Page 24 of Love and Lattes at Pumpkin Hollow
Dylan shook his head. ‘I just saw the business opportunity… That’s what I do. Find opportunities,’ he said, frowning. ‘I guess I wasn’t thinking about me. I was thinking about the farm,’ he added, now looking as shocked as I had been. ‘I didn’t mean to overstep or anything, I wanted to help. I’m sorry, Willow. Maybe I should… yeah.’ He abruptly turned and took off back towards my car.
‘What the hell?’ I said under my breath. I hurried back to the farmer, deciding that Dylan and his confusing behaviour would have to wait. ‘Okay, let’s go through two options – what it would cost me to buy pumpkins to sell, and the second idea of you giving me them to sell for you, and how that would work. I’ll walk with you.’
We headed towards his office and struck out two kinds of deals, ending with me promising to confirm by Monday which option I wanted to go with. I needed time to think about Dylan’s idea rather than him just springing it on me.
Then I marched back to the car to find Dylan buried in his laptop. I climbed in to the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut, making him jump.
‘Willow, I almost dropped my laptop,’ he cried as I glared at him.
‘Do you think I can’t handle negotiating deals or something?’ I asked with an icy tone.
Dylan sighed, leaning his head against the seat. ‘Of course not. I think you can handle anything. I know you don’t understand, but I really did just want to help. That’s all I want to do,’ he said, looking back at me with those wide, blue eyes that made it really difficult to stay furious with him. ‘I promise, Willow.’ The way he said my name sucked the wind completely out of my sails. Gruff and almost… desperate.
I inhaled deeply. ‘Okay. I just want to make a success of this, you know?’
He nodded. ‘Of course I know. We are more alike than you think. I feel how much you want this and honestly, if I wasn’t trying to succeed myself, I would be doing everything I could to make this work for you.’
There was a short silence after his frankly passionate words. I had told him he wasn’t passionate but there was so much fire in his eyes and tone that I felt like I had done him a big disservice. ‘Why?’ I asked so quietly, I wasn’t sure if he had heard me.
Dylan stared back at me. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining the electric current in the small space between us. The car suddenly felt too small and too warm, but I also didn’t want to be anywhere else but here. My mind was a muddled swirl. Dylan was the enemy. I hated him.
Didn’t I?
‘I’ve never met anyone like you,’ he finally answered me, also softly that if we’d been any further apart, I wouldn’t have heard his words. But I did hear them. And they made my heart beat faster.
I opened my mouth to tell him I hadn’t met anyone like him but suddenly, his phone rang. We both jumped this time. He looked at the phone where it was perched on the dashboard and sighed. ‘It’s the person I’m meeting next,’ he said. ‘I should…’
‘Take it,’ I supplied. I twisted in my seat. ‘We need to go anyway, or we’ll both be late for our appointments.’ I started the engine as Dylan answered his phone and we left the pumpkin farm to head to the neighbouring town.
As we drove out, I saw a bunch of horse chestnut trees, conkers scattered beneath them, and I wasn’t sure why but I was suddenly desperate to speak to my mum. Maybe it was the reminder of us collecting conkers walking home from school or having to sell her necklace due to the prospect of losing the place she loved dear, or maybe it was the conflicting emotions I now felt towards Dylan, but the sadness that I couldn’t talk to her about all of it was piercing.
‘Dylan?’ I asked once he’d finished his phone call.
‘Yeah?’
‘Do you ever just really wish you could ask your mum’s advice?’ The farm was behind us now and the countryside stretched out in front of my car. The trees here were turning like my birch trees, and watery, September sunshine poured through the gaps in them, creating shadows on the windscreen. Golden and dusty orange colours were slowly taking over green. When the wind blew, leaves scattered across the car like butterflies you couldn’t catch. It wouldn’t be long until there were no leaves left to look at until spring.
‘All the time,’ Dylan replied. ‘Especially when I feel lost. She was always good at getting me to realise I knew which way I wanted to go even if I didn’t think I did.’
‘That’s a definite talent. Mine used to set me a task to do that allowed me to clear my mind and by the end, I usually found my answer.’
I wondered if he felt as lost as I did, but I couldn’t ask him that.
‘Ah, this is the place,’ I said, spotting the town sign at the side of the road. It was much larger than Birchbrook with a wide, busy High Street and lots of shops and businesses lined up along it, and a car park at one end. I pulled in to drop Dylan off for his meeting. ‘So, I’ll move on to the next farm and you’ll ring me when you’re done and we can head on to the hotel?’
‘Yeah. Call me if you need me, though,’ he said, climbing out of the car.
I watched him go and almost wished I could call him back and ask him to come with me to this supplier too. But I drove on, telling myself sternly that I could handle it fine on my own.
I followed the directions the farm had given me, and my eyes widened when I saw the sign outside of the town. I turned the car to see one of the biggest farms I’d ever seen. These farmers were food and plant suppliers to farm shops, garden centres, supermarkets and, of course, when it came to pumpkins – pumpkin patches. The farm was twice as big as the one we’d just visited and about four times larger than Birch Tree Farm. I parked in front of the office and met with one of the owners, who took me into their farm shop to show me the varieties of pumpkins they could offer me.
‘Wow,’ I couldn’t help but say when I saw them. They had every colour, size and variety you could imagine, of both pumpkins and squashes. Small Munchkin pumpkins, a green, striped one called Harlequin, Goosebumps pumpkins that had warts on their skin, pale-orange Autumn Crown ones, and Casperita, which were white. I instantly pictured them all on wooden planters in my polytunnels. They would look so appealing and were perfect to use as autumn décor. Everything was grown to perfection. This place was a huge operation but the owner told me it was still family-run, which obviously appealed to me. I took pictures of everything, then over a cup of tea, we talked about how we could work together. They couldn’t offer a deal like the other farmer, I would have to just order a bulk supply from them so again, I left saying I would be in touch on Monday once I’d worked out my budget and how much I could afford as they were pricier than the first farm due to the unusual varieties. Then I asked about crates and they gave me directions to a wine supplier a couple of miles away who sold them cheaply.
I left the wine supplier loaded up with crates and a couple of bottles of wine which once I’d tasted, I had to have, then – to make use of the spare time – I looked online and found somewhere that sold wood cheaply. I ordered enough to build my tables, letting Dad know when it would be arriving so he could sign for it and get it all put into the barn to stay dry.
By the time I drove back to the town to pick Dylan up, the day had dimmed, the sun fading into evening. I was tired and hungry and keen to get to the place he had booked us into for the night. We set off with Dylan navigating the way and grilling me about my supplier meetings.
‘I think the best plan is to order as many pumpkins as I can afford from this farm for the tunnels, then ask the first farmer we met today to give us some to put in crates out front that we will sell on his behalf. Then I won’t be forking out a small fortune all at once. And if we can make enough from ticket sales, it should be tight but possible to turn a profit. I asked the second place about pumpkin seeds and how best to grow them on my farm for the future too,’ I added, trying to show Dylan that I was already thinking about next year.
