Page 6 of Harvested By The Mountain Man
She doesn’t even turn around, just shouts back, “I only need three. One for me, one for you, and one for Queen Lettuce!”
I laugh, shaking my head. Of course the stuffed rabbit needs her own pumpkin. We move deeper into the rows, Ivy hopping from vine to vine, me carrying the tote bag that’s already getting dusty. I try to stay present, to let myself enjoy this simple day. And mostly I do. But every time I glance back toward the tracks, I half expect to see him standing there. Watching. Waiting. I don’t, of course. The train’s long gone.
He’ll be back in a short twenty minutes. Why, exactly, does that make me feel excited? It’s like I want another interaction with him.
The way his voice rumbled when he said, I’ve got her. The way his hand steadied Ivy as he set her gently on the ground. The way his eyes met mine across the field before he climbed back onto that train.
I shake it off, brushing a strand of hair from my face. What am I doing, noticing the arms and shoulders of a man I don’t even know? For all I know, he’s just being polite, the kind of neighborly charm small towns are famous for.
Ivy wrangles a pumpkin that looks like it weighs more than her. She struggles to lift it, grunting and puffing until she plops it down proudly at my feet.
“This one’s perfect!”
I crouch beside her, running a hand over the mottled orange skin. “It’s a beauty. But maybe we should check out a few more candidates before we decide.”
She crosses her arms, considering. “Fine. But this one’s in the running.”
“Deal.”
Ivy and I spend nearly the whole twenty minutes in the rows, crouching, lifting, debating over pumpkin candidates like we’re judges at a contest. The “perfect” one turns out to be too heavy for her, wobbling and rolling before she admits defeat.
“Mommy, we need him,” she says, pointing without shame. And of course, him is Mr. Flannel himself – only he’s shed the flannel now. The sun has warmed the field, and Levi’s down to a fitted gray t-shirt that clings to every inch of muscle. Biceps flex, forearms cord tight as he hefts a pumpkin twice the size of Ivy’s. My breath stalls as he lifts it like it’s nothing, veins standing out across his arms, chest stretching the fabric.
I look away too quickly, suddenly fascinated by a crooked little pumpkin at my feet. It’s a perfect distraction break my mind away from all that strength I just witnessed.
Suddenly, a shadow falls over me and Ivy. The voice rumbles low. “This one giving you trouble?”
Ivy beams. “Yes! Mommy said it’s too heavy, but I want it.”
Levi crouches, inspecting the pumpkin with the same seriousness Ivy gave it earlier. “Solid choice. Sturdy stem. Good color.”
He winks at her before scooping it up in one arm and carrying it toward the locomotive. He sets it behind the faux coal car, right where the metal cover hides the engine parts.
“There. Safe ride back to the square.”
Ivy hops with excitement. “Thank you!”
He tips his hat. “Anytime.”
I should thank him too, but my throat’s gone dry watching the way his shirt stretches across his back as he straightens. He dusts his hands and glances at me, expression unreadable.
“So,” he says, easy and casual, “you’ve only been in Cady Springs a short time?”
I nod, brushing dirt from my jeans. “Yes, since June.”
“How do you like it?”
“It’s … really good. Different pace than before, but that’s what I wanted.” I glance at Ivy, who’s already darting to the next row. “What we wanted.”
His eyes search my face. “And Ivy? She like the move?”
“She loves it. Kids adjust fast.” I pause, then add before I can stop myself, “It’s just the two of us, so … anywhere can feel like home if we make it.”
There … I said it out loud. Now he knows it’s just me and my little girl. Sometimes admitting that feels like a bruise I don’t want anyone pressing on. But with Levi … I don’t feelembarrassed admitting it. Besides, it’s not something you can keep secret for long.
Chapter 6
Levi
