Harvest of Love: Insta-Spark Collection

“I’m right here, Sprout. You can do this. Remember your breathing exercises and the end goal. Three steps. Go in. Sign the papers. Clear out your office.” He tightened his hold. “You’re not staying. This is just a few moments, then we’ll head back to the place you belong.”

Turning my head into his coat, I breathed in a long, calming breath. His scent soothed me; his touch grounded me. He was right. This was the last step in this journey.

I had called HR to inform them of my decision not to return. I was shocked when I was told the company had a severance package for me and extended my benefits for another six months. Mrs. Tremblay gave me a choice—come in, pick up the severance package and payment, and clean out my office during business hours, or she could arrange to meet me after hours. I chose six o’clock, knowing many of the staff would have left, but it wasn’t too late that I would keep her from going home at a reasonable hour. I relaxed when she assured me that I would only see her and Lynn. “Martin will not be in the building. He asked me to express his thanks for your hard work and wish you well.”

I straightened my shoulders. “Let’s go.”

Inside, we headed to my old office. Lynn was waiting, flinging her arms around me and hugging me hard.

“I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.”

“Can I come see you now? I won’t talk shop, but I miss you.”

I was surprised but pleased. “I’d like that—but I’m not living in Toronto anymore.”

She grinned. “Not a big surprise. Give me your new number when you get it, and I’ll call.”

Mrs. Tremblay came out of my office.

“I’ll take Noah in and show him your stuff,” Lynn offered.

I nodded. There wasn’t much—I had only brought a small box with me.

Mrs. Tremblay was all business and kept it short and sweet, explaining the package and the benefits. I signed the paperwork, handed her my pass card, keys, and cell phone. She came to the office with me, where Lynn and Noah were talking quietly. Lynn looked up.

“There wasn’t much. A few toiletries, your stress balls, and a couple of blouses and a pair of shoes in the cupboard. You had a couple of knickknacks on the shelf. Have I missed anything?”

I glanced around, noting it didn’t look like anything had been removed. I met Noah’s knowing gaze. Another familiarity between us. I checked my drawers, then shook my head. “No, that’s all.”

We left the office, Lynn following us. At the elevator, Mrs. Tremblay shook my hand. “Best of luck, Danica.”

I wasn’t used to hearing myself called that name anymore. I smiled and thanked her, then hugged Lynn again. “Call me—or better yet, come see me.”

“I will.”

We stepped in, and Noah took my hand, holding it tight. The doors shut, and he glanced my way.

“Okay, Sprout?”

I huffed out a long breath. “Take me home, Noah.”

He smiled. “My plan exactly.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Noah

Dani padded into the kitchen, running a hand through her hair. Her tresses were chaotic and messy this morning. I grinned at her from the stove as I flipped her favorite stuffed French toast.

“Don’t think you’re going to get it to lie flat, Sprout. I think that’s my fault.”

“You were rather handsy last night,” she agreed, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

“You were rather beautiful. I couldn’t help myself.”

She poured a cup of coffee, spying the empty plate on the counter. “Found your treat I left you?”

I nodded. “Last night’s desserts were spectacular. What an awesome way to end the season. Mom said the voice mail was full this morning with people asking if they could buy them for the holidays. Both the cranberry-cherry pie and chocolate-caramel cheesecake. I can’t decide which is my favorite.”

“Oh,” Dani hummed, looking pleased. “I could do that.”

Dani was always looking for ways to “contribute.” Leaving her job had been a huge step for her—even scarier than it had been for me when I’d made that decision. Dani was used to being on her own and having no one to depend on, whereas I knew I had my family, as well as the fact that I had a very large nest egg to fall back on. She’d sold her townhouse with a small profit since she’d only had it for a few years. With her severance package and the monies she’d saved, she was okay, but it wasn’t enough to carry her for any length of time if she would have been on her own.

But she wasn’t on her own, and I planned on taking care of her—as much as she would allow me. She wanted to pay her “fair share” of the bills, so I insisted she had to be paid for her work in return. She was everywhere on the farm, helping. In the store, the restaurant, working in the greenhouses. Making jams and preserves with Mom, cheese with Ella. We reached a compromise, and every month she went over the numbers with me, making sure they were fair. And as always, she was more worried about the bottom line than I was. She huffed every time I crossed out a number and added to it on her side of the column, but she’d stopped fighting me. She secretly made me smile, and I loved her independent streak.