Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Then for the second time that day, I walked away from Quinn Harper.
5
JOHN
Sunday morning, a car pulled into my driveway as I was walking back to the house after collecting eggs. I shielded my eyes, peering at the vehicle. My curiosity was cleared up when Quinn Harper stepped from the SUV, stopping to help her daughter out of the back seat.
I frowned as she approached, wondering what she was doing here.
Abby ran up, excited. “Hi!”
“Hey, Pumpkin.” I hunched down. “What are you doing here?” I asked, hoping by directing the question to her, I wouldn’t say the wrong thing and ignite her mother’s wrath.
“We had to bring your box!”
I stood, meeting Quinn’s gaze. It was calm but wary. I was puzzled until she explained.
“You left your toolbox at the house.”
“Oh. Sorry about that.”
“I called Laura and offered to drop it off. I thought maybe we could clear the air.”
I was surprised at her words. “Clear the air?”
She sighed. Before she could explain, Abby tugged at my pant leg.
“Are you a farmer?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“Do you have horses and cows?”
I crouched down again. “I have chickens and cows. And lots and lots of plants.”
“What kinds of plants?”
“Corn and soybeans.”
“I like corn. Especially with butter.”
I chuckled. “Me too.”
“What are soybeans?” She looked at her mom. “Do you make soybeans?”
“They’re used in foods, baby,” Quinn explained. “Like an ingredient. You love edamame. I make toasted soybeans for our salads.”
“The crunchy things?”
Quinn smiled—a soft, warm smile that lit up her face. “Yes.” Her expression did something to my insides, making me want to see it again. I shook my head at the strange thought.
I nodded. “They have lots of uses. They’re used to feed animals, make things…”
“What sorts of things?”
I chuckled. Cody used to ask a thousand and one questions about everything.
“Oil, soy milk, tofu, all kinds of items.”
“Cool. Can I see your chickens and cows, Farmer John?”
“Sure.” I set down the basket I was carrying, feeling an odd jump of pleasure as Abby slipped her hand into mine. I showed her the chicken coop, and then we walked to the fence, where I lifted her up so she could watch the cows.
“Can I go closer?”
I glanced at Quinn, who nodded. I set Abby down on the other side of the fence, and she went closer to the small herd, who glanced at her with no interest and went back to chewing grass. She patted their hides, giggling, then raced over to the corner where some wildflowers grew.
“You’re good with kids,” Quinn said softly.
“When I’m not scaring them.”
“Look, the past few days have been, ah, difficult. It was a long drive here. I was tired, anxious, and I wasn’t myself.”
I glanced her way. “You were attacked as well, darlin’.” Why the endearment slipped out again, I had no idea, but I let it go.
“I was annoyed. They didn’t hurt me, thanks to you.”
“Still not a great introduction to the town you planned on living in.”
She frowned, then shook her head. “Regardless, I shouldn’t have jumped on you. And I was grateful for your help. I’m sorry I was rude.”
Her words surprised me, and I turned to face her fully. “I apologize as well. There isn’t a problem with you arriving early, and I don’t care if there is a husband in the picture or not. Single mothers are incredibly strong, and I admire that. I wasn’t offering to pay for the paint because of that, but because I take care of the houses I own. I want my tenants happy.”
“Laura said the paint color Abby picked is usually not allowed.”
I shrugged. “It’s one room. It can be repainted when you move on.”
She dug into her pocket and held up some swatches. “Are these okay?”
I glanced down and nodded. They were all soft neutrals. “Yep.”
“Thank you.” She paused. “I want to be a good tenant. I plan on staying here awhile. Building a life for Abby and myself.”
The way she said the words, I had a feeling there was a story to be told. But I knew she didn’t know me well enough to tell it, and I never got involved with tenants.
“I wish you all the best.”
“Thank you. The next while will be busy, but I’m sure once I get things off the ground, it’ll be great.”
“Get things off the ground?”
She nodded. “I’m opening the new restaurant in town.”
I stared at her. “Where the Sandwich Shop was?”
“Yes.”
“You’re the dill idea lady?”
“Yes.” She narrowed her eyes, putting her hands on her hips. “You have a problem with that?”
“Kinda a silly name. Nothing wrong with Sandwich Shop.”
“That’s the old name. This is a new place with a new name. And it’s not silly, it’s catchy.”
I snorted. “Such a city slicker. We like it simple around here.”
She called to her daughter. “Abby—we have to go. Come on!” Then she turned to me. “Maybe they keep it simple so farmers like you can understand.”