Rafe gave me a long look. “Fine,” he said, sighing. “Just be careful, okay? And no saying that you always are, because I know you’re not.”

Like he was one to talk. I smiled, gave him a kiss, and half an hour later, I was standing in the Breece Farms retail barn. Given the season, I’d expected to see only a handful of things for sale. “Wow,” I said softly, blinking at the offerings. “You guys have a lot going on.”

I wasn’t just saying that to make conversation. I really was surprised. In addition to the expected maple syrup and early lettuce, there were radishes and tiny carrots. There were also all sorts of cheeses, yogurt, milk, and cream. Plus there were cooked products: breads in all shapes, sizes, and flavors. Quiches. Muffins. Brownies. I found myself so drawn to a bag of no-bake cookies that it was clear they were coming home with me. Not that one hundred percent of them would make it all the way back to Chilson.

A fortysomething woman at the register, who I took to be Ian’s wife, smiled. “Wish more people would say that. And you look familiar. You’re from around here?”

Two short introductions later, I handed her my cookies and obligatory bag of lettuce for her to ring up. “The produce you and Ian supply for Three Seasons is outstanding. Or at least that’s what Kristen says.”

Felicia, for that was her name, smiled again. “Kind of her.”

“Do you make home deliveries?” I asked, nodding at the two silver pickup trucks just outside.

She shook her head. “No, we don’t have the staff for that. We have a few pickup locations, though, if you’re interested in subscribing for a season of fruits and vegetables.”

“I’ll talk to my fiancé.” Because it was a good idea. “So Ian doesn’t make any deliveries out to Trout Lake?” To the Mattocks’ cottage.

Felicia gave me the “I already told you this” look and said politely, “Sorry, no. Matter of fact, I can’t think of the last time we were out there. It’s a pretty drive, but we don’t have any reason to go that way, if you know what I mean.” She bagged my goodies and ran my credit card. “Speaking of pretty, you should take a walk out back. We made a trail that circles our property and last year we planted a zillion crocus bulbs all along it. They’re at peak bloom right now.”

Since the day was fine and I still had no desire to help with drywall, after putting my purchases in the car—all except for the one cookie that I took to provide sustenance during my hike—I followed the arrows that said trail.