10. Kent #2
"You're remarkably thorough," Cecilia remarked, her lips curving into an inviting smile as she leaned slightly closer across the examination table.
She shifted her posture, her eyes scanning his face with clear interest as she signaled toward the bustling crowd near the pumpkin displays.
"It must be exhausting to manage the entire valley's livestock and domestic pets without taking time for yourself.
A weekend break at the reservoir trail would do you good. You should join me sometime."
"The workload is manageable when properly scheduled," Kent responded, his words remaining polite.
He capped the bottle and set it beside his prescription pad, unclipped his pen, and began writing the daily dosage instructions in clear, precise script.
"I prefer to keep my off-duty hours reserved for farm maintenance and personal obligations. "
Before Cecilia could press the invitation further, a movement near the farm stand caught his attention. Kent glanced up from his notepad, his gaze sweeping past the crowded displays until it landed on Teddy.
She stood near the railing of the wooden deck, holding a heavy oak crate filled with decorative gourds.
She'd rolled the sleeves of her dark cotton shirt up to her elbows, her dark hair gathered in a messy knot at the crown of her head, with loose tendrils framing her face.
She'd paused near the farm stand, her dark eyes remaining on the examination table, her frame stiff as she viewed him standing next to Cecilia.
The instant his eyes met hers, the surrounding din of the festival seemed to recede.
Kent set his pen onto the pad, his entire demeanor shifting as his attention locked onto Teddy with absolute, undivided focus.
He didn't break eye contact, nor did he attempt to conceal the affection that filled his expression the moment she entered his field of view.
"Excuse me for a moment," Kent expressed, his tone firm as he addressed Cecilia without turning his head from Teddy. "I need to discuss some things with Teddy."
Cecilia's smile faltered slightly as she noted his complete disinterest in her conversation.
The immediate, palpable intensity that passed between Teddy and Kent across the sunlit grass was hard to ignore.
Kent heard Cecilia release a soft, breathy sigh, no doubt recognizing that his polite demeanor toward her really was purely professional, while his devotion to Teddy was absolute.
Teddy
Teddy remained motionless for a long beat, clasping the handles of the crate as she witnessed the unfolding scene.
She'd watched Cecilia lean close, she'd heard the smooth invitation carried on the breeze, and she'd witnessed how effortlessly Kent had set the offer aside.
There wasn't any hesitation in his eyes, no lingering glance toward the attractive newcomer, and no hesitation in where his loyalty rested.
There was no denying the warmth in his eyes as soon as he had seen Teddy. She was a fool.
As Teddy crossed the grass toward the examination area to deposit the crate near a display bench, the stubborn pride she'd carried all morning began to fracture. She'd spent days convincing herself that Kent's refusal to remain in emotional limbo was proof that his feelings hadn’t run that deep if he’d been ready to move on. She’d been using Cecilia's presence as a convenient justification for her own fear.
But stationed here in the golden autumn light, watching his gaze track her every movement with unyielding devotion, the truth became undeniable.
Cecilia wasn't the person creating the distance separating them. Cecilia was just a resident in Harvest Hollow whose interest wasn’t reciprocated.
The thing that kept Kent at arm's length hadn't been built by competing interests, or town gossip.
Teddy had erected every stone of that wall herself out of a desperate need to protect her guarded heart.
Kent reached Teddy as she set the crate next to the wooden bench. He didn't reach out to touch her, respecting her boundaries, but he stood close enough that the clean scent of his cologne wrapped around them.
"What did I tell you about heavy lifting?" Kent teased. "Knowing you, you've been moving crates since eight this morning."
Teddy felt the tug of a smile that she no longer tried to hide.
"I was too busy looking at documents. Believe it or not, this is my first crate today. I can manage the lighter gourds," Teddy replied. She drew a slow, grounding breath, her posture softening for the first time in days. "I didn't mean to disrupt your clinic."
"You aren't disrupting anything," Kent assured her. "You could never be a disruption."
Teddy swallowed against the sudden tightness in her throat. She stood next to him in the sunshine, recognizing that if she wanted the care and affection he offered, she would have to find the courage to tear down the barrier she'd erected.
The sweet fragrance of roasted squash and dried sage filled the kitchen, but the atmosphere inside the farmhouse was thick with an unyielding tension.
Teddy sat at the oak table, smoothing out three pages of lined legal pad paper.
Beside her lay the vintage Sunday school logs, the leather-bound farm ledgers, and the creased old photographs.
Across the room, Nell Vance stood near the stove, her arms crossed, her dark eyes sharp and unreadable, while Kent observed from the kitchen door.
With her sisters too busy with other things, Teddy needed his support confronting Nell.
"I've matched four sets of initials from the cider barn support beam," Teddy stated.
She pointed a pencil at her legal pad. "The lettering carved into the white oak matches the maiden names recorded in the town hall archives.
Sarah Miller, Mary Kincaid, and two others who still live within three miles of this farm.
These aren't random travelers passing through the valley.
They're women who sit in the front pews every Sunday morning. "
Nell didn't shift toward the table. Her jaw tightened, her gaze staying anchored on the legal pad as if the precise columns of blue ink were somehow offensive. "You've spent days buried in those papers looking for answers that don't belong to you."