Page 27 of Waitress at the Shadow Ridge Inn
Like me, for example. I was an expert in deflection and vague nonanswers.
Despite my determination not to get involved, I wanted to know more about him.
He told me he was twenty-eight, the second born of five sons, and that the only time he’d been away from Shadow Ridge was the four years he was at college, earning a degree in electrical engineering.
“You’re an engineer?” I asked, surprised. “I thought you were …” I clamped my lips shut before I could stuff my foot in there completely.
“Just a farmer?” he finished with a wry grin.
“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “That was incredibly rude, especially coming from a pub waitress.”
“No offense taken,” he said easily. “My family has been farming this land for generations. It’s good, honest work, and there’s no shame in that. But my parents insisted we attend college or learn a trade so we would have something to fall back on.” He laughed. “I did both. I got my degree, then apprenticed in the trade.”
“Overachiever, huh?”
“Not really. Sitting behind a desk wasn’t for me. I need to be outside, and I like working with my hands. Farming isn’t the only Ziegler family business, you know. We have a construction company too. In addition to helping out around here on nights and weekends, I’m also a certified master electrician by day.”
“Wow,” I said, genuinely impressed.
“And something tells me you are way more than a pub waitress, Casey.”
He cast a probing glance my way. I said nothing, neither confirming nor denying. Thankfully, I didn’t have to. We ended up back at the barn where we’d started, and everyone was climbing into the back of the big wagon for the haunted hayride.
“Looks like I’m up,” Steve said.
I felt a stab of disappointment that my time with Steve had come to an end. I’d enjoyed his company. Sure, he was gorgeous and gave me the tinglies in all the right places, but he was also funny, intelligent, modest, and easy to be around.
“Thank you for showing me around. You’re an excellent tour guide.”
“You’re not coming on the hayride?” he asked, frowning slightly.
“No. Not my thing.”
“You could sit up front in the cab with me. Climate-controlled, lots of speakers, and awesome cupholders.” He said the last with a waggle of his brows, as if that could entice me.
It couldn’t, buthecould.
I was tempted, but no. I’d already pushed the boundaries where he was concerned. Besides, with everyone else on the hayride, I could make a quiet escape.
I shook my head and stepped back. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“Come on, Casey!” Michelle called from the wagon, patting an open space on the bale beside her.
I waved dismissively. “You guys go ahead.”
Shouts of, “Don’t be a chicken!” mixed with, “Ah, come on,” and, “But you have to come.”
I ignored them. I’d heard enough stories over the past few weeks to know that the haunted hayride wasn’t for me. The thought of someone jumping out of the darkness was enough to make my blood run cold and send me spiraling into a panic attack that not even Steve’s mysterious calming powers would have a prayer of holding at bay.
“You’re going to stick around, right?” Steve asked.
The idea of spending more time was Steve was appealing, if ill-advised, but I could see where this evening was headed. Shannon’s husband and CJ were well on their way to being drunk, and Rose wasn’t far behind. I had no problem with people letting loose and having a good time, but I had no desire to watch the evening degrade to the level I thought it would.
“I should probably go.”
“What if I said please?”
He looked at me with those beautiful eyes, and I felt myself falling into them again. Falling … and caving.
