Page 13 of Horn of Plenty
Mabel waved for the men to go. “We’ll see you at the farmers’ market. Cal and I will be right behind you.”
Cal mirrored Mabel, waving like an idiot. If they weren’t more careful, the whole town would figure out that they were…
What were they? It was more than sex—so much more. He knew how he felt. She meant everything to him. She’d owned his heart for as long as he could remember.
“We better go, but first, I need to grab a box from inside,” Mabel said over her shoulder as she headed for the main house.
He needed to get his head out of the clouds. It was an important day—a make or break day.
“Sounds good. I’ll grab my keys from the cottage and meet you at the truck.”
He jogged back to his place, pocketed his keys, then glanced at a framed photograph. It was an old one of him and Jamie. They couldn’t have been more than fourteen or fifteen. He tapped the frame, staring at his best friend. “I’m going to deliver on that promise, J. I won’t let you down. I can feel it. Everything’s coming together just like we’d always dreamed it would.”
“Cal, are you coming?” Mabel called, her voice drifting in on the breeze.
He smiled at the image of his friend. “You know how terrible she is at waiting.” He gave the picture one last look. “I’m on my way, Mabel,” he called, striding out the door.
It was go time!
He joined Mabel in the truck. They headed down the drive, and he started going over the variety of produce and baked goods that would be available at the market when the unusual silence of the woman in the passenger seat pulled him from cataloging the cost of carrots. He glanced over to find Mabel with her eyes trained on the road and a decent-sized box taking up the space next to her feet.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Something silly. You’re probably going to hate them,” she replied, twisting an errant strand of thread on her jean shorts.
He was surprised to hear the hesitation in her tone. It could be nerves. It was a big day, and a lot was riding on what happened in the next couple of hours.
“Is it a box full of giant droopy hats? And, by the way, where is that floppy sombrero looking thing you always wear?” he teased, trying to make her smile or get her to yell at him. Either was better than the worried expression marring her beautiful face.
Not to mention, that ridiculous floppy sombrero was starting to grow on him.
Mabel chuckled and shook her head. “I don’t need my sculpted wide brim dramatic floppy hat today,” she corrected.
And that’s why he called it a floppy sombrero. Who could remember all that?
“Why don’t you need it?” he asked, trying to read her strange mood.
She opened the box and pulled out a ball cap. “Because I had these made.”
He slowed the truck and pulled over onto the shoulder, staring intently at the hunter green hat.
She sighed. “You hate it, don’t you?”
He took the cap from her and turned it around in his hands, inspecting every inch. She’d had a lettuce leaf in the shape of a heart, the Eat Elverna logo she’d designed, embroidered on the front with five words written along the bottom.
“Organic, sustainable, grown with love,” he said, reading the tagline she’d had printed on the leaf.
Mabel slumped into the seat. “I can change it. I didn’t run the wording by anyone because I wasn’t sure how the tagline would play. It was an impulse buy. I got them at a great price, but I think I read that I can return them if—”
“Stop,” he said, silencing her before placing the cap on her head. He stared down at her. A stampede of wild horses could thunder by, and he wouldn’t be able to tear his gaze away from this stunning woman. He thought he liked her in his T-shirt, but this was a whole new level of fascination. He cupped her face in his hands and captured her mouth in a kiss—a kiss fueled by this newfound optimism coursing through his veins.
The two of them, together, would save this town.
She gasped, clearly surprised by his reaction, then caressed his cheek. “I take it that maybe you don’t hate the hats,” she said against his lips, her warm breath sending a delicious tingle down his spine.
The hats were perfect. He and Jamie had never settled on a logo or catch-phrase, or whatever you call it. They were focused on the science of sustainable farming. The health of the soil. The diversity of the crops. Neither one of them knew the first thing about marketing or branding.
“I love everything about these hats. I wouldn’t change a thing,” he said as pride swelled in his chest.
