Page 16 of A Troll in the Hay
“Yeah, we did. I got halfway home, then remembered Maryanne telling me to bring a bushel of apples so she can make two hundred turnovers for the elementary school bake sale, so I circled back. Saw the trailer sitting unloaded when I came around and figured you must’ve been called away before you got the bins off the wagon, so I thought I’d grab the forklift and take care of them before the storm rolls in.” Andy hooks a thumb toward the sky outside. “Rain’s on the way in. Maybe five minutes out, max.”
Good man, good intentions, bad timing. “I appreciate you stepping up. Just got sidetracked talking, but I’ll get the apples unloaded and stacked now. Grab whatever you need and give your wife my best.”
“Will do,” he says, nodding. “Have a good night.”
Once he’s out of view, I step to the drive shed’s opening and listen for the sound of his engine in theparking lot, then for gravel crunching under tires. Satisfied we’re truly alone, I turn and find Hope standing nearby.
“Sorry for putting you in an awkward situation with one of your employees,” she says.
“You have nothing to apologize for.Iam sorry for compromising you. I should not have touched you without the guarantee of privacy.”
“I think it’s safe to say neither of us was aware the rest of the world even existed in that moment.” Eyes twinkling and lips curved in a smile, she points toward the sky. “But I think your guy is right about the rain. Is there any way I can help? I know literally nothing about farming or equipment, but I take direction well and I’m not afraid to work my butt off.”
Her offer brings my heart joy. But she’s not dressed for farm work, explaining even the basic tasks would take time to ensure she’s safe on the job, and raindrops have begun to dot the ground, with the clouds appearing ready to erupt.
“Don’t worry about gently declining my help, Ogram. I know I’d just slow you down. Go do what you need to do. I’ll wait.”
“I have two more wagons to bring in from the field after these bins are unloaded and stacked, then some other jobs to do before I can dedicate my attention to you the way you deserve.”
“Even your dirty talk is sweet,” she says, stepping close enough to pull me down for a kiss. “And that was the nicest ‘get out of here’ I’ve ever heard.” Giggling atthe obvious distress on my face—because I absolutely did not instruct her to get out of here—she kisses me again, then moves away, waving as she walks backward in the direction of the parking lot. “I’m going to The Corner Bar to listen to a vampire opera singer perform! Can you believe that? I love it here! I left my number with the girl in the market store today, so text me whenever you’re ready to dedicate your attention to me the way I deserve, and I’ll hurry back to do the same—or test the limits of my gag reflex trying, anyway!”
Tempting as her suggestion is, I have another plan. One she won’t expect. Something I never expected to do, especially voluntarily. But for her, with her, I’d do just about anything.
Chapter Seven
HOPE
The Corner Bar is as cozy and charming inside as its red-brick exterior. Despite being early autumn and past the summer tourist season, the pub is shoulder to shoulder with patrons, and has been since shortly after I arrived.
After not being able to catch a server’s attention through Mari, the hauntingly beautiful vampireformeropera singer’s, first set, I lined up at the bar. Nobody seemed to notice or care about the wide variety of species with whom they were sharing closed quarters. Another example of how different Harmony Glen is from my hometown.
When I finally reached the polished wood with its classic bronze rail, a forty-something blonde woman with a fading summer tan, warm hazel eyes, and natural beauty welcomed me with a kind but unmistakably tired smile. Whether it’s food or drinks, the job is essentiallythe same, and I know the look of someone who’s doing more than one person’s work.
That’s why instead of ordering a drink, I offered to stand in for whoever no-showed or called in sick. And to my happy surprise, the woman—Cate, the bar owner—accepted.
Which is why I’m weaving through the crowd with a tray of drinks perched on one ever-steady hand when I spot him.Him, him. Waving my free hand, I catch his eye and give him what I hope is the universal signal to wait right there. Then serve out the orders at lightning speed.
“You’re here,” I squeal when I reach him. “Oh shit, did I miss your message, and you’re here because I didn’t answer?” I fish my phone out of my pocket, but he catches my hand before I can swipe the screen to check notifications.
“I’m here to join you, if the invitation from yesterday still stands.”
The invitation. Myduhmoment when I asked him to go to bar with me immediately after he told me he doesn’t do well in group settings. An invitation he declined, albeit it indirectly. And now he’s here. Someone who prefers solitude, in what must be the most crowded place in town this Saturday night. To be with me.
“If that is no longer what you want…” he says when I continue to silently gape.
“I do, it is, it definitely is, I’m just shocked speechless, is all. Which is shocking in itself, I know. But it’s good silent. Happy silent. Really happy.” Then I remember there’s a serving tray hanging from my other hand. “Shoot, but I’m also working, and I don’t want to let Cate down. She’s the owner, but you probably knew that since you’ve both been in the area for years, and I know you have a lot of business connections through the farm. She was so relieved when I offered to cover because she was short-staffed tonight.”
Ogram’s thick eyebrows pinch together at the bridge of his nose. “You know Cate?”
“I do now. I met her tonight.”
“You came to listen to a singing performance, and now you work here.” It’s a statement, but he says it slowly, as if he’s trying to make sense of it.
“Well, I’m working heretonight, but,” I let my gaze drift around the busy pub, “I’d say yes if Cate asked me to help out again.”
“While you’re on vacation?”
The question snaps my attention back to Ogram. It’s a simple question. Yes or no. My answer definitely isn’t no, but yes isn’t right, either. So I hum “mm-hmm” and nod.