need my own space.”
Drew understood that, so he nodded and glanced around at the rows of lavender they’d been walking between. “What about this farm?”
“Joel owns this farm.”
“But he’s not doing anything with it. Maybe you could ask him if he’ll sell it to you.”
Gretchen looked at him like he’d sprouted an extra head. “I don’t have the money to buy a eighty-acre lavender farm. And the house hasn’t been lived in for years. It’ll need a lot of work to be habitable.”
But Drew noticed how she gazed at it longingly, and he determined to talk to his step-dad about the lavender farm he’d bought but had never bothered to maintain. Maybe he could volunteer his time if Joel would teach him how to put shiplap on walls, or add exposed wood beams to the ceiling for decoration.
Drew arrived at Janey’s house, with the windows filled with yellow, cheery light, just as the chorus to Happy Birthday swelled through the screen door. He let himself in, and finished the song with everyone gathered in the kitchen.
Jess’s face glowed with happiness and excitement in the candlelight as his mother set a cake with twelve flames in front of him. The song finished, and he took a big, big breath before blowing out all the candles.
Everyone cheered, cake got sliced and served, and Jess started opening his presents. Drew had told Janey that Jess had made a wish for his birthday present every day at the well. She’d assured him she’d take care of it, but as each gift was opened, Drew could tell it wasn’t the one Jess had wished for.
Drew stood behind Gretchen at the table, his anxiety for the boy growing, even though he grinned at the new helmet Drew had bought for him. He jumped up from the table and gave Drew a hug. “Thanks, Drew. Can I come ride the ATV tomorrow?”
“Of course, bud.” Drew smiled at Jess as he returned to the table and reached for a paper plate holding some of his birthday cake. He obviously hadn’t gotten what he wanted.
“I have one for you,” Janey said, smiling. “But it’s outside. It didn’t fit in here.”
Everyone began filing outside, and Drew secured Gretchen’s hand in his. “I hope he gets what he wants. He made a wish at the well for a solid month.”
The alarm on her face wasn’t hard to find. “What did Dixie wish for?”
“I have no idea. Neither of them would tell me. But I know Jess’s was related to his birthday. He said that much.”
Janey had everyone stand in the driveway, with Jess in the front. The anticipation was killing Drew. He really wanted this twelve-year-old boy to get what he wanted. He’d have done almost anything to keep the magic of the wishing well alive and ensure Jess’s happiness.
Janey punched in the garage code and the door started to lift. Inch by inch, it revealed a brand new bicycle, with a big blue bow tied on the handlebars.
Jess yelped and ran forward. He reverently touched the seat and the back tire before running to his mom and hugging her tight. “It’s exactly what I wanted, Mom! Thanks!” He sprinted in the house and came out wearing Drew’s new helmet. He struggled with the clasp, and Drew moved through the crowd to help him.
“My wish came true,” Jess said as Drew tightened the straps and fastened the buckle. “I can’t believe it, Drew, but my wish came true!”
Drew’s heart felt like it might burst with joy. “That’s great, bud. Be careful, all right? I don’t want to have to work tonight.” He grinned at the boy.
Jess got on the bike and sailed out of the driveway and on down the street, whooping as he went. Janey laughed and Drew caught her wiping a tear from her eye.
“Thanks for the tip, Drew.”
“Hey, I didn’t know what he wanted.” He gave Janey a smile and watched Jess for another moment. “How did you find out?”
“We moms can ask questions without really seeming like we’re asking questions.” She grinned at her son. “I figured it out just in time.”
“Well, good job. Any idea what Dixie was wishing for?”
Janey swung her attention to him. “No, but I can start to work that into my conversations.”
He nodded. “I think Gretchen would appreciate that.” He looked at her, radiant and beautiful simply wearing jeans and a bright blue blouse.
“You like her a lot.” Janey wasn’t really asking, and when he looked at her, she was watching Gretchen too.
Drew forced himself to chuckle so he wouldn’t give too much away. He honestly didn’t know how much he liked Gretchen. He simply knew he did. He wanted to share his hard days with her. His easy ones. His lazy ones. His busy ones. And he loved Dixie, and just like Jess, would do anything to make her happy.
Since he and Janey had been friends their whole lives, Drew nodded and said, “We’re getting to know each other.”
“Slow and steady,” Janey said before patting his forearm. “Thanks for coming, Drew.” She moved to stand beside her parents while Jess continued to ride up and down the street.
Dixie stood with her mom, and Drew returned to them. “He looks happy, doesn’t he?”
“I hope my wish comes true,” Dixie said in a wistful voice.
“I’m sure it will,” Drew said quickly.
“What was it?” Gretchen asked.
“Mom.” Dixie rolled her eyes. “I can’t just tell you.” She turned and walked away, and Drew sorted through possibilities for what she could want.
“We could ask my mom,?
?? he said. “She spends a lot of time with her in the kitchen and around the farm. Maybe Dixie mentioned something to her.”
“Maybe.” Gretchen seemed distracted, and Drew needed to get home and feed his dogs. Plus, he’d boiled down a pot of cherries last night, strained them, pressed them, and sugared them into a syrup, and he was dying to try a lavender cherry with black pepper ice cream that night.
“I should go. The ice cream is calling me.” He swept a kiss across Gretchen’s cheek, enjoying the way she leaned into his touch, and headed for his truck. He’d barely buckled himself inside when the emergency ring on his phone sounded.
“Drew Herrin,” he answered.
“Multiple-car accident in Bell Hill,” the operator said. “We’re calling in everyone. Buses leave as soon as you can arrive.”
“I’ll be there in five.” He lamented his loss of ice cream making time, but the possibility of saving someone’s life gave him the same high.
Russ navigated the ambulance toward the scene, where at least half a dozen police cars had already arrived, their blue and red lights flashing, flashing, flashing.
Another ambulance had arrived ten seconds ahead of them, and the two paramedics from that bus had their gear out and were approaching the first cop car. He pointed toward a red car that looked like it had been crunched to half its normal size.
Drew swallowed, preparing himself for blood, burns, and broken bones. He didn’t see any smoke, but even an airbag produced enough heat to singe, and he jumped from the ambulance as soon as Russ put it in park. He had the heavy equipment bag from the back and Russ collected the stretcher in only breaths, and they approached the same cop.
“Where’s the most dire need?” Russ asked, surveying the scene. Several people stood on the side of the road with minor injuries, talking to police officers. They could probably get themselves to the hospital to get checked out, or simply go home if they thought they were okay.
“Black truck down on the end,” he said. “Hit from both sides after he tried to avoid the pileup. Both passengers are still inside; the doors won’t open. The people inside are pretty panicked, but they’re awake and alert.”