Page 108 of Fall is Brewing

"And?"

A dry laugh slips out before I can stop it. I rub the back of my neck, watching Willa tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear as another customer steps up to the booth. "And sometimes the truth fixes things. But sometimes..." I trail off as Willa glances toward our booth. For one ridiculous second, hope flares. She blinks and gives me a shy, small smile. Then just as quickly, the smile drops and she turns back to the next customer. "...sometimes it just gives someone a reason to walk away."

Evan is quiet for a long moment. Long enough that I wonder if he's going to let it go. Instead, he folds his arms across his chest. "You think that's what she's doing?"

"I think she's trying not to get hurt."

"And you know that how?"

I smile without any real humor. "Because it's exactly what I'd do."

Evan studies me for another beat before shaking his head. "You know what your problem is?"

I let out a humorless huff. "You're going to have to be more specific. I have roughly three hundred and twelve of them."

"You keep deciding what other people are feeling before they get the chance to tell you."

I wince before I can stop myself, the sentence catching like a burr in my skin.

Because that's exactly what Willa accused me of upstairs in my cabin. Deciding for her.

I look back toward the Hartley booth.

She's helping an older couple choose between two bottles now, talking with her hands, completely absorbed in the conversation.

I wonder if she'll ever look at me like that again.

Evan bends down, pulling a manila folder from his bag. He sets it on the tasting table between us, weighing it down with one of the unopened cider bottles before the breeze can snatch it away.

"Speaking of… I looked over those plans," he says.

I glance down at the folder, then back at him. "And?"

He shrugs one shoulder, casual as ever. "I like them."

I look down at the plans again, my shoulders settling for the first time all morning. "Yeah?"

"I think it'll be good for the town." He pauses, watching a family wander toward the hayride. "More places for people to gather. More reasons to stay after they visit the orchards."

I nod slowly, my thumb tracing the edge of the folder.

"And Jace?" I ask.

Evan's mouth twitches. "He drew a breakfast burrito in the corner of your site plan."

I can't help laughing. "So... that's his official approval?"

"He said—and I'm quoting here—'As long as there's good coffee and Wi-Fi, I support the vision.'"

I shake my head. "Profound."

"He’s endlessly complex." Evan bumps my shoulder lightly with his own before his expression turns more serious. "For what it's worth..." He nods toward the folder. "I think Mom would've loved it.”

My gaze drops to the paperwork again. "Yeah," I say quietly. "I think she would've too."

“And Dad would have approved of the projections. Even the lawyers think it’s a good compromise.” Evan lets the silence sit for a beat before adding, "Now all you've got left to do..."

He glances across the street toward the Hartley booth where Willa is helping a little girl choose between apple cider donuts dusted with cinnamon sugar and the maple glazed ones.