Page 71 of Small Town Frenzy
“Hi,” I reply, closing my door and walking around to the other side to get Jacob out of the vehicle. “That’s quite a sign.”
“Yeah. It’s much bigger these days than it was when I was growing up, but so is the business of the ranch and Greene Farms.”
He reaches it the same time I do but pulls me just far enough back to steal a kiss. “That’s pure evil, leaving me hanging like that.”
“I won’t leave you hanging for long. I promise.” He opens Jacob’s door for me. I unbuckle him, then pick him up to hold him on my hip.
“I’m holding you to that.” I look around. “So this is the ranch. The sign fits. It looks like a massive property.”
“Thousands of acres.” He comes around to Jacob’s side of me and says, “Hey there, Champ. Do you like horses and tractors?” He nods with pure enthusiasm. “Your pick. Where do you want to start?”
“Horses.” I set him down, and he immediately hits the ground running. Literally. I’m not too worried because I know I can catch him, but seeing the wide-open spaces eliminates any concerns I would normally have when he does that. “Hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“I do,” he replies with a confidence that can’t hide his happiness. There’s no cockiness, though there is a time andplace for it . . . usually after he’s made me come several times in a row.
Chasing him, he scoops him up, sending Jacob into a fit of giggles. When he sets him on his feet again, Griffin points toward the grassy field behind the old wooden railing fence.
I let them have a long lead, giving them moments with me near but not hovering. I think this approach will work best. I have no idea. Neither of us does. We’ll just do the best we can. I’m sure we won’t scar the kid. I hope not . . .
“Carrots,” a man with a raspier voice says, coming toward me from the house. I remember him from the pizzeria as Griffin’s dad.
“Pardon?”
“The horses. That little boy of yours might enjoy feeding them.”
That’s when I notice the carrots poking out of a small basket hanging from his hand at his side. “Yes. He would enjoy that. He doesn’t get to see horses up close too often. He’s not allowed near the stables where we live.”
“The Dover estate?” His eyes are trained ahead on the others when I look at him.
“How’d you know that?”
Turning his gaze on me, he replies, “Horses are a business for the Dovers. Our horses work the ranch with us and are what some would cringe hearing, but they’re part of the family.”
Holding the handle of the basket in front of me, we start walking together. “I don’t cringe hearing that.”
“I could tell you were good people when we met.”
I stop again, this time facing him. “We haven’t officially. I’m Cricket.”
“Hmm.” It’s not rude, but that is not the reaction I expected. Maybe I should. This feud between the familieshasn’t been a part of my life much, but here, dang, the grudge appears to run deep after meeting Baylor and now Griffin’s dad. “Cricket Dover, if I’m not mistaken.”
“You’re not. That’s my son Jacob Dover.”Why hold back now?
“Bryan’s daughter?”
“Yes, sir.” This man has not done one thing to hold importance over my head, but the mere mention of my father has me falling in line like his little soldier. Wouldn’t want to embarrass Delancy either. “Do you know my father?” The only memory I have of my parents mentioning the Greenes revolves around this man’s wife, who passed away. My stomach clenches, remembering how distraught my father was and my mom more determined than ever.
“We played some football against each other in high school. School and county rivalry kind of thing. Never officially met, but I’m glad to meet you. I’m Thomas Greene.”
When he offers a hand, I shift the basket to my left to shake it with my right. “Thank you. It’s nice to meet you too.”
He’s the first to take another step, so I start walking with him. “Looks like they’ve met before.” Not a direct question, but easy to read.
“Just recently.”
I see him nod in my periphery.Silent judgment?When I peek over, he’s smiling, though. I exhale a breath, knowing I don’t need to walk on eggshells, and I have nothing to be ashamed of. “They get along well.”
“Seems so.”
