Rune never gives me a satisfactory answer on whether or not he's serious about making something with Howl's Moving Castle. All he'll say is he needs to wait and see how a few things pan out first and that I need to focus on getting Horse Girls Heroes ready and learning how to write short stories for it. He's right, I do, but still, his secretiveness is annoying.

While Lorelei's at her horse camp on Tuesday and Wednesday afternoon, he coaches me on how to map out my notes on each woman and horse and turn them into compelling stories.

We drive over to meet with Luna in Scandia, a little south of Poulsbo on Wednesday. The Four Corners Co-Op she and Pat are involved in launching is having a soft opening before they throw the doors open for the season on Saturday.

The small seasonal cooperative farm stand and bakery café will be open four days a week, Wednesdays through Saturdays until Halloween. They'll sell seasonal produce and flowers from local farms and whatever baked goods and heartier fair Trisha, the farmer who owns the property the stand sits on, feels up to making with her four almost grown daughters daily.

Luna and I have parked ourselves off in the far corner of the expansive wooden awning volunteers built to block both the sun and the rain for outdoor dining and socializing. She looks tired and disheveled but content as we review social media posts I'm putting together to promote the opening.

The day is bright and breezy and perfect, but we might get rain tomorrow for our lunch in Seattle. I'm glad I'll be wearing a suit.

One of the goals of this Four Corners project is that it'll not only be a place for teens to gain work experience but also be a welcoming location for them to hang out. There's even a special section for them under a small tent canopy and copse of Alders, complete with their own tables and chairs. Someone has set up a game of cornhole.

"It's really coming together," I tell her, enthusiastically gazing around at how charmingly decorated the place is, "I can't believe this is the same place I saw just a few weeks ago."

The dining area is populated with an assortment of vintage tables and chairs donated by many local antique dealers. Where chairs aren't available hay bales fill in for seating. Everything wooden has been painted in bright yellows, pinks, and teals as a nod to the Scandinavian heritage of the region.

"It's been a lot of work, but hopefully, it'll be worth it; the kids are all so excited," she scrubs her hands over her face and then looks over to where Rune appears to be wrapping up his impromptu photo session.

For the past half an hour, he's been taking pics of a group of teens wearing brightly colored Four Corners Co-Op t-shirts. They'll all work here part-time over the summer and fall for school credit. They're all laughing and chatting with Rune easily. They even began hamming it up for him once they got over their stage fright of meeting this handsome stranger. None appear to recognize him, but a few girls have blushed and giggled under his direction. I make a mental note to add this to the things I like about how he treats people. Most of the time he's unfailingly polite to strangers and takes special care with young people.

"How'd they turn out?" Luna asks as Rune comes striding up to our table with his easy long gate.

"Take a look," he says, handing her his digital camera, "Seashell, we should do some of the video interviews here in the fall," his baseball cap is on backward in photography mode, and his green eyes are particularly bright as he gazes around the store and the patio area. I can practically see the idea wheels turning in his head.

"These are excellent, Rune, thank you!" Luna says happily, "They'll be perfect for the website and social media."

"When will you need the next fundraising video?" I ask Luna, as she scrolls through the images on Rune's camera. We haven't received word yet if the budget for the new project is a go, but I'm going to pretend it is. Everything else (except my love life) is panning out for me right now, why not this?

"Giving Tuesday is early in December," she tells me, "I think we'd want to have it about a month in advance."

"Can you come back in September for us to shoot it so I have October for editing?" I ask him.

"Of course, I'll only be three hours away," he gives me a glance like this is a no-brainer, "but I may need a place to stay." I nod. My libido has all kinds of suggestions, which I squash quickly.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"These are fantastic, Rune; thank you!" Luna beams at him. He's nodding and striding away, obviously intent on photographing something else.

"Are you sure nothing is going on there?" Luna asks, her eyes sparking with mischief as she stands to go back to setting up the wooden structure that will display ready-made floral bouquets, "He needs a place to stay when his house is right next door? Hello?"

"I'm sure," I tell her, wishing I could fill her in on all that's going on in Rune's life, that anything he's doing that appears 'date-like' is all a ruse, "he doesn't get along very well with his cousin's fiancée."

After Luna returns to work and Rune finishes taking photos, he goes over storytelling tips again while we wait for our sandwiches. He's being patient, trying to find a way for my visual brain to grasp what he's been coaching me on.

"Think of the narrative arc as a triangle," Rune says, writing notes in his neat, slanted hand for me along the triangle he's drawn on a blank piece of paper in his small dark green fabric-covered notebook.

He's using the sample story of the British equestrian Marion Coakes and Stroller, the only pony to compete in show jumping at the Olympics. In 1968, at the Mexico City games, the pair won the silver medal for individual jumping when Marion was only twenty-one years old.

I'm furiously scribbling notes in my bucket list notebook when they call my name from the farm stand food counter.

"I'll get them," I tell him, jumping up and putting the phone to my ear, "upload your images into my computer."

As I make my way across the seating area of chatting diners, my phone rings with my sister Syd's number.

"Bill's not coming to Seattle with us," she says without preamble.

"Oh, Syd, I'm so sorry," I say, maneuvering around the line at the counter to pick up our tray, "You don't think there's a chance he'll change his mind?"

"Highly unlikely," she says dryly as I look at the sandwiches and realize they've given us the wrong order.

"Hold on a sec," I say, and tell the young woman handing out orders about the mix-up. The poor thing turns bright red and promises it'll be just a minute for her to make the right ones for us.

"So, what's going on?" I ask as I step into a little alcove behind a large potted tree to move away from the conversation buzz of the growing crowd. I peek around it and can make out Rune across the increasing group of diners; he's immersed in reading something, making notes.

"Bill's set on buying back that other bike store," Sydney continues, "We're splitting up the house fund so he can do it. The good news is that I now have the rest of the money for the roof."

"That is good news, but I wish you were all coming up here like you planned."

"Me too," she says grimly, "Anyway, Nils and I will be driving up in two weeks. I'm making a road trip vacation out of it, so it doesn't suck quite so much."

Since our sandwich order still isn't ready, she catches me up on what Nils is up to. It's another ten minutes before our correct order is finally prepared. They were smart to do a soft opening, all of the customers know this crew is still getting their game on.

When I join Rune again, he's still intently making notes on his phone. He starts a little when I set the tray down, he must have been far away in his mental musings.

"I got a call from Gunnar this morning," Rune tells me as I sit down and hand him his sandwich. He's done one of those pivots. His energy has changed from a friendly, focused teacher to a muted, almost grumpy one, "He's coming at the beginning of August to take Lorelei camping for a couple of weeks."

"I just got off the phone with my sister; she and Nils will be coming up not long after," I tell him, but not sharing more.

"Lorelei will be thrilled, she's been crushing big time on your nephew," he says, still not sounding happy as he moves his camera and notebook out of the way. I tuck my own notebook under my laptop, realizing with embarrassment that if he'd picked it up and flipped through it, he might have seen my Sexpectations homework. Ack! But it's a silly thought; why would he have done that?

"I bet she's excited about the camping trip too," I say as I guess the reason for his mood change, "but you don't sound happy about it."

"I want to be," he admits, "I'm happy he's taking her off by themselves for a week, but the second week, Jenna's meeting up with them at the Hoe Rain Forest at the lodge there."

"Lorelei's not going to like that part," I say, taking a bite of my delicious chicken salad, it was worth the wait, "Is there something beyond Jenna's color sense that rubs you the wrong way?"

"You spent time with her, what do you think? He asks, opening the bag of chips we decided to split.

"That's answering a question with a question, Mr. Slither-outer, just like Wizard Howl," I tsk at him.

"It's my favorite diversion tactic," Rune smiles slyly, even though the smile doesn't reach his eyes, "So, your thoughts on Jenna?" He nudges.

I roll my eyes at him but say, "She was perfectly nice to me, but I don't know," I stall, focusing on my sandwich, pondering how to say what I feel, and then finally say, "She feels a bit possessive and Hollywood-ish for him."

"Yes, agreed on the possessive. But what does Hollywood-ish mean?" Rune asks, pausing his own bite, quirking that right eyebrow at me, "Is that how you describe me?"

"I've heard her comment several times that she wishes he was still doing active sports modeling," I tell him, ignoring his second question. Two can play that game, "That he could have a great platform," I say, making air quotes with my fingers.

"The problem with that," Rune says, already done with the first half of his sandwich and picking up the second, "is that Gunner hated modeling; he only did it as an easy way to make money to travel. He's not vain and interested in creating stylish images like I am."