Page 79 of You Had Me At Pumpkin Patch
When the others were busy talking, Zain had something else to confide. After Rosie had fled, he’d got in touch with his father about Kimberkoo Chat.
‘I couldn’t believe it when the stingy git offered me money for my early input with the chatbot. I told him to get stuffed if he was hoping for a big reunion, to boost his PR. But I did accept a payout, in lieu of me suing his arse. I got him to send it to Agnes, for the farm and retreats. Those treehouses will need better heating for the winter, and I could expand my speciality pumpkin patches, and maybe throw up a shack for people to buy produce.’ He shrugged. ‘I guess money isn’t always bad news.’
‘Wow,’ said Rosie. ‘Great ideas. Would you have sued him?’
‘Nah. Too much hassle, and what would I need with even more cash? Everything I want is right here.’ He squeezed her hand, his touch setting off a million fireworks.
And then it was time for her to explain what she’d been doing since she last saw him. They laughed about her triumphant raid on Cassius’s place, and when it came to the tale of James’s stuff he was surprisingly understanding, to say she’d once sort-of compared Zain to James in the manuscript Zain had found. They agreed that all of that was history.
Soon enough, their friends began leaving, and it was back to being just her and Zain, taking a stroll around the pumpkin fields, exactly as she’d been dreaming of. She hadn’t been sure how her heart-to-heart with Zain would go. She hadn’t tried to write it in her head, and she knew he would never again be scripting his part. But it had turned out just perfectly – as life often did when you let it.
As the sun went down, casting a kaleidoscope of colours across the sky, they curled their bodies together on a blanket among the vines, next to the warmth of a camping heater, by the light of a pumpkin lantern that had been carved with a smile.
Their lips met, moving lazily in another kiss that Rosie wished would last forever. They knew they would have peace here now. No guests were due for another few days, and Agnes would be back at the house. They had the Prizewinner pumpkin patch to themselves.
She’d already shared her deepest pumpkin field fantasies with him. But right then, all she wanted was to lie next to him, wrapped in his arms. Flesh touching, bodies snuggled under a pile of discarded clothes, feeling the warmth of his breath, the rise and fall of his intricately patterned chest. Running her fingers across the map of him.
Rosie had always been an autumn girl at heart. Pumpkin-spiced lattes, cosy blankets, writing by candlelight. But she knew now that she’d never experienced the true joy of it until she’d found this place and this incredible, multilayered man, who had set her world alight. He’d shown her what true, head-over-heels love felt like. She never wanted this real-life fantasy to end.
52
Rosie finished the chapter she was typing and gave a happy sigh. She was back in the writing nook inside her log cabin at Autumn Meadows, and everything felt glorious. She’d spent the night in Zain’s cabin, as she often had in the week since she’d returned. With her words written and her pumpkin-spiced hot chocolate finished, it was time for some fresh air. Her mind and body needed it, especially with her first writing retreat weekend starting in just a few days.
She stood up and stretched herself.
Working on her latest story was a joy, and she knew this one had something special. It was flowing with all the same magic as before, but this time the plot and characters were from her own imagination. Much like with real life, she didn’t know exactly how the story would end. Perhaps that was part of the enchantment. There would be ups and downs, and bumps in the road. Her characters would change and grow and become so much stronger. And she knew that hand in hand, they would reach their happy ever after. Everyone deserved a chance at that.
Tap, tap, tap.
‘Rosie.’
It was Zain’s voice at the door. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever stop smiling to be back in his world, and to have him back in hers. He lit her up.
‘Can you, erm, come out here? I have a surprise.’
He sounded nervous, as he did at times, when something was important to him, or he didn’t quite have the words. She loved that about him.
‘Of course,’ she replied.
She grabbed a coat, the late October temperatures growing cooler now. Soon enough it would be weather for mittens and bobble hats and blowing clouds of foggy breath. She had a feeling she would embrace and find happiness in every season here.
Rosie opened the door, expecting to see Zain. Instead, she found a large Cinderella pumpkin with a note attached. It was handwritten, in Zain’s writing. Her heart always filled when she saw his words. She read it:
Follow the trail. We’re going on a date. (Promise I made this one up myself. Might not be that good.) Zain. X
Rosie laughed, knowing that everything they did together was good – even the mundane bits, like sorting out the compost toilet. Though she hoped their date wasn’t that.
She looked up to see a trail of small pumpkins, leading out of the field and beyond. Well, it looked like she’d be off on an adventure. She’d better bring her wellies.
As Zain’s note had instructed, Rosie followed the line of miniature pumpkins, the names and stats of which she was coming to know. Zain’s quirky passions fascinated her. She greeted them like old friends as she walked. Jack be Little, the smallest of the bunch. Munchkin, looks cute in a decorative basket. Baby Bear, tastes delicious in a pie.
Once she’d passed the orange glow of the pumpkin patches, she was at the dirt-track exit from Autumn Meadows Farm. Following the last tiny gourd, she rounded the corner to find Zain. He was sitting in the cab of the tractor that he now used for hayrides, though it wasn’t hooked up to the trailer of hay. The cab was decorated with the leaf bunting Rosie had made for retreats, and bunches of autumn wildflowers. He’d taught her the names of some of those too.
Hearing her surprised laugh, Zain turned to look at her, and then jumped down, running a nervous hand through his hair before putting both in his pockets and then taking them out again, as if he’d forgotten what appendages were for.
‘Fancy a date?’ He swept an arm towards the tractor. ‘Nothing elaborate this time. No starry picnics on the lake, or whatever. Just a normal, let’s go on a date, kind of date. Thought I should prove I can manage that, without a chatbot.’ He winked at her, then looked unsure whether he should have mentioned the ‘c’ word.
‘Just a normal date?’ Rosie teased, nodding at the tractor.
