Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Hunter
A couple of deep even breaths in and out. It’s not a big deal, I just almost died, again. Jake’s driving is not the best. I kind of feel bad because he has to learn in an oversized truck that has the entire back packed to the gills and a small trailer pulling behind it. He tends to forget about the trailer and then remember last minute.
I’m highly considering just setting aside time during the week for him to practice in the truck with nothing in it or behind it.
“Sorry, Mr. Hill,” Jake says as he climbs out of the driver’s seat.
“Ain’t no thing,” I say calmly.
Jake goes to start unhooking the trailer and I move to the back of the truck to pull out the large wagon we use to carry supplies. I look and see that Jake is already ahead of me, pushing the trailer toward our market spot, and it’s not too far. We get to pull our truck up and through the market because the only people who are here are the ones setting up, but Jake is too nervous to drive through the street with pop-up tents here and there. I don’t mind him being cautious. If anything, I respect it.
He immediately starts setting up our tent and I swell with pride. This boy is a good one. I bring the wagon over, completely filled, and then start pulling out the tables and tarps. This is the fourth or fifth market he has done with me and already he has everything down to a science; it’s impressive.
“Oh shit,” I hear him mutter under his breath.
“Everything okay over there?” I ask as I continue to unfold tables and cover them.
“Yeah, I just forgot these preserves my ma made for Lena. She canned them fresh this week.” Jake’s face gets a little ruddy and I smile.
“You want to run home after we finish setting up? I can man the stand for a bit.”
“No sir. I live close to Lena; I just knew she would be here today.”
As Jake continues to work, I can tell he has a little less steam in his engine. There are a few times I consider bringing it up again but think better of it. When we finish setting up our stand, I see him survey the whole thing and then pull out his phone for the fourth time.
I feel bad for the kid—he wants to do the right thing and work his shift. Being young passes us by so fast. I remember being a kid and thinking about how every moment was make it or break it, but that isn’t really how life works. Harrison was worse than me. Mama never had a girl, but sometimes I swear that brother of mine is awful emotional. If he thought it was do-or-die, he really thought it was, and he couldn’t keep quiet about it.
It’s about ten a.m. and the market is in full swing. Parents are toting around their kids, checking out each stand. Out-of-towners are making multiple rounds before buying anything. Jake and I are filling bags that we bring and recycle from other stores as well as reusable cloth bags people bring. I can see that he scans the crowd many times and tenses each time.
“Did your girl know you were bringin’ her something?” I ask, bagging an out-of-towner’s vegetables and some pickles I made. I don’t even look over at him; I don’t want him to feel like I’m prying, but I can tell he is tense.
“She’s not my girl, and no, I didn’t tell her. She just likes them.” He is a bit more curt than usual, but I pay no mind.
“I don’t think she’ll mind a visit to her house later, right?” Jake doesn’t respond and he just lets out a heavy breath. Poor Kid.
We keep working and I see Franny in her jean cutoff shorts walking toward my stand. Right behind her, the sun catches the light of something that shines. It’s the shimmer of long, chestnut-brown hair attached to a head thrown back in a boisterous laugh. I am almost positive I know that loud, infectious laugh attached to that shimmery brown head of hair. The laugh alone makes me smile. A familiar blonde blocks my view, and when I make eye contact with Franny, I can tell she thinks that my smile is for her. She has a grin of her own from ear to ear.
She strides, with pride, up to my table adding a little sway to her narrow hips.
Now with my view on the brunette open, my suspicion is verified—that creamy skin and brown hair belong to Cassidy. Only problem is, she’s not alone. She’s with a man and he’s making her laugh, hard. A jealous wave washes over me, wishing her laughter was brought to my ears from me alone, and not this obvious city fuckwad.
He wraps his arm around her shoulders, and she focuses on something across the market. His face is dangerously close to hers, his mouth probably grazing her ear. She just continues to laugh. A sound I’ve wanted to hear all week, but at the moment it’s like nails on a chalkboard.
“Hey, Hunter!” Franny bellows sweetly and I see green eyes meet mine. Cassidy looks right at me, and I grimace. She looks stunning and stunned. Beautiful and bewildered.
“Franny,” I regard, pulling my eyes from Cassidy and over to Fanny.
“How’s the day treatin’ you?”
“Fine, who’s watchin’ the soap stand?”
“One of my brothers. They have it covered. I was wondering if you were going to be out tonight? I heard some of these vendors are leaving their tents and letting the town borrow them.”
I forgot for a minute tonight was our town’s annual summer cookout. I usually attend and even help set up or break down, but I can’t remember why I didn’t bother to sign up this year. I feel like there was a reason, but I just can’t place it. Part of me recognizes if I go and just offer help, they will gladly take it.
“I’ll probably be there. You and the family?” I take a chance to peak over at Cassidy and she watches me intently, not the slightest bit coy. She has no shame in standing straight and watching my interaction with Franny.
Does it bother her? She came here with another man so I can’t imagine that it would.
“Yeah, I guess so. I think a band from a few towns over is gonna play. Heard they’re pretty damn good. Save me a dance?”
“I don’t dance, Franny,” I say flatly.
The man who was at Cassidy’s side is no longer there. She stands alone watching and when our eyes meet, she decides to walk over.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
If I know Franny, she can play sweet all day long, but the woman is like a cat. She can play nicely when she wants to, but dagger-like claws can come out too. I look over at Jake with pleading eyes to take Franny off my hands, but he is a child and no mind reader, so, I’m left on my own.
“I could teach you if you don’t know how. I doubt that there is anything Hunter Hill is bad at.” She bats her painted eyelashes at me, and I begin to sweat.
Cassidy is only a few feet away and I imagine she’s almost in earshot. I shouldn’t care since she came with a man; if anything I should play my own hand better than hers.
That would involve Franny though, and I am not going to lead her on or create that kind of in-town drama. I survey the crowd looking for the man she came with and spot him at Franny’s family’s soap stand, holding hands with another woman, and an older woman. The three of them are dressed better than the people we usually see around here.
“Franny, I think some big money is at your stand. You should go check it out,” I say with a smile. She turns and sees the three of them and smiles big.
“Oh yeah! That does look like big money and look at that woman’s skin! She will totally appreciate this new scrub I have! I need to run back to the shop!” She turns and starts to jog toward her shop. “We are not done talking about that dance, Hunter!”
With Franny gone, I turn to see Cassidy. She’s stopped in her tracks. She’s wearing a grey tank dress, a long-sleeved shirt tied at her waist, and flat shoes. Her head is tilted slightly to her left. Her plump and glossed lips are slightly pursed and then she squints. Her mind is mulling something over.
I silently beg her to come up to my stand, to say hello.
The message is either not received or ignored. She looks over to the three out-of-towners: the man she was originally with and the two women.
I look over in that direction too and see the younger woman smelling soaps. Looking back at Cassidy, I see that she is no longer still; she is walking toward her, what I assume are, friends.
Like some kind of sick joke, Franny gets there right when Cassidy does. Franny has a canvas bag full of Lord knows what. She startles the older woman in the group, and Cassidy barks a laugh but is quickly silenced with one look.
What I would give to listen in on this conversation. I’m sweating through my work shirt like I’m working the field midday. Cassidy, the two women, and Franny all talk. They talk, and talk, and talk. Franny opens various containers and the girls smell. They oh and ah over all the products.
A short time passes and Cassidy points to Franny’s pristine cowgirl boots. Franny shakes her head and laughs. Then she points to the banner for the summer cookout hanging off one of the main shop buildings.
The pit in my stomach keeps growing.
The young woman and man smile and nod enthusiastically while Cassidy and the older woman groan.
All three women make purchases with Franny and buy cloth reusable bags with her family’s shop logo on them. This may not be a big deal to most, but I care about plastic waste, and seeing Cassidy not be a part of it is a plus.
I watch them casually as they continue to meander through the market, and I help my own customers. Cassidy doesn’t look my way one more time. I decide it’s best to leave it alone, so I stop watching altogether and just focus on the stand.
“Hey, boss. Lena was going to grab me something to drink, want me to have her grab you a water?” Jake asks. I turn my back to the crowd and see him blushing over his phone, not making a move to look at me.
“Yeah. Water sounds good.” My lips turn up a little, as I watch him text his friend back.
When I turn back to the crowd, I see Cassidy and her group at my stand. Her friend is looking through the vegetables and talking nonstop. Cassidy is holding multiple reusable bags just listening to her friend. On the other side of her is the man. He leans into Cassidy, and says something into her ear, evoking one of those beautiful smiles.
She doesn’t make a move to look at my face, but her friend does. She’s caught me staring and smiles wide at me and then looks over to Cassidy, and then looks back down to my left hand. I am almost positive she is looking for a ring. I obviously don’t have one.
“Hey there, do you grow all this?” She asks me in a high-pitched tone. Regardless of if this girl is talking to me, Cassidy isn’t even looking at her anymore. She just stands next to her friend’s side looking around the market, everywhere but where I stand.
“Yes ma’am. Been growing vegetables like this since I can remember.”
“That’s amazing! We’re staying at the B and B tonight before we head back to the city, will they still be good to use when I get back home tomorrow?” She crosses her arms but rests one hand under her chin. She’s looking at me with a questioning gaze, but it’s not intrusive, just curious.
“Of course, they will, and I can guarantee they will be the best you’ve ever had. ”
“I see.” She starts grabbing some carrots, squash, and a small bundle of cherry tomatoes. “I’ll take these.”
I smile warmly and go to grab a plastic bag to put them in, but a soft hand darts across the table holding mesh drawstring bags. Reusable produce bags. I look up at the creamy, slender arm that holds such simple items with complete grace.
“Thanks, Cassidy,” her girlfriend says. “This one here does what she can when she wants to be all green and stuff, but don’t let her fool you. She’ll still take Styrofoam takeout containers and to me, that just means you’re not fully committed.”
“Says the girl who didn’t bring any of her own reusable bags and used up all of mine.” Cassidy’s voice is like a cool balm over a deep burn. I revel in the sound even though it’s not directed at me.
“I’m not judging, doing any little part counts. I don’t make a lot of waste on my property, but I drank a milkshake out of a Styrofoam cup not too long ago.”
Green eyes dart up to mine and her pouty lips purse. For a girl only looking for a good time, she sure is acting a bit strange.
“I guess even the most conservative people generate some waste,” the friend chimes in.
“I guess so. Since y’all are stayin’ overnight, are you guys goin’ to check out our summer cookout? It’s tonight, should be a good time.” I smile at her friend, trying to entice her to drag Cassidy out so I can gain a few more moments with her.
“Funny! The girl over at that soap stand was talking about the same thing. She said you guys have good music, food, games, and people. Will you be there?” she asks. I hand her the vegetables .
“Ten even. Yeah, I’ll make an appearance. I like to help with the setup and breakdown.”
Cassidy looks me square in the eyes and tilts her head to the side. Her friend hands me the money and beams. “Well, maybe we will just have to come on out tonight and check it out!”
They’re about to leave, but I want Cassidy to linger.
I wish she was behind my stand, sitting on the tailgate of my truck, telling me about the chapters she read this morning while I set up. I wish she was in cutoff shorts and boots or even her high tops. I wish she would talk to me.
A part of me wonders why I’m not saying anything to her, but maybe this isn’t one of her friends from the prankster group of gal pals she was telling me about.
I think better of calling Cassidy out and bringing attention to the fact that I already know her. Hopefully, she’ll come out tonight and want to talk to me if we get a chance to escape the crowds. I just smile at them all and plead with my eyes for Cassidy to still hold interest.