Free Tess in Boots by Courtney Rice Gager

caught Thatcher’s eye. There was a discreet smile on his face as he looked at the boots, then back up at me, then at the boots again. I smiled in return , and then headed after Sara and Jake before he could see my cheeks turning red.
    I moved at a brisk pace to avoid small talk with Thatcher, but not so fast as to interrupt Sara and Jake’s whispered conversation. They walked with their arms linked and their heads tilted toward one another. I strained to hear them, but I couldn’t make out their words over the sound of the creek.
    When we reached the end of the path and neared the road, I ran ahead to put myself between them and the sign. “Wait!” I said.
    The three of them stopped walking and looked at me. I hadn’t thought about how I would unveil the sign, but it seemed like there should be some sort of fanfare involved. Or at the very least, an explanation.
    “I hope you don’t mind,” I said, “but I had a little something made up. Something to honor Carl. Something to let people know we’re here.”
    No one said anything. I couldn’t think of anything else to add, so I swept my hand in the direction of the sign and they stepped forward to read the lettering: Carl’s Creek Vineyard.
    For the longest time, everyone remained silent. I stood there, trying to gauge their reactions.
    Did I overstep?
    Finally , Sara turned to face me, her eyes wet with tears.
    I gave her an apologetic look. “ I should have asked first. I’m sorry.”
    “ No. It’s perfect.” Her voice was a soft whisper. “It’s absolutely perfect.”
    Jake smiled and gave her shoulders a squeeze. Thatcher nodded once , and then started back toward the barn, head down, hands shoved into his pockets.
    I looked after him, wondering whether I should follow. But before I could make up my mind, Sara came to my side and placed a gentle hand on my arm. “It’s fine. He just needs a minute.”
    I watched him disappear around the bend.

CHAPTER 9
     
    My eyelids were heavy after hours of staring at the laptop screen. It was raining outside, so I spent the entire day in the cottage finalizing the details of the website. Well, web page . So far, the site consisted of a single page with a few photos and some copy I wrote. But it was a decent start. You didn’t have to be a professional photographer to take beautiful pictures of Carl’s Creek. And, thanks to the years I’d spent planning my wedding to Logan, I was able to write a pretty convincing description of the place as an ideal wedding venue. I already set the website live and listed Jake’s cell as the contact phone number for inquiries. Tomorrow, I would get a few ads up online, and see about placing an ad in the local paper, too. Then, my work at the vineyard would be done. The rest would be up to Jake and Sara.
    It was perfect timing because Logan’s flight was scheduled to land in a few hours. Any minute, he’d call. Maybe even tonight. Who knew? With any luck, I could be the first bride to book Carl’s Creek. The thought made me smile. I tried to keep myself busy all day in an effort to avoid sitting around waiting for the phone to ring. But alone in the coziness of the cottage it was hard not think about Logan.
    It was good for me to spend the day alone, because it gave me a break from seeing Thatcher. And with him out of sight, I felt ridiculous for even entertaining the idea of my little crush to begin with. The love of my life was coming home. We shared a history together, a long-standing past. And I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of our future.
    There was a rap at the cottage door. I was so immersed in my thoughts, at first I wondered if I imagined the knock. But there it was again. Tap, tap, tap . I looked away from the computer and rubbed my eyes. Tap, tap, tap .
    “ Coming!” I pushed back my chair and walked over to the door, flinging it open. I was expecting to see Jake. Or Sara, maybe.
    But there stood Thatcher with two large paper bags in his arms. He