a small spark of life lit up somewhere deep inside the darkest place in Avery’s heart.
What had seemed like a good idea earlier that morning was really just a sack of zucchini in the light of day.
Isaac could have kicked his own ass for not coming up with a better ruse for stopping by to check on Avery Abbott after the night they’d spent in each other’s company. A week had passed since that strange night—the slowest week of his life. He’d only been able to go through the motions during that time, each task permeated with thoughts of a woman unlike any other he’d ever met.
But still...zucchini? Anyone would be able to see through his excuse. The vegetable was insanely easy to grow, even in a dry-as-a-bone Texas summer like the one they were having—they were so good at growing that anyone within a hundred miles of Peach Leaf who wanted the vegetables already had enough to feed an army. People could only stand so many salads and breads and desserts with the stuff snuck in. But, for some knuckleheaded reason, Isaac had decided that bringing a bag of the green things would pass as a decent excuse to visit his neighbor’s farm.
Yes, that’s correct, he thought. I’m bringing a crap ton of zucchini...to a farm. He shook his head. Hell, it might have come from that very farm, he noted with a sinking sensation in his belly.
With so many well-meaning locals—overwhelmingly widows and grannies...and widowed grannies—dropping off food at his place on a regular basis, he lost track of its origins. He didn’t hold it against all the sweet gals, but once in a while, it was enough to make him consider moving to Austin, where a thirtysomething bachelor wasn’t likely to turn so many heads.
He pulled his four-wheeler into Tommy and Macy’s drive, careful to watch out for free-range chickens and goats. He got out and Jane jumped down from her perch on the seat in front of him, hightailing it up the porch steps. As the front door swung open, the scent of something sweet cooking wafted out into the already warm air.
“Hey, Janie girl,” Tommy said, scratching the dog between her ears before she invited herself into the house. “Hey, bud,” he said, turning to Isaac and heading down the steps, cup of coffee in hand.
“Mornin’, Tom,” Isaac said, returning the greeting as he reached into the seat compartment to pull out the embarrassing sack of vegetables.
Tommy’s eyebrows rose up so far they almost met the brim of his straw Stetson. When Isaac just stood there, holding the offending sack away from him like a baby with a dirty diaper, realization crossed Tommy’s features and he started to slowly back away, holding up a hand. “Aw, no way, man. Macy’s got so many of those damn things. If she strung all the little bastards together, they’d reach the moon and back.”
Isaac cursed and swung the bag over his shoulder, feeling more and more like a complete idiot.
“What in the world were you thinking bringing those things here?” Tommy continued, keeping his distance. “You lost your ever-lovin’ mind, my friend?” He took a long sip of his coffee, clearly waiting for a response.
The two men had been good friends ever since Isaac inherited his grandma’s property and moved in to the old ranch house. They were living proof that opposites really do attract. Isaac, who wasn’t usually keen on too much chatter, had taken an instant liking to his neighbor, despite the fact that the man never shut his mouth and could carry on a conversation with just about anybody or anything. His easygoing habit of yakking made Isaac comfortable, mostly because he didn’t have to say much for them to get along just fine, and, well, Tommy was just so damn nice. Also, it was obvious that the man doted on his family, as if Macy had hung the moon, and their two little ones, all the stars in the sky.
It was exactly the kind of family Isaac had always pictured having himself one day. If only he could find the right girl. Someone who wouldn’t mind his quiet nature and his shyness around new people. Someone, maybe, kind of like Avery Abbott—his true reason for dropping by.
“Oh, just forget about those things and come on in. Macy’s got breakfast on. But, if you think it’s just flour, milk and sugar in those waffles, guess again. It’s like I said before, that girl has stuffed those green devils into everything we’ve eaten in the past month because she hates to waste them, and, I’m telling you, at least fifty more popped up in her garden overnight.”
Isaac smiled at his friend’s happy chatter.
“Don’t be surprised if next time you stop by, I’ve turned into one of ’em.” Tommy stopped suddenly at the top of the steps. “What’d you say you dropped by for, again?” He lifted up his white hat and scratched his forehead. “Not that you need a reason. Just want to make sure you don’t leave here empty-handed if you were needing something—”
“Tom?” Isaac said quietly, seeking a brief break in his friend’s out-loud thinking.
“—Macy would never let me hear the end of it if—”
“Tom!”
He finally turned around, a sleepy smile on his face. Isaac had never known his friend to wear any other expression.
“What’s on your mind, bud?”
Now that he had Tom’s attention, Isaac hesitated, unsure what can of worms he might risk opening if he answered the question truthfully.
He knew Tom was protective of Avery beyond what would be expected of a brother, and he could understand why. From what he’d seen the other night, what folks said about her time in service, and from the way she seemed to socialize far less than other locals, he could guess that she’d come back from war bearing a few scars—the kind you couldn’t see with a good pair of eyes.
The jumpiness he’d witnessed in her that night and her disorientation in an area she was familiar with were textbook post-trauma symptoms. He recognized them from the vets he trained service dogs for, and from—the memory still ached in a part of Isaac’s heart that he knew would never heal—from his brother. Which was why he’d avoided visiting the farm and his friends the past few months since he’d heard that Avery moved in. Working with PTSD victims in his job was one thing—watching his friend’s sister struggle through it was entirely another.
She needed help. More help than whatever Veteran Affairs currently provided, more help than her family would know how to give her, regardless of how much they loved and supported her.
Isaac knew, better than most, that love wasn’t always enough.
Love couldn’t always save someone.
So, as much as it might cost him in the long run, Isaac decided it was best to be open with Tom, for Avery’s sake. He’d just have to make sure Macy didn’t read too much into his visit, or she’d be on his case, and he’d find himself being set up again, only to turn up disappointed if it didn’t work out.
The other night, despite her condition, he could feel the electric hint of possibility between them, and he couldn’t deny that she was the prettiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on—but for now, all he wanted to do was help.
He set his shoulders back and held up a hand to shade his brow against the first rays of the rising sun. The day was already plenty warm, and he could tell it would be a hot one.
“Actually, yeah. There is something on my mind. Two things,
