The Memory Keeper: A Heartwarming, Feel-Good Romance(67)

“Are you saying I should be here and not in New York?” she asked.

“I’m saying you should give yourself permission to be where you thrive the most.”

“I wish I knew for sure where that was.”

“You’ll figure it out. I have no doubt about that.”

“Wait a minute!” she said, beginning to pace the room as an idea came to her. “The magazine feature photos should depict how we find our people…” She rushed over to Gran’s bedside, kissing her. “You are amazing!” she said, giddy. “Thank you!”

Gran laughed. “I’m not sure what I’ve done, but you’re welcome.”



Hannah burst through the door of The Memory Keeper. She grabbed Georgia and spun her around, making Jerry bark and come tapping over to them, climbing Georgia’s leg.

“I have the best idea,” Hannah said. “I’ve had an awful time with this project at work, and I think I can fix everything, but I’ll need your help! And then I’ll be able to put all my focus on getting the shop ready for customers.”

“What is it?” Georgia asked.

“I need your photography skills. Would you help me?”

“Of course,” Georgia said. “What are we doing?”

“I have to call Liam. I want to ask him if you and I can come over and take photos of his family and Mary’s farm. I can already see about ten to twenty shots in my head,” she said. “The oak tree in the middle of the field, the front porch with its rocking chairs, all the hand-painted signs labeling each set of crops… There’s so much out there.”

“Call Liam to see if he’ll do it,” Georgia said, excited. “I’ll keep painting.”

Hannah dialed his number, pacing around eagerly. When he answered, she explained everything.

“He said yes! I’m going over right now to scout locations,” she told Georgia. “Once I have an idea of what I want, you and I can go shoot it. Sound good?”

“Absolutely. Somehow you’ve managed to get me a job as a photographer for Farmhouse Living,” she said with a squeal.

“If this works, you could be the lead photographer for Farmhouse Living.”

Georgia stared at her wide-eyed for a second, before slapping an excited hand over her mouth.

If Hannah’s hunch was correct, Georgia might have just helped save her career.



“Are y’all gonna be okay out there in the freezing cold?” Mary asked, folding her arms across her chest as she shivered while Hannah and Liam walked around the farmhouse.

“We’ll be fine, Mom,” he assured her. “We won’t be out that long.”

“All right,” Mary said. “I’ll put on a pot of coffee for when you two come in.”

“Thanks,” Hannah told her, while she opened the sketchpad she’d bought on the way over to a clean page.

“Let’s have a look at the barn first,” Liam suggested. He led the way down the long dirt path. The ground was soft under their feet. “I used to climb that tree when I was kid,” he said, pointing to a maple tree at the edge of the path. Its branches stretched endlessly, the trunk so large that Hannah wouldn’t be able to get her arms around it. A low-hanging branch gave her an idea.

“I wonder if we could do a generational photo on this tree with you and Noah. Would you be okay doing that?”

“And be in a national magazine?”

“Yes,” she said, offering a cheesy please-say-yes grin. “You both have the perfect look for magazines.”

“Are you flirting with me?” he teased, a smirk emerging at the corner of his lips.

Hannah laughed. “Call it what you want.”

He eyed her playfully, raising his eyebrows. “You aren’t saying no.” He grabbed the branch of the tree, looking up to the top of it. “I’m going to tell everyone you said I look like a magazine model.” He hit a pose, making her laugh again.

“Wait,” she said, her drawing pencil poised above her sketch paper. “Stay just like that.” She dragged her pencil across the paper, quickly outlining the tree and then placing him in position as he was. But then she added Noah, sitting on the branch, his legs dangling over it, Liam looking up fondly at his son. She turned the pad of paper around and showed Liam her idea.

He broke pose, astonishment on his face. “Wow,” he said. “That’s amazing. You’re clearly great at what you do.”

“I don’t know,” she said, shrugging it off.

He took her hand. “Come on. Let me show you the barn—I think it’ll be right up your alley. I built it with my dad.”

Liam led her to the brick-red structure. He tugged on one of the large doors, sliding it open. “My mom uses this for parties,” he said as they stepped inside. He clicked on a light switch.

Hannah gasped, her mouth dropping open. “This. Is. Perfect!”

An enormous chandelier hung from the ceiling, sparkling like a rare jewel above them. Bales of hay were stacked against the walls and lining the cement floor, acting as chairs for the rustic whiskey-barrel tables. One of them held two glasses and a bottle of wine. She pointed to them questioningly.

“Local,” he said, popping the cork and pouring them each a glass.