“Then that’s settled,” she said. “We’ll plan on Kristen planting her corn Wednesday, and once she gets the hang of it, she and I’ll split up and tackle the rest of the fields. We’ll have a couple months of nurturing, and then we’ll harvest quality crops so we can plead a better case at the next meeting.”
Mitch bit his tongue and turned away. Good Lord, the stubborn woman had no idea what she was up against.
“Can we go now?” Dylan asked, trudging up.
Sadie skipped behind him, clutching her doll to her chest.
“Nope. We got flyers to hang and strawberries to pass out.” Emmy ruffled Dylan’s hair, then took Sadie’s hand and walked to the door, announcing along the way, “Anyone interested in some fresh strawberries is welcome to swing by my truck on the way out. I brought a free bucketful for every member of the committee.”
Bud’s eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to bribe us, Mrs. Emmy?”
“Nah. Just thought your wife might like a sweet batch for the shortcake she makes. It’s about that time of year, ain’t it?”
Bud returned Emmy’s stare, his mouth twitching, as he rubbed his belly, and then he slowly followed her to the door. “I suppose I can’t argue with you on that. Highlight of my day is a good dessert.” He paused on the threshold. “But that’s got nothing to do with my decision on this bypass.”
“Of course it doesn’t,” Emmy chided. “I’m just giving you a taste of what Hart’s Hollow Farm has to offer nowadays.”
She left, and the others soon followed. Mitch moved to the window and watched the group gather around Emmy’s truck. Dylan climbed in the bed and passed out buckets. Emmy’s smile grew wider with each thank-you.
Shaking his head, Mitch shoved his hands in his pockets. Why in hell had he let a few choice words from Ruth Ann shame him into staying? Why hadn’t he just left when he had the chance? All any of this would do—including his staying—would be to encourage Emmy’s hopes, then intensify her misery over the unavoidable outcome.
“What a mess,” he whispered. “What a depressing, dead-end mess.”
Something soft brushed his elbow, and a light, sweet fragrance drifted near.
“Not necessarily.” Kristen had joined him by the window and had adopted the same pose. “Nothing is ever certain.” A thread of pain laced her quiet tone.
Her gaze was fixed on the activity outside, but he couldn’t tear his attention away from the shadows dimming her bright eyes or the sad tilt of her lush mouth.
His palms ached to cradle her face, and his lips tingled with the need to drift light kisses along her smooth forehead and flushed cheeks. He longed to coax the soft corners of her pink lips up and hear her fleeting, cheerful laugh again. Taste the sweetness of her mouth with his own.
All of this reminded Mitch of exactly why he’d chosen to stay.
CHAPTER 6
“So, what do you think?”
Kristen tipped her head back farther and took in the large tractor in front of her. The soft early morning sunlight barely peeked above the flat land in front of them, casting a hazy glow through the clear windows of the spacious cab and highlighting the deep green body and yellow trim. Enormous black tires—eight of them maybe?—supported the massive piece of machinery and raised it high off the ground, and she’d have to climb five steps to reach the driver’s seat.
“What do I think?” Kristen shook her head and whistled low. “It’s a beast.”
A deep chuckle sounded at her back, and cheeks warming, she spun and faced Mitch. He stood a few feet away, propping his fists on his lean, jean-clad hips as he looked up at Lee’s tractor. The action raised his chin, exposing the strong column of his throat, and stretched his blue T-shirt across the ropy bulk of his shoulders and chest.
“A beast, huh?” His voice was still husky with the lingering effects of sleep, but his eyes brightened when he glanced at her. He smiled wider and dragged a hand through his hair, tousling the dark waves. “It looks that mean to you?”
Uh-uh. Her eyes clung to the sensual curves of his sculpted mouth. More like tender, charming, and . . . sexy.
Belly tightening deliciously, Kristen jerked her cap lower on her forehead and cleared her throat. Dear sweet heaven, the man was pure sin. “Not mean, exactly.”
She rolled her shoulders, glancing at Emmy and the kids, who stood nearby. Emmy grinned back at her. Sadie rubbed her eyes as she leaned against Emmy’s leg. Dylan sat on the grass, raised his knees, and propped his chin on them, seemingly uninterested and unimpressed. As usual.
“It’s just . . . intimidating,” Kristen added.
After the meeting on Monday night, they’d posted the strawberry flyers around town and returned home. Yesterday Kristen had picked strawberries and filled buckets for the strawberry stand with Emmy and the kids, while Mitch had finalized negotiations with Lee to rent the tractor, then had driven it back to Hart’s Hollow.
“You’ve never driven one before?” Mitch asked.
“No.” Seizing the distraction, she moved closer to the tractor and gripped the edge of one of the large tires. “Nothing like this. The Perrys used only old-school equipment. Simple, low to the ground. Mr. Perry preferred to do the field work himself, and they weren’t big on new technology.”