9. Teddy
TEDDY
Dusk descended over the Marchetti family farm in a rich tapestry of amber and indigo, the evening air carrying the crisp fragrance of roasted apples and damp oak leaves.
Strings of glowing paper lanterns stretched between the cedar fence posts, casting a soft copper glow across the festive crowds that filtered across the farm stand plaza.
Teddy stood beside the heavy pine counter, her gaze sweeping across the bustling courtyard as she logged the final sales tally for the day on her clipboard.
Her shoulders remained set in a firm, vigilant line despite the exhaustion humming through her limbs.
She insisted to herself that the evening's gathering held no personal weight, that the festival dance was merely another operational milestone in a long season of mandatory duties.
Kent's quiet declaration in the cider barn earlier that afternoon, his refusal to remain suspended between temporary comfort and true partnership, still echoed through her thoughts, a steady vibration that rattled her carefully constructed composure.
She told herself that his distance was a good thing, that it would make her eventual departure at the end of November clean and uncomplicated.
But every few minutes, her eyes drifted involuntarily toward the eastern lawn, where the valley veterinary clinic had established its annual pet-adoption shelter.
Illuminated by twin lanterns, the wooden booth was framed with cornstalks and painted signs advertising local rescue animals.
Volunteers had taken shifts at the stand all day, but at the moment, Kent was there.
As much as she didn’t want to look, Teddy couldn’t help being drawn to that side of the yard.
Cecilia Brooks stood near the front display, looking effortlessly elegant in a cream knit sweater and dark denim.
Of course she would have scheduled her volunteer slot to coincide with Kent’s.
The thought tightened something in Teddy’s chest. The physical therapist moved with an easy, fluid confidence as she cradled a golden retriever puppy for a young family to admire, her bright laughter carrying across the lawn above the murmur of the crowd.
Beside her, Kent worked with calm efficiency.
Wearing his dark canvas jacket over a collared shirt, he moved between the crates, checking water bowls and reviewing medical records with steady focus.
Teddy watched from the shadows of the farm stand as Cecilia rested against the display counter, offering Kent a thermos of hot cider with a charming smile.
It was the same expression Teddy had seen at the clinic.
Cecilia’s gestures carried an obvious, inviting interest, a clear signal that she welcomed something far deeper than a professional acquaintance.
Kent accepted the cup with a courteous nod, his words staying soft and composed as he answered her.
Teddy wasn’t close enough to hear what was being said, but she scolded herself for being pleased that his demeanor stayed entirely professional, offering no romantic encouragement.
She pressed her palm against the cool texture of the pine counter, an unexpected spike of possessive heat flaring beneath her ribs.
The sharp, green prick of jealousy caught her off guard with its strength, making her chest constrict with a sudden, suffocating intensity.
She tried to dismiss the reaction, telling herself she had no logical right to resent another woman's attention when she had repeatedly pushed Kent away.
She had been the person who'd insisted on her independence, who had guarded her boundaries and sworn to travel back to Maine the moment the harvest ended.
Yet watching Cecilia tilt her head and laugh at something Kent said produced a bitter, restless ache that no rational argument could quiet.
As the twilight deepened into full night, the acoustic fiddle players gathered inside the large festival tent set up on the lower meadow.
The initial strains of a lively waltz drifted across the grass, accompanied by the golden glow of lantern light shining through the canvas walls.
Visitors began moving toward the tented dance floor in cheerful groups, leaving the farm stand plaza quiet and shadowy.
Teddy remained anchored at the farm stand as she watched the crowd dispersing.
Attending the dance seemed dangerously like surrendering to the invitation Kent had extended earlier, an admission that his presence mattered to her far more than she dared acknowledge.
She told herself she needed to supervise the remaining inventory, to check the lock on the tool shed, to clean the cider spigots.
She sought every logical task to justify remaining hidden away while the remainder of the town celebrated.
"The stand is closed for the night," Dahlia said, coming around the flank of the barn with a clipboard resting under her elbow, her dark hair bound neatly back, her expression holding a gentle, knowing observation as she observed her sister.
"The remainder of the team has already cleared the cash register and secured the cash box.
You've been working since sunrise. Take a break. "
Teddy straightened her posture, adjusting her cotton shirt while she indicated the empty crates. "The display racks need to be wiped down before morning, and the access gates should really be checked."
"The gates can wait until tomorrow," Dahlia countered, her voice bearing a firmness as she set her clipboard on the counter and pulled Teddy toward the house.
"You've spent weeks managing every single board, nail, and customer on this property.
You don't need to do anything else tonight. Let’s put this stuff down and then go down to the tent. "
"I'm fine right here," Teddy answered tersely, her attention locked on the lawn. "Someone needs to stay near the main office."
"The administrative work is already finished in the office, and our volunteer team is managing the parking area," Junie said, appearing on the porch with two mugs of warm cider.
She handed one to Teddy, her eyes bright with affection.
"You fixed the platform and walls in the barn, repaired the equipment shed, and kept the harvest on schedule.
You've earned an evening off. Stop acting as if the farm will collapse if you enjoy yourself for two hours. "
Teddy looked gazing at the steaming mug in her hands, the fragrant scent of apples and clove rising in the cool night air.
Her sisters stood beside her, their company providing an unyielding, undemanding solidarity that she probably didn’t deserve after some of the things she’d said to them.
She recognized the truth in their words, yet the prospect of entering that brightly lit gathering, of facing Kent after the fierce honesty of their kiss, made her heart rate rise with a nervous, unpredictable energy.
"Go on," Dahlia urged softly, a subtle smile touching her lips as she indicated the glowing canvas tent down the hill. "We can handle everything here."
Teddy took a deep breath, her hands clenching around the warm ceramic of the mug. She handed the mug to Dahlia, smoothed the front of her shirt, and moved off the porch into the crisp autumn night, her mind racing as she navigated toward the lantern-lit tent.
The crisp autumn air of the orchard trees met Teddy as she walked toward the tent, leaving the honey glow of the festival lanterns at the market stalls behind her.
She shivered slightly against the crisp night breeze as she moved along the unpaved path lined by dark rows of apple trees.
The faint whispering of drying apple leaves in the night breeze were drowned out by the music and chatter of people.
She could hear the muffled thrum of the festival bass through the floorboards of the makeshift dancefloor they had built, but what Teddy saw when she stepped onto it made her pulse beat so loudly it sounded like a drum.
Kent. Not alone, but dancing with Cecilia.
Not close, but the sight was still enough to make Teddy wish she hadn’t come.
The sound of the music drifted through the timber framed tent, but the melody didn’t sound like a celebration anymore.
She paused as she drew in a slow, measured breath, trying to steady her composure, and then turned around before her heart had the chance to break.
She had only got a few steps when she heard the creak of pine floorboards and the sound of her name, signaling a familiar presence.
Kent emerged from the dancefloor, his charcoal canvas coat holding the cool aroma of the harvest evening as he closed the distance between them.
He didn't rush, nor did he offer a quick apology.
His steady amber eyes remained level and serene as he observed her body language.
"You left before the song finished," Kent observed, “You’d only just got here.”
Teddy turned her head slightly, her posture stiffening in resistance as she caught his gaze. The possessive flare beneath her ribs remained sharp, refusing to settle even in the calm of the orchard. "I’m not sure how you even saw when I arrived. You seemed rather occupied on the dance floor."
Kent didn't flinch at her sharp tone. He motioned for Teddy to join him on one of the benches that had been dotted around the area for those who wanted a break from the lively dancing in the tent.
"Cecilia asked me to dance as soon as I entered the pavilion. I accepted because I didn’t want to be rude. "
"She certainly seemed appreciative of the gesture," Teddy commented, knowing that she was being unkind for no reason other than that she was jealous.
"Is that what this is about?" Kent inquired, his tone far more gentle than she deserved. He leaned back slightly against the back of the bench, his gaze staying fastened on her face. "You're offering cutting remarks because another woman asked for three minutes of my time?"
"I'm pointing out the obvious," Teddy insisted, her hand gripping the cedar wood. "Whether you admit it or not, Cecilia is into you. You made a point of telling me that you knew what you wanted, but you seem perfectly comfortable moving on to an alternative."
"Cecilia asked me to dance," Kent repeated, his voice carrying a tone that demanded her full attention. "I made it clear to her that I’m not interested in anything more than friendship with her. But you can’t be mad at me when you refused to even give me an answer when I asked you to accompany me tonight. "
Teddy clenched her jaw, as she pivoted toward him fully. "Because we aren't together. We've no agreements, no obligations, and no reason to pretend that whatever is happening right now constitutes a permanent connection."
"You're right," Kent agreed softly, his expression remaining steady and unwavering. "We aren't together. But that's your decision, not mine."
The direct candor of his statement hung in the crisp night breeze, silencing her next sharp retort before it could form.
Teddy knew he was right. This was her own doing.
And worst of all, he was so kind about it.
The truth was she was mad at herself more than anything.
He offered no anger, no bitter accusation, and no defensive explanations; he simply laid out the truth of the boundary she'd been constructing.
"I told you at the office that I'm not looking for coffee with Cecilia, and I've no intention of seeing anyone else," Kent continued. "I told you before that it’s you I want and I meant it. The truth is I’ve wanted you since we were teenagers.
But wanting you doesn't mean I'm going to spend the autumn chasing someone who constantly uses work, or Maine, as a reason to run away. "
She wanted to remind him of the two years she'd spent rebuilding her life in Portland after her marriage collapsed, but the excuses sounded hollow even in her own mind. But whenever she was near him, her self-imposed exile seemed less like safety and more like a self-inflicted punishment. She didn’t even know how to respond.
"I hope you enjoy the time you have left,” Kent said, his touch light as his fingers brushed her cheek for a brief second before he backed away.
"I’ll always respect you. I respect your strength, and I respect your choices.
But I won't stay suspended in limbo waiting for you to decide whether I'm worth the risk.
If you choose to keep yourself locked out, I won't break down the door. It has to be your choice."
He turned and moved back toward the timber-framed tent that was the dance pavilion, his dark silhouette illuminated for a moment in the honey glow of the overhead lights.
Teddy remained sitting on the bench, her hands folded in her lap.
The sound of laughter and music from the tent suddenly felt very far away.
For a moment, she stayed motionless in the dark, watching the activity, the happy faces, and all she felt was sadness.
She stood and walked back along the path through the orchard toward the farmhouse, alone under the autumn stars, confronting the terrifying truth that she was losing the only man who truly saw her, not because another woman was taking him away, but because she'd been actively pushing him out.