Hinted: Moonlit Lake Matchmaker, #1

By Kristeen Groth

My life needed a time-out. Or a do-over.

 

After my dream of taking New York by storm as a fashion designer dramatically imploded in one fell swoop—culminating with a warm splat on my head—I realized if the city had no more love for me, I might as well go home.

 

Returning to Moonlit Lake feeling like a failure was bad enough, but when I walked into the local bar, the first thing I saw was the love of my life, Rowan, whom I hadn't seen in fourteen years, on his knee proposing to someone else.

 

Not exactly the welcome home I expected.

 

Letting him go the first time was my biggest regret. One I never got over. I'd do whatever it took to get him back. Maybe opening a clothing boutique in town would show Rowan I was back to stay, and prove I wasn't a failure.

 

Starting over in my hometown wouldn't be easy, but surely my luck was changing. When you've hit rock bottom and washed the pigeon poop out of your hair, things can only get better, right?

 

Wrong!

 

Hinted is a sweet, second chance, romantic comedy with small-town charm, a meddling matchmaker, swoony kisses, and a touch of mystery. All the fun and feels, without the spice or swears. For lovers of Emma St Clair and Sariah Wilson.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Feathers & Hearts Press
• Release date: Aug 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223801337

Book preview

Chapter 1

ROWAN

PRESENT DAY ~ MOONLIT LAKE, MN

Box of veggies held tight under one arm, I took a swig of water from my bottle then set it on the porch railing to knock on Tillie’s door.

Rowan needs a wife.

Water sprayed out of my mouth. What? They were talking about me? I set the veggies down and pressed my ear to the warm wooden door and wiped my face with the back of my hand.

Tillie’s words made my chest tighten with indignation. What in the world?

Sure, I loved the farm and wanted a partner someday, but getting married hadn’t really been a priority. Too many other things to deal with. Working the land all day, I was dead tired come nightfall.

I leaned against the wall next to the door, and my gaze floated across the backyard and Tillie’s gardens. Spring bulbs and flowers were blooming, but most things were either still dormant or just starting to poke through the soil. Leaves were emerging on the trees. This was my favorite time of year—a hopeful time. At least it was if I ignored my bleak personal life.

Tillie Devine was more like a grandma than a neighbor to me and had been one of the most influential people in my life. I brought her fresh produce, eggs, and cheese, at least once a week, depending on what I had available. Visiting her was usually the highlight of my week, which didn’t say much about my social calendar.

But who was she talking to? About me? Should I interrupt? Keep listening?

My mom’s voice carried through the screen door. I know, Tillie. He’s thirty-four already and still very single. Rob and I had five kids by the time I was his age. I’m starting to wonder if I’ll ever get any grandchildren.

Here we go. The grandchildren thing again. I was tempted to drop Tillie’s box of veggies right there on the porch and leave.

One of Tillie’s workers was weed-whipping her yard near the building where I stood. The buzzing noise made it so I couldn’t make out everything that was said. One part I caught stopped me cold.

Tell him about a special clause in the trust. Before he runs out of time.

My jaw tightened. My teeth clenched. What was Mom talking about?

Tillie gasped. Honey, that’s horrible.

Oh, I know. I’m just—that blasted weed-whipper buzzed right next to the step, drowning out what Mom was saying—if he doesn’t marry by the time he’s thirty-five, it goes to the next in line.

You mean, he’d have to marry right away or lose everything? Tillie asked.

Yep. Wouldn’t that… Buzzzz. 

Ugh. Wasn’t that guy done yet? And doesn't he realize I can’t eavesdrop with all his noise?

Thankfully, the worker moved on to the flower gardens, and I brought my ear to the door to listen in again.

Tillie said, Willowbrook Farm means everything to Rowan. He’d never let it slip away from him. What a dreadful thought. 

If the wall hadn’t been holding me up, I’d have fallen over. I couldn’t have heard her right. I could lose the farm if I didn’t get married in the next year? This farm was my life. How could they do this to me?

My body felt numb and heavy, and my breathing ceased for longer than is likely good for a living human being. My heart thundered in my neck and my face felt hot.

Anger. Betrayal. Disbelief. All pulsed through my veins.

It took a couple minutes for me to calm down enough to walk in the door, and every ounce of my control to hold in all I was thinking and feeling. Yes, I wanted marriage, kids, the whole shebang. Someday. I envisioned having a family on the farm, like my parents did, but I didn’t want to be pressured into it. I would get to it in my own time and on my terms. 

Besides, I had my reason for avoiding relationships.

But if this was true, and I did have to marry to keep the farm, I sure didn’t want my mom or Tillie matchmaking for me. No way. They meddled in my life on a daily basis. I wasn’t about to let them try to find me a wife. It was best to keep this unsolicited information to myself and pretend I hadn’t heard anything. 

Hey Tillie. I brought you some goodies. I placed the box of food on her table, then using my best poker face, I greeted my mom. Mom. I didn’t realize you’d be here.

Tillie needed a little extra help restocking her inventory of herbal products, so I offered to help out. Mom tried to play it off like nothing was amiss. She barely looked at me and was focusing solely on her task. 

Mom stood next to Tillie at the counter, pulling leaves off the stems for Tillie to grind. My mother was a natural beauty with her long curly hair tied back at the nape of her neck. Never one to care about makeup or how she looked, she was all about comfort and practicality. Her honey blonde hair was streaked with silver, but she looked as beautiful as ever.

Tillie ground herbs with her mortar and pestle. She was a tiny sprite of a woman with her white hair cut straight across just below her chin. Her face lit up when she saw me. Rowan, what a sweetheart you are. One of these days, some lucky woman is going to snatch you up, and what a wonderful husband you’ll be, just like your dad. 

I bristled, fighting hard not to react.

Mom’s brow lifted, and her head cocked as she waited for my response. 

I decided to school my emotions and pretend I hadn’t heard a thing. I don’t know about that, Tillie. The farm keeps me plenty busy.

Tillie clucked and shook her head in dismay. Oh, I’m sure it does, but the farm won’t keep you warm at night. You need a good woman by your side.

I had to admit, a restlessness and a yearning had been building inside me, and I didn’t know how to handle it. But I wanted to make that decision, not have it forced upon me.

Tillie wiped her hands on a cloth, tapped her finger against her lips, and pointed to me. I was thinking about this just this morning while I was drawing my oracle cards for the day.

Even though I didn’t completely buy into all of Tillie’s mystical ways, I was curious to see if her cards could help make sense of this madness.

Oh, yeah? And what did the all-knowing oracle say? I hope it was good. If not, maybe you could reshuffle to find me a better future. 

She tossed her kitchen towel at me. I caught it before it landed in my face. It’s not nice to tease an old lady, Rowan. Don’t you know that?

Mom laughed and continued her prep work. 

But you’re not old, Tillie. You’re ageless, and you have the energy of someone a quarter your age. I don’t believe the normal rules of human physiology apply to you. I’m not even sure you’re human. Maybe you’re fae and immortal.

She laughed, her voice jingling like bells. Oh, wouldn’t that be fun? Imagine all the adventures I’d have… and all the matches I could make. She winked at me, and I restrained my eye roll. The last thing I needed was Tillie messing with my love life. My mom was bad enough. 

I needed to distract her in hopes she’d forget about my life. Adventures. What adventures would you go on if your fabulous self lived forever, Tillie?

Tillie was a hoot. Nobody really knew how old she was because she wouldn’t tell, but Mom suspected she was in her eighties, maybe even nineties. You couldn’t tell by looking at her, though. And I never knew what she’d be doing or what would come out of her mouth when I visited. Never a dull moment with Tillie.

I’ll have to give that some thought. She looked upward for inspiration, a wistful expression adorning her face. I’ve always imagined it’d be fun to skydive or hang-glide over a tropical island like Hawaii or Bali, where I could enjoy the view of the mountains, rainforests, and ocean below me. That would be heavenly. 

The blissful look in her eyes made me wish I could grant her wish. But she’d be booking a flight with the smallest encouragement. I opened my mouth to tell her how dangerous something like that would be for someone her age. 

Another thing I’d like to try… Tillie’s face lit up like the sun. I saw a video on TikTok of a woman doing the most beautiful aerial yoga routine hanging from silk scarves, and I thought that would be glorious. Don’t you agree? Maybe I’ll do that. Can you imagine me spinning around in the air with colorful scarves whirling all around me? Her eyes sparkled with delight as she twirled around the room with her arms out wide. Then she stopped, and her extended finger caught another idea. Oh, and I’ve also seen them do some of the most spectacular dances spinning around a pole.

I coughed at the thought of Tillie pole-dancing and rubbed my eyes to delete the image now seared into my brain. 

Tillie turned to my mom. Honey, we should find a class to learn how to do that. Do you think one of your girls would know? Maybe we could make it a girls’ night out. She clapped her hands.

Mom laughed, shaking her head. I’m not sure I’m up for that. My luck, I’d fall and break a hip and you’d have to carry me off the stage.

Nonsense. You’re almost sixty years old. About time for you to let loose.

I had six babies, Tillie. I know how to let loose just fine, but with my feet firmly planted on the ground, thank you.

Okay. Time to change the subject. I put my arm around Tillie and gave her a gentle squeeze. Don’t you always say life is an adventure, Tillie? It’s all in how you live it.

Yes, you’re quite right. When you’re in the energy of love and joy, even the most mundane tasks can feel like an adventure. A lot of that depends on who you’re with. Which brings me back to finding someone for you to share your life with, someone who brings joy and love to your life. She smiled warmly and patted my cheek. I’m so glad you came by today. Aren’t you curious about what the cards said?

I’m curious, Mom said. If he doesn’t want to know, you can tell me.

Hush, Honey. This is Rowan’s reading, not yours, Tillie scolded, waving her off.

Even though it was nearly impossible to dissuade Tillie once she set her mind on something, I had to try. I’m not sure, Tillie. Isn’t it better to live in the moment with surprise and wonder about what might happen? 

The cards won’t predict your future. They’ll just give you hints about your direction. Seems to me like you could use a little direction. Wouldn’t you agree?

The need to do something, to make a change in my life, had been growing stronger lately. My parents talked about retiring and traveling the world, leaving me in charge of the farm. I didn’t want to do this alone. I wanted a partner to share the load. Besides that, I was lonely. I had no intention of remaining a bachelor my entire life, and this was a family farm, meant for a family. It was my responsibility to keep it that way.

At least, that’s what I thought before I heard about the trust. 

It still blew my mind that they kept this from me. It didn’t make sense.

The urge to ask about this warred with my need to process and handle this in my own time, without anyone else interfering. 

I would do my duty to protect the farm, but I’d do it in my own way. This was my decision, and I didn’t want everyone else in my life weighing in on it. The plight of being a part of a big family in a small town.  

The mental turmoil was already wearing on me. I groaned. Fine, what does the mighty oracle say about my life?

Come over here, and I’ll show you. Tillie grabbed my arm and led me to a table on the other side of the room. It displayed a lit candle and an assortment of crystals surrounding three cards lying face up in a row. 

The first one read, Make a Decision.

The second said, Heal the Past. 

And the last one said, Seed the Future.

So, what comes to mind when you see these cards? Tillie clutched her hands to her chest, her brows almost disappearing into her hairline in expectation.

I studied the card a little longer. These messages could mean a lot of different things.

Right. But what do they mean to you? she prodded.

The words that came to my mind as soon as she said that was… the decision to get married. I definitely wasn’t going to admit that to her or my mom, especially not after what I’d overheard. So I shrugged. I don’t know, Tillie. What do you think it means?

It seems to be hinting that it’s time for you to settle down, let go of the pain that’s kept you stuck, and plant seeds for the future you want.

Whoa. 

Her interpretation sucked the air right out of my chest. My mouth opened, but I lacked the words for a response.

Or maybe the seeds of the future were planted in the past. She patted me on the chest. Just follow your heart, and you’ll figure it out. You have a big heart, my boy, and a lot of love to give. Don’t give up too easily.

What do you mean?

That’s all I’m gonna say. I probably already said too much. Your path is what you choose it to be. I pray you’ll choose one filled with love and joy because that’s what life’s all about. You deserve love, you know.

I frowned at the cards. We don’t always get what we want or what we deserve, though. Do we? 

I said this to your mom years ago, and the same is true now. When we give up hope, we give up on life. Do you remember, Honey? 

My mom nodded. Yes, it was right after I met Rob and didn’t think I was good enough for him. 

Tillie looked me square in the eye. Don’t let your past disappointments determine your future, Rowan. They don’t deserve to drive your bus, so don’t give them the keys. 

Her words slammed into me like a brick to the chest. Regrets about my past and fears about my future collided. I stumbled back a couple of steps before regaining my balance and composure. I tried my best to hide my emotions, which wasn’t easy around these two. Time to make a quick exit. 

Tillie scurried off to the kitchen. Here, take some fresh muffins I made this morning.

I can never turn down your baked goods. I picked a muffin from the basket and lifted it in salute. Thanks, Tillie. This will be gone before I’m out of your yard.

Then take a couple more. I have plenty.

I leaned over and kissed her wrinkled cheek. This is all I need, Tillie. You don’t want me to get fat. Do you?

As if that were possible. You work so hard, you’ll burn it off in fifteen minutes.

Have a good day, Tillie. Bye, Mom. I’ll see you soon. I slipped out the door before Tillie fed me more. Or worse, gave me more advice.

The thing about her advice was that it was so on point it made me uncomfortable. Needless to say, I couldn’t take any more today. My mind was spinning as it was. 

A clause in the trust? About marriage? It seemed impossible. No one had said a thing to me about it. Anger crackled along my veins. I should confront my mom. No, I should talk to my dad. I shoved my trembling hands through my hair. I didn’t have time for any of that. I was almost thirty five, and apparently if I didn’t find a wife, I couldn’t have the farm. Marriage. I had to push all other feelings aside and focus on that.

I had to get married or lose the farm? The farm was my entire life. 

What am I going to do?

Years ago, I gave up on romantic ideas, knowing love was not part of my plan. The only person I ever considered a future with was long gone and never coming back. No, love was not in the cards for me, no matter what Tillie said. The risk was too high.

What if marriage didn’t have to be about love, but about common interests?

It would need to be someone who loved the farm and would be as invested in it as I was. Someone who would make a good partner and share the load with me. I gazed out over the land I loved so much. A woman with curly red hair blazing in the sunlight was herding the goats through the gate and into the next field for them to graze.

She lifted a hand to wave at me. 

I drove the cart over to talk to her through the fence. Hey, Becky. How’s everything going?

I’m about finished here. If only I could get the golden girls over there to give it up and join the others. She gestured toward the few stragglers who seemed content to stay where they were, uninterested in moving to the other pasture like the rest of the herd. Apparently, they don’t think the grass is greener on the other side.

A low chuckle tumbled out of me. You’ll talk ‘em into it. I have no doubt.

Becky Hader worked for us as a farmhand. She had a pleasant personality and was a hard worker. I appreciated that. She also had a way with goats that seemed almost magical.

Do you still need help harvesting lettuce and asparagus for the community boxes? she asked, her hand shielding her eyes from the sun as she looked up at me.

Yeah. I was headed over there now and could definitely use the help.

I’ll be there in a few. She smiled sweetly before returning to the stubborn goats. And if you’re nice to me, I’ll even put on my Texas Two-Step playlist. I know how much you love that.

I shook my head and groaned. I’d rather listen to the Chipmunks than that garbage.

Really? I can arrange that. She winked at me and hustled off toward the goats.

Becky and I got along well and had a comfortable camaraderie. The two of us had been on several dates over the last few months. We had a good time together and enjoyed each other’s company, but there was no spark. No chemistry. So it had never turned into anything serious. Then again, I wasn’t looking for a love connection anyway. 

If I had to choose someone to marry now, Becky seemed like the best candidate for wife and life partner. Even if it wasn’t a love match. Maybe she could help me move on and forget about the future I once dreamed of.

Chapter 2

ELLE

NEW YORK CITY, NY

Horns honked and people yelled, pushing and shoving along the sidewalk. A typical day in New York City. But not for me. 

Yeah, I might have been wallowing in a little self-pity as I stumbled along the sidewalk, being jostled and bumped around like I wasn’t even there.

I numbly waited at an intersection for the light to change. A taxi sped by, hitting a puddle just right, and splashed dirty water all over my front. Gah! I gasped. My arms were full, carrying all the belongings I’d cleared out of my desk. I couldn’t even wipe my face. I turned to commiserate with the others standing near me, as if I were back in Moonlit Lake. But this was not my hometown. This was New York City. Not only was I the only one who got splashed—New Yorkers knew to stand back, and on a normal day, I would have too—but they just walked around me and my soggy box like I was a piece of trash nobody wanted to step on.

Almost to the subway, I waited in the crowd trying to funnel into the stairway. But when the crowd flowed forward, I couldn’t. I must have stepped in something gooey. I dragged my foot, trying to scrape it off as I walked, but the wad of gum just spread across the entire sole of my shoe. My favorite Jimmy Choo’s… ruined.

I hobbled the rest of the way with my shoe sticking and picking up bits of city grime and debris along the way. At this rate, my shoe would probably be an inch taller by the time I got home.

 Just a couple blocks from my apartment, a flock of pigeons flew over. I felt a warm splat on my head. 

Seriously? Are you freaking kidding me? I shouted at the heavens. What do you want from me? All these years in the city, and thousands of pigeons everywhere, I’d never been pooped on, or even witnessed anyone else getting hit, for that matter. One of the great mysteries of this city.

Today, the city seemed to have it out for me.

I’d have looked up to see if there was a black cloud over my head, but I was afraid of being bombed by another pigeon. And with my luck it would hit me in the eye this time. 

Kicking the door of my apartment closed with my foot, I set the box filled with the contents of my desk on the table. The tears I held back all the way home on the subway finally released in a torrent. 

What a rotten day.

For five years, I had worked my way through the ranks to become a junior designer. My designs were finally going to appear in the upcoming line. I expected a promotion would come soon. 

But no. 

After all those eighty-hour weeks I put in, how did they reward me? By giving me the boot. 

And not the tall, black, Christian Louboutin boots I’d been coveting, either.

Fired. Ugh.

I poured myself a glass of wine and pulled up an employment site on my computer to try to figure out my next step. 

My vision blurred, and my throat felt so thick I struggled to swallow, which was further aggravated by the stomach acid burning a path from my clenching gut. Hopefully, the wine would help wash it all away. 

Let’s see what jobs are out there, shall we? I scrolled through job