Chapter 28 #2
“Careful, bug,” I said, my voice low but sure. “You got it.”
She clambered over the edge with a triumphant squeal, planting her hands on her hips as she stood tall against the autumn sky. “I did it! I’m the fairy queen!”
“You sure are,” I said, my grin stretching wide.
It was ridiculous how easy it felt. Like I was meant to be there—meant to catch her when she fell, meant to laugh with Selene, meant to carry the ugliest pumpkin in the patch like it was the most important thing in the world.
Winnie made it halfway back down the tire mountain before deciding she’d conquered enough territory for one day.
“My hands are cold,” she announced as she hopped down the last tire and landed with a triumphant little bounce. “I think we need doughnuts now.”
Selene laughed, tucking her phone back into her jacket pocket. “Doughnuts sound like the perfect plan.”
At the farm stand, Winnie hovered close to her prized pumpkin as I set it carefully on the counter, its warty sides gleaming in the weak autumn sunlight.
“One lopsided beauty for the queen of the mountain.” Elodie grinned as a cashier rang it up. “This one’s pretty ugly. Maybe we should give it to you for half price since no one else wanted it.”
Winnie stood taller at the title, her chin lifting with a grin. “It’s worth full price to me. I love it.”
Selene reached into her bag for her wallet, but I was already sliding my card across the counter. “Austin—”
“I’ve got it,” I said easily. “Don’t argue. It’ll hurt my feelings.”
Selene rolled her eyes, but there was a flicker of warmth in them that I didn’t miss.
After dropping the pumpkin off at the car, I lingered, watching Selene and Winnie through the windshield as they chatted near a display of multicolored corn and gourds. The way they leaned toward each other, their voices lost in the breeze—it was a sight I could’ve watched all day.
But my hands were cold too.
I turned back toward the farm stand, drawn by the faint smell of warm cider drifting on the breeze.
Elodie was behind the counter helping again, her sleeves pushed up to her elbows as she filled a customer’s order. The ease in her movements struck me—like she was born for this, the hum of a busy farm, the laughter of kids climbing hay bales, the sound of coins clinking in a cash box.
“Hey, Austin,” she said as I stepped up, already reaching for three paper cups. “Cider?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Three, please.”
As she filled them from a steaming kettle, I let my gaze wander back to the barn.
“You know,” I said casually, “Wes and the crew have done amazing work on the inside so far. The attention to detail—hell, even the beams feel like art. Wes’s vision really made the place feel alive.”
Elodie’s easy smile faltered slightly. Her hands stilled on the cups.
“It does,” she said. Then her brow furrowed as she sighed. “It breaks my heart, but he’s . . . really not doing great lately. Cal said he stopped coming out to jobs altogether. Won’t answer calls. Says he won’t even leave his house anymore. We’re all worried about him.”
The words settled heavily between us, the steam from the kettle curling lazily in the cool air.
“He was always the first one to show up for everyone else,” she added, almost to herself.
I nodded slowly, the weight of her concern pressing into my chest. Wes had been the guy who threw himself in front of a moving car to save Hayes—the guy who never hesitated to help.
Now he’s the one who needs showing up for.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring down the happy mood.” Elodie handed over the cups with a small, distracted smile. “Thanks for saying something, Austin. Not many people have.”
“Of course,” I said quietly.
I walked toward Selene and Winnie with the warm paper cups balancing in hand, the sweet-spiced smell of cider curling around me like a hug.
Selene looked up as I approached, her lips curving into a smile that melted my insides. Winnie’s eyes lit up at the sight of the paper cups.
“Cider! Yes!” she cheered, reaching for one.
“Careful. It’s hot,” I warned, crouching to help her hold it steady.
Selene’s fingers brushed mine as she took hers, and our eyes caught.
The air between us felt warm in a way that had nothing to do with the cider.
We started walking the rest of the farm, Winnie skipping ahead with her cider cup clutched in both hands, the steam swirling around her flushed cheeks.
The path wound past rows of late-blooming mums, their colors like spilled paint—deep burgundy, burnt orange, buttercream yellow.
I kept my pace slow, matching Selene’s without even thinking about it, every few steps scanning ahead to make sure Winnie didn’t trip over a root or wander too close to the small pen of goats without one of us close by.
The air smelled like hay and something sweet—baked apples, maybe—and it sank deep into my bones. I felt steady, like that was where I was supposed to be—with them.
“Think you can handle this place without me for a few minutes?” I asked, glancing over as we reached a split in the path.
Selene tilted her head, her wavy hair glinting in the afternoon light. “Depends. Where are you off to?”
“I see my brother over there,” I said, nodding toward Brody, who stood near the tractor shed, his uniform catching the light as he spoke to one of the farmhands.
Selene’s gaze followed mine. “Go on. We’ll check out the corn maze. If we’re not back in fifteen minutes . . .”
She let the warning hang with a faint smirk.
I grinned. “I’ll come in after you, but only if I get to carry you out like a heroic farm rescue.”
Her laugh curled around me, warm and unguarded. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously heroic, you mean.” My eyebrows bounced.
“More like ridiculously full of yourself,” she called over her shoulder, Winnie tugging her toward the maze entrance.
My laugh cracked into the autumn air and I turned toward Brody.
The sound of boots crunching on gravel preceded me as I crossed the open space.
Brody glanced up, his mouth twitching into a wry half smile. “Well, look who wandered in from the pumpkin patch.”
“Don’t knock it till you try it,” I said, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. “Pumpkin picking is serious business.”
His smile widened a fraction. “So I’ve heard.”
I gave him a jab of my elbow. “You mean to tell me the local cops have nothing better to do than protect the local family farm?”
Brody took my ribbing in stride as he ran a hand across his vest. “Last week I went on a call because Phyllis Clayborne was convinced the Lady had possessed her cat. I’ll happily take a drama-free afternoon at the farm.”
Our mutual chuckle was easy enough, but under the surface there was still that faint hum of something unspoken. Years of being brothers without ever quite feeling like it.
“How’s the build going?” Brody asked, nodding toward the barn.
My gaze followed his. “It’s good. Busy and makes for a long day sometimes, but it feels . . . important, you know?”
He nodded. “They’re lucky to have you on it. You’re good with your hands—always have been.”
Something in my chest tightened at the words. A compliment, casual and light, but from Brody it felt heavier.
“Thanks,” I said, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck.
Brody’s gaze drifted toward the fields before he spoke again.
“Listen, I’ve been going through some of Dad’s old stuff. There’s a lot. More than I can handle alone. You’d really be helping me out if you came by.”
I blinked, caught off guard by the ask but surprised by how quickly I wanted to say yes.
I cleared my throat. “Yeah. Absolutely. Whatever you need.”
His mouth tugged into that faint smile again, and I felt the tiniest crack of something shift—some small barrier loosening between us.
“Appreciate it,” he said simply.
“Of course.” I shrugged, trying to play it cool even as a quiet warmth spread through my chest.
For once this didn’t feel like chasing something unattainable. It all felt possible.
I leaned against the fence post, the wood cool and rough beneath my palm, and watched Selene and Winnie disappear into the maze.
Selene’s brown hair caught in the wind as she followed Winnie through the archway of bundled cornstalks, her shoulders shaking with laughter at something Winnie had said. A second later, they were swallowed up by the rows, the rustle of dry husks the only sign they’d been there at all.
I just stood there, the late-afternoon light stretching long and golden over the fields.
It felt good. Surreal, even. Like I’d stumbled into a life I wasn’t supposed to have but wanted more than I could admit.
Selene. Winnie. This town. All of it.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this steady, like I had roots sinking in deep and fast before I even realized it.
A grin tugged at my mouth as a new thought took hold—mischievous and stupid in the best way.
Maybe I’d give them their fifteen minutes.
Then I’d sneak in behind them—find Selene in some narrow row and sweep her right off her feet.
Literally.
If she thought I was ridiculous now, she hadn’t seen anything yet.