Driftwood Bay (Hope Harbor #5) - Irene Hannon Page 0,34
forearms on the counter as he’d done during their first visit. “Hi there, Molly.”
“Hi. I drawed you a picture.” She held it up.
He took it and gave the rendering a thorough scrutiny. “This is wonderful. I bet you worked hard on it.”
“I did.”
“I see you drew that friend you mentioned.” He pointed to the dark-haired figure.
“Yes.” She sighed. “But I haven’t found her yet.”
“Well, we haven’t put this on my wall yet.” He rearranged a few of the pictures already on display, pinned Molly’s front and center, and turned back to her. “We have to give it a chance to work. You keep wishing too.”
“Okay.”
“Two orders of tacos?” The man aimed the question at him.
“Yes.” Logan pulled out his wallet and counted his money as Charley worked the grill and kept up a steady stream of conversation.
“Here you go.” He slid a brown bag across the counter. “Have you been to the farmer’s market yet?”
“No. We had dinner on our mind.” Logan picked up the bag.
“I hear you. But after you eat, you should stroll through the market. We have it every Friday from four to eight during the summer months, and you’ll find all kinds of goodies. You could even pick up some lavender shortbread for dessert.”
Logan’s spirits took a decided uptick. “Jeannette’s here?”
“Every week. Her booth is always popular.” Charley motioned toward the sole empty bench on the wharf, where two seagulls were perched. “Floyd and Gladys saved you the best seat in the house for dinner. Enjoy.”
“Thanks.” Logan took Molly’s hand and eyed the bench. Given the number of people milling about, there wasn’t much chance it would stay empty until they got there.
But Molly tugged him that direction, and he followed. If someone claimed the bench first, they could always take the tacos home and forget the farmer’s market.
Except that would also mean foregoing a visit with Jeannette.
Not happening if he could help it.
Logan lengthened his stride until Molly had to trot to keep up with him.
Happily, the bench remained empty, and as they drew close, the two gulls vacated the seat.
Like they’d been saving it for them, as Charley had said.
Which was crazy.
Whatever the reason they’d lucked out, though, he wasn’t going to complain. Eating fabulous fish tacos on a bench with an incredible view was sweet.
And for dessert?
They’d drop by Jeannette’s booth, as Charley had suggested.
Also sweet.
He doled out the tacos and bit into his, scanning the festive scene behind him.
Which booth was Jeannette’s—and would she be glad to see them?
Hard to say.
In all his comings and goings over the past week, he hadn’t caught a glimpse of his elusive neighbor. She must prefer to keep to herself, as Charley had implied.
Nor had he had much chance to think about her since Molly’s meltdown at the preschool.
But once the daycare situation was resolved, Jeannette would be back on his mind. Guaranteed. She was an intriguing woman—and easy on the eyes too.
In fact . . . after life settled into more of a routine, maybe he’d give her the nudge Charley had said she might need to coax her out of her self-imposed isolation. See where that led.
And in the meantime, it couldn’t hurt to lay a little groundwork.
11
Only an hour and a half into opening day of the farmer’s market, and her booth was almost sold out.
She’d vastly underestimated the demand for her products.
Jeannette did a rapid calculation of her remaining inventory as her latest customers walked away with the items they’d purchased.
Sixteen sachets, two lavender grapevine wreaths left over from last season, five lavender scones, and three six-packs of lavender shortbread hearts.
In another half hour—or less—she’d be reduced to handing out flyers about her weekend teas.
Taking a long swig from her water bottle, she surveyed the milling crowd.
Who knew the whole town would turn out for this season’s kickoff? At her first opening day last year, there’d been far fewer people, and her sales had been much more modest.
Of course, it had rained that day, while this year’s ideal weather had probably brought area residents out in droves.
Lesson learned for next year.
As she spread out her remaining items to make the offerings appear less sparse, she caught sight of a family group approaching.
The Shabos had ventured to the market?
Good for them.
Smiling, she motioned them over. “Hello.”
Mariam returned the greeting as they drew near. “Pretty.” She swept a hand over the filmy lavender draping and large photos of the farm and her teas that decorated the booth.