Everywhere his gaze fell he saw lush, green life. An endless field of vegetables stretched into the distance, dotted with customers picking their own bounty, filling basket upon basket. The wooden stall by the gate where Stella was selling her honey was filled to the brim with jars of amber liquid and plastic bags filled with homemade scones. He could smell the fresh herb garden overflowing with lavender, rosemary and thyme, and the bare remnants of a bountiful basil patch, settling into dormancy for the coming winter.
Overhead, bees buzzed and butterflies fluttered, darting in and around the trees, flowers and vegetables, dancing from leaf to leaf, bloom to blossom.
“Takes your breath away, doesn’t it?”
Roman glanced over his shoulder to where a dark-haired man stood, a dishtowel and chipped plate in his hand. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“City guy, huh?” The man chuckled. “Can spot them a mile away. I used to be one. Xander Costas.” He held out his hand, which Roman accepted. “Nice to meet you, Chief.”
“I didn’t realize I was wearing a name tag.”
“Your reputation does precede you.” Xander nodded. “Calliope’s fixing breakfast if you’re hungry. Come on in.”
“I don’t want to impose. I was just hoping to meet up with the mayor this morning.”
“Calliope mentioned that. I’m heading up there in about an hour. You’re welcome to come with me. Gil can be a bit slippery to catch.”
No kidding. Seemed every time Roman came close to tracking the good mayor down, the man disappeared minutes before Roman arrived. He felt the wrapper of the protein bar crunch in his pocket as he went into the house, but all thoughts of it melted away at the aroma of fresh-baked biscuits. The long wooden table was filled with an array of fruits. Dried herbs hung from the hand-strung wooden racks above; the planks beneath his feet were homey and worn. Persimmons, oranges and apples surrounded him, along with wreaths of fall flowers and corn husks in varying degrees of craftiness.
“Sit, Roman. Please,” Calliope urged. “Make yourself at home. It’s a bit of chaos right now with Thanksgiving coming.”
“Should I take off my shoes?” He only now noticed Xander was as barefoot as his wife and Stella.
“If you’d like.” Calliope’s voice was as melodious as the bells she wore in her long, red hair. “Most of the time I simply forget to put them on.”
“Easy habit to form,” Xander told him from across the table. “My sister Alethea still teases me about our barefoot wedding.”
“Alethea teases you about a great many things.” Calliope stopped long enough to press a kiss to the top of his head. “And you deserve every one of them. Would you prefer strawberry or apricot jam, Roman?”
“Either sounds delicious.” With all the twinkle lights and scents of fall, Roman felt as if he’d fallen into some kind of fairy world. “I appreciate the invitation.” He leaned closer to the coffee and inhaled the rich brewed scent. “Ah, man. Now that’s good.”
“Same blend as they serve at the diner,” Xander told him. “I talked Holly into sharing her secret.”
“She gave us a significant supply as a wedding gift,” Calliope added. “Which reminds me, Xander, we need to get going on that Christmas gift for Zoe and Jacob.”
“Right. I just want to consult with Simon before I lock in the final plans.” Xander glanced at Roman. “Holly and Luke’s twins. Calliope’s Jacob’s godmother. She wants to build them a custom playground in their backyard.”
“Sounds time-consuming.”
“It will be. The trick will be surprising them with it.”
“We’ll find a way. We always do.” Calliope set a platter of steaming biscuits on the table. “Those look incredible.” Roman spoke so they wouldn’t hear his stomach growl. He’d been delighted last night to find the station house refrigerator stocked with casseroles, meat loaf and, his personal favorite, a pot of homemade macaroni and cheese, but that seemed ages ago now. “Thank you. If you need any help with the construction, say the word. I’ve overseen a number of playground projects over the years. I might be able to give you some pointers.”
“You see?” Calliope smoothed a hand over Xander’s T-shirt–clad shoulder. “I told you we’d find a way. Kendall MacBride is on board, as well. She’s our local handywoman, and she’s already built one before for her stepdaughter, Phoebe. Among the three of you, I’d say the project is in excellent hands.”