“Your favorite is cobbler, as I recall.”
“Now my mouth is watering.” He pointed his container toward the shade. “Why don’t I take a look over there and see how ripe the berries are? You haven’t been there yet, have you?”
“Not yet.”
He set off, picking his way through the low bushes, skirting the anthill. Felicity watched him, wondering if she looked as at ease out here as he did. It was familiar territory, but it had been years since either of them had picked wild blueberries.
“Do you know what to do?” she called to him.
He glanced up at her as he crouched by a cluster of low bushes. “Nothing to it.”
“I have bug spray if you need it.”
“So far, so good.”
But in five minutes, he’d attracted a mosquito, and she tossed him the repellent. The weather turned hot quickly, but they managed to get a quart and a half of ripe blueberries between the two of them. “Enough for cobbler, muffins and a small batch of pancakes,” she said.
“Can’t go wrong.”
He stood straight, stretching out his lower back and surveying the field. “It’s easy to forget how pretty it is out here. I haven’t hiked up Carriage Hill since high school.”
“You can see Quabbin from the top.”
“I remember. Have you hiked to the summit since you moved back here?”
She shook her head. “Not since high school, either. Want to go?”
“Sure, why not? Did you bring water?”
“I did. I noticed you didn’t, but I’ll share.”
They left the blueberries on a rock in the shade and headed across the field to a trail that would lead them up the hill, all the way to the top with its spectacular views. They’d done the hike many times as teenagers, and she’d done it with her parents and brother. There’d been times she’d wondered—hoped—there was more to life than a hike up a hill, but her attitude had softened since then. She knew it was being here with Gabe, too. For now, she wanted to let herself enjoy his company without propelling herself into the past or the future.
“I parked at Olivia’s place,” he said as they paused at a steep section of the trail. “Maggie was there. She’s waiting for Brandon to get back from the White Mountains with his adventure travel clients. She’s preparing lunch for everyone. She invited us.”
“You told her I was here?”
“She saw you pass by. She was already at the house.”
“I didn’t notice her vehicle.”
“She walked down from the barn. Olivia and Dylan are waiting there for the adventurers.” Gabe’s gaze settled on Felicity. “I’m seeing Dylan later on.”
“About what?”
He gave a slight grin. “I knew you’d ask.”
“Saying I’m nosey?”
“Interested. He and I have business to discuss.”
“Ah. Intriguing.”
“We’ll see.”
She thought he might continue with more information, but he didn’t. “You’re figuring out what’s next for you. You’re ready.”
“I am ready. You’re good at what you do, Felicity.”
“But it’s what I do,” she said. “It’s not who I am.”
He took a drink from her water bottle and handed it back to her. “Let’s go.”
They reached the top of Carriage Hill in another ten minutes. Breathing hard, sweating, Felicity stood atop a rounded boulder and looked out at the view of the valley, flooded decades ago to create the reservoir. The waters continued for miles out of sight, behind more hills.
“Hard to believe we’re supposed to get rain later today.”
“Perfect weather to make blueberry cobbler,” Gabe said next to her.
She glanced at him and noticed he didn’t look winded. Whatever he did day-to-day, his schedule had to include exercise. She wasn’t particularly winded, either, but she could feel the lack of sleep in her muscles.
They didn’t linger on the summit. For one thing, lunch beckoned. For another—Felicity couldn’t explain it. She wanted to be around him and didn’t want to. She knew he’d leave. She knew they couldn’t be friends the way they’d once been friends, not just because of last night. Because of everything. Swimming, talking, sitting by the fire, their families and friends, Knights Bridge itself, their memories of growing up there. She embraced all of it, without any of the anger and hurt of three years ago.
Gabe was quiet on the hike back down the hill. They fetched their blueberries, but he nodded toward the inn. “Shall we join Maggie and company for lunch?”
“I should get back.”
“You said in your note you’re taking today off.”
“Sort of. I added that in parentheses. Plus there’s cleaning and laundry and errands.”
“All right. I’ll meet you there and help.”
She tilted her head back and eyed him. “When’s the last time you cleaned and did laundry?”
He grinned. “Doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how.”
But he’d called her bluff, and he knew it. Felicity smiled. “Lunch at Carriage Hill sounds great.”
* * *
Brandon Sloan arrived at the Farm at Carriage Hill in time for lunch. He looked sweaty, rugged and happy—not just to see his wife and their sons, Felicity knew, but because he’d been off doing something he loved. He’d walked down to the antique house after seeing his adventure travelers off, on their way back home to their jobs and lives.
“How are the White Mountains?” Maggie asked him as she set out a simple meal of salads, cold meat, rolls and ginger cookies.
“Gorgeous. I found a great spot to take you and the boys.”
“Oh, my favorite thing, climbing tall mountains with my food spoiling and my clothes sticking to my back, no bathroom, no—”
“It’s an inn we can use as a base for day hikes.”
She grinned at her husband. “Now you’re talking. But I’d hike with you. You know that.”
“Only because you know I’d carry your pack,” Brandon said, clearly amused. “The inn’s nice, but it’s not as grand as where I stayed with Noah and Dylan after our big hike last summer.”
“It doesn’t have to be grand if it has running water and a flush
