Page 46 of Horn of Plenty
Mabel sucked in a sharp breath.
Showtime!
She’d been in the barn feeding Cal the Goat when the governor had arrived, and her father and Cal greeted him. She’d seen the man and his mini entourage pass by but hadn’t met him yet—a good thing because her cantankerous goat had gotten his muddy hooves all over her skirt. She’d sprinted up to her room to get changed. Sure, she lived on a farm, but that didn’t mean it was okay to be covered in goat prints and smell like the inside of a barn when the top official in the state swung by.
She glanced at the table, looking country chic with the flowers, the special sweet tea, and the blue checkered tablecloth she’d found folded under a heap of dishtowels. From the little she’d overheard when the group passed by, she’d learned that this was the governor’s last stop, and with it being one hell of a hot day, she was hopeful the man would be up for something cool and sweet.
“At least, take a glass of iced tea, and bring one to Abe,” she said, pouring two cups and handing them over to Kenny, who drank down his glass in one gulp before heading off to help his brother.
Never a dull moment on the farm!
She met Cal’s gaze. “I hope the governor likes sweet tea.”
“It’s perfect, Mabel. And it’s because of you,” he said, tracing his finger down her jawline.
“It’s thanks to the entire town. Remember, I don’t even know how to turn on the tractor, let alone head up an effort to change the way an entire group of people farm. I don’t know the first thing about yields and…” she trailed off, recalling something odd she’d seen on Cal’s whiteboard.
“And what?” he pressed.
“And the number on your board hasn’t changed,” she said, eyeing him closely. Another week had gone by in a whirlwind, but she’d noticed that the pink number had remained the same.
“Which number?” he asked with a sly grin.
“The pink number. It’s been stuck on fourteen ninety-three. It usually ticks up by one each day,” she supplied.
“I was counting something, but I’m done doing that,” he answered with that same crafty grin.
With hands on her hips, she gave him her best broody glare. “What were you counting? It’s driving me crazy!”
He held her gaze. “I started counting the day you left Elverna.”
Holy whiteboard revelation!
Her mouth opened and closed as if she were a flounder.
“Why didn’t you stop counting when I’d arrived?” she asked, needing some clarification.
He took her hand. “I was counting the days until I could tell you that I loved you.”
This man!
She still hadn’t unraveled her feelings about what it meant to give up dreaming about visiting faraway places. But it had to mean something that a man loved her so much that he’d counted the days until he could share what was in his heart.
“I was gone for over four years, Cal,” she said, hardly able to believe what he’d done. “You kept a tally of all those days?”
He brushed his thumb across the back of her wrist. “It kept you close to me even when you were miles away.”
She reached for theM. “Cal, that’s—”
“That’s one heck of a greenhouse,” a booming man’s voice called as her father and the governor joined them with Duke and a few aides trailing behind.
She pulled her hand away. They were still keeping their relationship under wraps, and, even now, she wasn’t sure how she would break it to her father. And there was the matter of that shotgun.
“This must be your Mabel, Elias,” the governor said, then shook her hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. We’re so happy to have you in Elverna!”
The governor was a big man with a warm countenance. He fanned himself, removed a handkerchief from his pocket, then dabbed his brow as a photographer snapped pictures, and a few of his aides hung back, glancing at their phones.
