Page 15 of Falling Like Leaves (Bramble Falls #1)

Mom turns down a narrow dirt road and drives nearly a mile before she reaches an archway that reads PEARSON PUMPKIN FARM .

Clusters of maple and oak trees reflect off a small pond to the right of the entrance, and a field of tall cornstalks sits to the left.

Soon the road opens up to a large asphalt parking lot, where Mom pulls into a spot.

It’s a balmy autumn day, and the sun sits high in a bright blue sky.

The puffy white clouds look straight out of one of Mom’s paintings.

As she leads me to a stand-alone brick building, we pass a concession stand selling coffee, apple cider, and caramel apples.

The sweet smells mix deliciously with the earthy scent of the changing leaves.

I wish I could somehow roll it into a fall-scented candle.

We walk into the small building and find Aunt Naomi talking with a couple of volunteers I recognize from around town. She lights up when she notices us. Once she sends them on their way, she greets us with hugs.

“Ellis, I assigned you to work with Cooper today. Is that okay?” Aunt Naomi asks.

Working with Cooper all day is going to make it really hard to ignore the awkward tension between us, but I don’t want to complicate things for Aunt Naomi, so I shrug and say, “Sure.”

“Great!” She looks at her phone. “He should be about to take the first group to the pumpkin patch if you want to head out to the trailers.”

She points me in the right direction, and I make my way over. I find Cooper leaning against a tree, wearing a simple black T-shirt and dark khaki pants with black Chucks, talking to Sterling, the pizza delivery kid. He laughs at something Sterling says, and I stop in my tracks.

Why do I love that sound so much? And why do I wish I were the one causing it?

“Hey, Ellis,” Sterling says, noticing me standing there watching the two of them.

I wave and finish making my way over. Nearby, a line of people are standing at a trailer filled with bales of hay. A trailer being pulled by… horses?

“Um, why are there horses?” I ask.

“Tried to pull the trailer full of people myself, but couldn’t get it to budge, so…,” Sterling says with a grin.

“Ha-ha,” I deadpan. “I just mean, aren’t these things usually pulled by tractors?”

Cooper pushes off the tree. “Maybe at other places, but in Bramble Falls, the horses are part of the pumpkin patch experience.”

“You two have fun with that,” Sterling says, saluting. “I gotta get back to the concession stand. A customer just showed up.”

“I don’t love horses,” I tell Cooper. I look nervously over my shoulder back toward the food. “Maybe I can switch jobs with Sterling.”

“Have you ever even been around a horse?”

“Irrelevant. Their teeth are big,” I tell him.

“They don’t bite,” he says, smiling. “Usually.”

I frown. “Comforting.”

“You’ll be okay. I promise.”

“But they’re huge. Especially those ones ,” I say, gesturing at the giant monsters attached to the trailer.

“It’s not like you have to get on them. We’re going to sit on that built-in bench at the front of the trailer. I’ll have the reins. You just have to ride next to me and help people when we get to the pumpkin patch.”

I gnaw at my lip, then finally nod. “Yeah, okay.”

I follow Cooper over to the trailer, and he tugs the collapsible steps down so people can climb onto the platform filled with hay bales. As he gets people situated, I slowly inch toward the front to look at the horses. They’re massive, but I have to admit they’re also breathtaking.

When I was younger, I always begged my parents to take me on the horse-drawn carriages in the winter in the city. Dad would scoff and say those things were for tourists, and Mom would give me a weak smile and agree.

“They’re Clydesdales,” Cooper says, coming up behind me. The black one in front of us nods his head. “This is Ink.”

“And the other one?”

“Coffee.”

I look at the brown horse, the color of coffee beans. “Those are great names.” I inch closer to Ink, and his eye watches me. “I always wanted to be an equestrian when I was little.”

“Yeah? And now you’re afraid of horses?” Cooper asks.

I shrug. “Well, I liked the idea of riding them as a kid, but I’d never been around them. Then I got older and realized just how big they are.”

“They’re gentle giants.” He takes a step to his left and pets Ink on the nose. Then he reaches out and wraps his fingers gently around my forearm and pulls me toward him. “Come pet him. He won’t bite you. Or kick you. Or stomp on you. Or whatever else you’re afraid of.”

Cooper is just behind me, his body close enough that I feel safe . Slowly, reluctantly, I reach up toward Ink’s nose, right where Cooper was petting him.

But then Ink shakes his head, abrupt and quick, and I rear back with a scream.

“Fuck!” I hear as my head rams into something—or someone.

When I whip around, Cooper is bent over, holding his face.

“Oh my—I’m so sorry!” I tell him. He doesn’t respond as his back rises and falls with deep breaths. “Are you okay?”

He holds up a finger, telling me to give him a minute.

“Coop, I’m sorry.” I put my hand on his shoulder.

“I’m fine. I just need a second.”

I press my lips together and nod, even though he’s not looking at me.

A great start to making things right between us.

When he finally stands upright, his eyes are watering.

And his nose is bleeding.

“Shit,” I mutter. “Okay, you wait here. I’m going to go get tissues. Or something.”

The entire sprint back to the small building where Aunt Naomi has set up base, I’m grateful I was smart enough to wear my thrifted Frye boots, the kind that can handle a little hay and dirt. Once I’m there, I grab a whole box of tissues and sprint back.

When I get to the trailer, Cooper is finishing apologizing to everyone for the delay. He’s plugging his nose as he makes his way over to me.

He points to my mud-covered feet. “Your boots are ruined.”

“I’m not worried about them. Your nose, on the other hand…” I pull three tissues from the box and hand them to him.

Cooper takes the tissues from me. “My nose will be fine.”

I shake my head. “I’m really sorry.”

“Please stop apologizing.” Cooper shoves a tissue up each nostril until they’re stretched wide and white is hanging out. A laugh bursts out of me, and Cooper smiles. “First you bust my nose; then you laugh at me for bleeding. Damn, Mitchell, you’re brutal.”

“Sor—”

He slaps his hand over my mouth. “Don’t say it.”

I nod and he moves his hand. “Good thing I wore a black shirt today, I guess.”

We both look down at the darker spot from where he used his shirt as a tissue before I got back.

“If you hadn’t, we could have just told everyone this was a haunted hayride.”

He grins. “True. Okay, you ready?”

“Maybe I should stay back.”

“Nope.” He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the front of the trailer. “We’re going to turn this day around.”

He helps me up onto the bench seat behind the horses, then climbs up and sits beside me. He makes an announcement to the people in the trailer behind us, letting them know we’re about to go, then takes the reins.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” I ask.

“Nope,” he says. “This is my first time ever driving this thing, but I’m sure we’ll survive.”

I look at him. With tissues hanging out of his widened nostrils, he looks completely unserious despite his serious expression. “Don’t mess with me, Cooper Barnett.”

He laughs. “I know what I’m doing. I’ve done this every year since I was thirteen. Before that, I rode with my dad. Stop worrying.”

I hold on to the railing beside me. “Okay.”

Cooper clucks his tongue and gently slaps the reins against Ink’s and Coffee’s backs, and we’re off.

The horses pull us down a dirt path lined with trees.

I smile at the gentle clacking of hooves as we ride beneath canopies of red, yellow, and orange.

A gentle breeze sweeps through the trees, and colorful leaves fall like rain all around us.

I laugh, and when I turn to Cooper, he’s watching me with a smile.

“You’re like a little kid,” he says.

“Shut up. I am not.”

“It’s cute.” He shrugs.

I blush as I stick my tongue out at him, and his smile widens. I have to force myself to look away.

When we get to the pumpkin patch, Cooper lets everyone out of the trailer. They disperse, looking for the perfect pumpkins for the pumpkin carving party tomorrow. When I notice a woman trying to carry two pumpkins by herself, I head over to help her.

“I can carry one of those for you,” I tell her, taking one of the pumpkins.

“Thank you so much,” the woman says.

I let her know I’ll put it in the trailer; then I help a kid pick a pumpkin from her selection of three nearly identical ones she’s torn between.

“You picking one for tomorrow?” Cooper asks before we head back.

“I probably should.”

Everyone climbs into the trailer, and Cooper and I walk around until I find the perfect pumpkin—one that actually inspires my idea for what I’ll carve into it.

Cooper’s face contorts when I get it back to the hayride. “Of all the pumpkins here, why are you picking the ugly, warty one?”

“You’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find out,” I say as I climb onto the bench.

“Ah, intrigue.” He grabs the reins. “Guess I have no choice but to hang out with you tomorrow, then.”

My eyes whip to him. Is the icy wall between us finally melting for real? Does he actually forgive me for blowing him off years ago?

Trying not to read too much into it, I face forward and bite back a smile as he gets the horses moving. “Guess so.”

When we get back, Cooper goes to grab an ice pack and throw away the bloody tissues. We spend the rest of the day making trips to the pumpkin patch, and as the hours pass, his swollen nose begins to shrink back to normal.

By the end of our last trip, the sun is low in the sky, and the temperature has dropped. “Do you need help with anything?” I ask as Cooper unhooks the horses from the trailer.