Page 12 of Love and Lattes at Pumpkin Hollow
‘Come on, Willow, we have to coexist for six weeks…’
I sighed, again regretting my impulsive proposal. ‘Go ahead,’ I said. ‘This evening can’t get much worse.’
Dylan sat down and slid my wine over to me then took a sip of his beer. ‘What’s happened?’
‘I was telling everyone about the pumpkin-patch idea when you came in, and everyone seems to think it’s a bit mad. Asking me about how profitable it will be. I haven’t exactly worked out the details yet but that doesn’t mean it can’t work. No one has any imagination around here,’ I grumbled.
‘Imagination is great,’ Dylan said. ‘But you do need a plan so you can make a profit. Otherwise you might as well accept my offer right here, right now.’
I started to glare but he smiled and his eyes twinkled in the light from the fire. Was he teasing me a little bit? I was so stunned, I couldn’t respond for a moment. I decided to turn the tables. ‘So, what did your brother say when you told him you were going to stay on our farm?’
‘It was along the lines of people here,’ Dylan said. ‘Wondering what on earth I was thinking. But I told Nate I’d do my usual work so there wasn’t a lot he could say. I often work from home or remotely anyway, and this would be a great addition to our portfolio so it’s worth the effort.’
‘How come you haven’t worked with him for long?’ I asked, curious as to why it hadn’t always been a family business.
Dylan gulped down his beer. ‘I studied law at university, I thought I wanted to be a barrister, well, I guess my family pushed me in that direction… my brother is eight years older than me and after we lost our mother, he kind of took on responsibility for me along with our dad.’
I stared at him. ‘I lost my mother too.’
‘I gathered from what you told me at the farm,’ he replied gently. ‘I hated university. I hated my course, I couldn’t focus, it was so soon after my mum died, and I was grieving but I also had so much pressure from my brother and my dad. God, is this being too honest?’ he asked, suddenly stopping as if realising he was blurting out deep shit to a stranger.
‘Oh no, I am used to spilling my secrets; I want to hear it all,’ I encouraged him. My dad often said I talked too much for my own good so I was pleased to meet someone else with the same tendency. I smiled. ‘Sometimes, it’s good to just let it all out, right? So, university went badly?’ I prompted.
‘That’s an understatement. I ended up leaving. And since then, I guess, I’ve been a bit unsure what to do. I’ve had quite a few jobs and moved around and my brother has kept on at me to work for him. This year, I gave in and said yes. So that’s why I want to do well at this job.’
I nodded, understanding his determination to do well and why he wanted to make our deal happen. He wanted his brother’s approval. I knew the feeling. I hated letting my father down. And Dylan felt like he had been doing that for years. ‘I guess our crazy pact makes more sense now. I lost my mother and since then, the farm just seems to have declined and we’ve struggled. I hate the thought that I’m disappointing her.’ I tilted my head to the side. ‘She loved autumn. It was her favourite time of year, and she passed that love onto me. I want to make her proud, just like you want to make your family proud.’
He smiled across the table at me, holding eye contact. It was a weirdly nice feeling to connect with someone new like that. I was used to being around people I’d known forever. They all knew about my mother and rarely spoke about her, and I was sure that was because they didn’t want to upset me but sometimes, I wanted to talk about her. Dylan was listening. And maybe that was making me be more honest than I probably should be. Particularly when we were on opposing sides.
‘I get why you’re determined to save the farm and why you want to make this pumpkin patch now,’ Dylan said. ‘And now you know why I want to get you to accept my offer to buy the farm.’
I finished my first glass of wine and started on the one Dylan had bought me. ‘We know why we are doing this then. But there’s a long way to go to get the other one to agree to the same point of view.’
Dylan shrugged. ‘We have six weeks, right?’
‘Despite the fact our families think this is completely mad, plus the whole town will be talking about it, I have no doubt. And neither of us have an actual plan of how we’re going to win our pact.’ I couldn’t help but smile though because suddenly, I didn’t feel quite so alone.
Dylan smiled back and then his food order arrived so our conversation paused and I was a little bit relieved it had. Opening up to Dylan might turn out to be dangerous.
11
After Dylan had finished his dinner, and our drinks were gone, we walked back to the farm together. We had been keeping the conversation away from deep subjects again, Dylan asking questions about Birchbrook and me waxing lyrical about my hometown.
‘You really do love it here, don’t you?’ Dylan said after a minute of silence following me describing the lantern parade we had on Halloween. We were strolling up the hill towards the farm. The sky above us was clear, dotted with twinkling stars, the night air chilly, promising cold days and nights ahead, the light from the moon guiding our way. There were no streetlamps here, and no one on the road. I was used to the quiet, and to the dark, but Dylan kept looking around and I wondered if he was slightly spooked by it as a city boy.
‘I know you think I probably haven’t seen much of the world like you have,’ I said, shaking my head. He opened his mouth to protest but I was sure that was going through his mind. I shrugged. ‘I actually went to university myself,’ I said, glancing across at him. He, as I expected, did look surprised, although he tried to hide it. ‘Yeah, a few towns over so in the week I lived there and just came back to the farm on weekends and in the holidays. My best friend Sabrina came too. She’s a teacher now. Anyway, I studied agriculture. I wanted to be able to run the farm one day. But after I left, my mum became ill and lots of things I had planned fell by the wayside. I did miss Birchbrook a lot too. This place is just in my blood.’
I could see the edge of the farm ahead of us now, lights left on in the farmhouse to guide my way. My dad had done that since I was a teenager and started going out at night. It was reassuring. Whatever happened, I could always come back home. But all that was under threat now. I wondered if Dylan could ever really appreciate the fear inside me that one day I wouldn’t be able to return to this place.
Dylan stumbled beside me then, his shoes not as hardy as my boots walking in the mud in the dark.
Instinctively, I reached out to grab hold of his arm.
‘Thanks,’ he mumbled, righting himself.
‘You need to get some decent footwear if you’re going to live and work on a farm for six weeks,’ I said, as he righted himself and avoided falling over.
‘Hmm, you might be right. I’ll order some tonight. Oh, can you get Amazon to deliver out here?’
