Page 12 of Till The Cows Come Home

Chapter Eleven

Miles

S age and I had met every single morning for almost a week now, and I quickly realized the aggressiveness I initially sensed was actually just a defense mechanism to guard all the soft gooey parts she was protecting.

I snuck a few momentary glances behind the wall she surrounded herself with and began to understand the reasons she built it in the first place, most of it being her own self sabotaging vision of her success.

“Question.”

“Sage, this is your fifth twentieth question.”

“Not all of us can hoard their questions.”

“You don’t let me get a word in to even ask with all your yapping.”

“Are you going to let me ask or not?”

“Fine. Go ahead”

“Do you think you could show me how to age cheese?”

I looked up. That one caught me off guard.

Most of Sage’s questions were just downright nosey.

She’d asked me everything from my shoe size to how many girlfriends I’d had in my lifetime, which was apparently not enough in her opinion, but she’d never asked me for anything.

It took me a moment to tame my excitement over what I considered a milestone within our friendship, and attempted to play it cool.

“Sure.”

“Sure? That’s it?”

Apparently I played it a little too cool.

“Sorry, ask me again. Really sell your interest, though.”

“Dear lumberist of jacks, could you please show me your expansive skill set in regards to hard cheese production.”

“I would be honored, but unfortunately it may have to wait a bit. I gotta go to the market and then I have about a hundred things to complete afterwards.”

“Why don’t you just hire help? You’re always running around here like a chicken with its head cut off.”

“Help costs money, my friend.”

“Well since we're friends now, I could give you a hand. Your disorganization gives me immense anxiety.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“No, I’d be doing it for me. I wouldn’t mind milking on the weekends. Maybe I can take over Saturday mornings so you have less to do before the market? And afterwards I can work on clearing up the registrations. And if you don’t mind, I'd like to keep feeding Blossom in the mornings.”

“I don’t mind at all, but about the market…I was hoping eventually you’d come with me.”

“Why?” she asked, her nose involuntarily scrunching up at the idea.

“This town is loyal to your family. I see that the community is interested in the products, but people are deterred when they look up and see a stranger. If they saw you, someone they already love, I think they’d be drawn in.”

“So you’d be using me?”

“Yeah, basically.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” I questioned, my brain confused by the suspicious lack of turmoil, but she didn’t offer any additional comments, just a quick chuckle, which caused word vomit to flow from my lips.

“This is going to be so great. They’re going to love seeing you. Sometimes they ask about you now and I just make shit up. Last week I told someone that you shaved off all your hair after a mental breakdown.”

“Miles!”

“What? You think they’ll support me if I tell them I broke you after buying your farm?”

“You did not break me.”

I stopped, my eyebrows raised to my hairline as I looked into Sage’s eyes.

“Alright, you broke me a little. But I don’t attribute it to you specifically. It was your actions that inadvertently shattered my hopes and dreams.”

“Ah, yes, much better.”

She just shrugged.

This was us now, candid and slightly unhinged, and it was honestly refreshing.

“So you’ll come sometime?"

“ Sure ,” she answered, her words oozing with sarcasm.

“I’m ignoring your mockery in order to bask in how awesome this is. Not only will people be happy to know those luscious locks grew back, but they’ll be even happier to know you’re involved again. It’s closely the greatest marketing scheme ever. A Baker running the Baker Farm stand!”

When I looked down at Sage, her eyes were following me closely, a tinge of blush creeping across her cheeks and I quickly sat back down next to her, assuming she was experiencing second hand embarrassment from my tangent.

“Sorry, usually when I get excited it’s just the cows around. ”

“It’s not that. It's just the last time you got worked up you picked me up off my feet. I was bracing for impact.”

“That won’t happen again. I’m not offering you this in exchange for your affection. Consider my behavior from now on to be mostly professional.”

“Mostly professional,” she echoed, but the slight disappointment in her response didn’t go unnoticed.

I turned towards her, my knees resting against hers. The slight touch sent a wave of heat through me, and I could tell she mirrored the sentiment as pink spread further across her cheeks.

“Sage, if you’ve learned anything about our lives, it’s that nothing has been easy.

You know you intrigue the hell out of me, it’s why I started asking you all these questions, so don’t take my professionalism for disinterest. The reason we’re in this mess is because I saw a beautiful woman and couldn’t stay away.

But you’ve had so much taken from you, I refuse to take any more.

Any moves past our friendship will be yours to make. ”

“I didn’t question your professionalism because I wanted something more, I questioned it because I can’t imagine you acting even relatively normal, let alone professional.”

“Really? Because the thought of me picking you up again has you looking like a tomato.”

“You know, your lack of lifetime girlfriends makes more sense by the minute.”

“Whatever, it’s my turn for a question.”

“Wow, this is your nineteenth. Go forth.” She ushered, waving her hand in front of us.

“When’s the last time you let someone love you?”

I guess we were both full of surprises today, because Sage's eyes darted to mine, her barely recovering cheeks deepening again.

“Platonically or romantically? ”

“Either.” I shrugged.

“Romantically? Perhaps never. I think I was always too obsessed with proving I could run a farm and be independent that I never let anyone get that close. Platonically, I have Asher.”

“That’s Ruby’s boy, right?”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “When he was born a part of me was healed. I don’t have any siblings so my experience with babies was pretty minimal, and I didn’t realize their love at that age is so…

unconditional. They don’t try to see through you, your motives, your past, it’s just whatever is in front of them.

Even I couldn’t deprive myself of that kind of raw affection. ”

“I’m glad you have him.”

“Me too.” She smiled.

My eyes just so happened to notice the clock behind Sage, and I glanced at my wrist to confirm that it was actually as late as it displayed.

“Shit,” I cursed. “I need to leave. Like now. I’m sorry, I want to hear more?—”

“Can I come with you?” she interrupted.

“ Sure ,” I winked, “but we're gonna have to haul ass.”

She immediately rose from her chair, clinking her mug against the one I held limply in my own hand before draining its contents, and all I could do was shake my head, accepting my fate. This woman was going to be the love of my life or my demise and I had given away the reins.

“Ready?”

I chugged the contents of my own mug, standing to take hers before depositing both into the sink.

“Ready,” I confirmed.

In my makeshift creamery I’d boxed up most of the things I planned to bring to the market, storing them stacked in the cooler until I was ready to leave .

“I just need to load these crates into the truck and then we're set. The table and tent are already in the back.”

I grabbed the first crate and when I turned to get another, Sage had stepped in, loading the next. “I can get these,“ I said, grabbing the edge of the crate she had in her hands. Each held twenty bottles of milk and I was familiar with the lingering burn in my biceps after a truckload.

She swiftly pulled the edge of the crate from my grasp.

“You should know better than to do that. If I need you to be a knight and shining armor, I’ll ask. Until then don’t treat me like a damsel in distress and try to call it chivalry.”

She turned from me, placing the crate on the edge of the truck bed with ease, and when she turned around, I hadn’t moved.

“We won't ever get anything done if you’re just gonna stand around,” she said, but the sternness in her voice had dissolved into something more playful.

“You’re something else, Sage Baker.”

“Chop chop!” she demanded, and I couldn’t contain the full belly laugh that escaped me.

“Yes ma’am,” I said, bowing my head.

We continued loading, alternating crates like a well-oiled relay team, finishing in almost exactly half the time that it took me to do it myself.

We arrived at the market amongst the other vendors setting up, not as far behind as I worried we would be thanks to Sage’s help, and with her there, unloading the crates was a breeze.

I raised the tent while Sage arranged the table, and when I was done, I joined her, expecting to help her finish, but she already had it settled and looking better than I ever had.

“Where did you get a tablecloth? ”

“It was in the barn with our old market stuff,” she said, pulling my arm until my ear was level with her lips.

As if not to alert any patrons of her next words, she whispered, “you’re handsome enough to draw in some customers, but your setup looked like you were selling cheese out of the back of a van.

” Letting go of my arm, she turned away, pulling out a cutting board.

“Also, always offer samples. It lets the people who don’t know you earn your trust through your product. ”

How had I not thought of any of this?

I made a mental note to work on marketing, and while Sage finished poking toothpicks through little blocks of cheese, I grabbed milk from the crates to set up the display cooler. When it was just about full, Sage sauntered over, and when she saw my efforts she just shook her head.

“No one can see anything but the caps. You’re loading it like it’s beers at a frat party.”

She immediately began rearranging my work, tilting the bottles so the farm logo was showing.

“See? Much better.”

“You’re right.”

Sage reached around her pockets searching frantically until she found her phone, and confusion washed through me as she held it between us.

“Can you say that again? I want to record it.”

“Go stand behind the table.” I laughed, playfully swatting her phone away from me. “I gotta grab the cash box.”

I ran to my truck to retrieve it and as I walked back I was surprised to see Sage had actually listened to me.

Her playfulness had disappeared, though, and she inhaled deeply as the patrons began entering the park, almost as if she was readying herself for the unknown of it all.

But before I had even made it back to the table, she was spotted, countless eyes lighting up with recognition .

People really did love her.

Aside from restocking the milk cooler and making change, I stood back, allowing Sage to run the show, and man, was she a natural.

She explained the cheese-making process, turning to me to explain the processes she didn’t know, and once they understood, she recommended other local products to pair it with.

All the while she simultaneously remained attentive to everyone that stopped by.

“Some man just came up to my stall and said a pretty girl suggested he pair the cheese he got with my bagel chips. Imagine my confusion when I look up and see the star crossed enemies running the farm stand together.”

Sage looked back to me for help, but I raised my hands in surrender. I’d been in the middle of enough squabbles with Beth to know better.

“We have a business deal,” Sage responded coolly.

“Ahh, do the googly eyes from tall and handsome happen to come with this deal?”

“The googly eyes are customary for all pretty women, Beth. That’s why I always have them around you,” I added, trying my best to shield Sage from embarrassment.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, baby. I just came over to let you kids know I’m happy you’re playing nice. You look good back behind this table.”

Beth’s stamp of approval earned her a kiss that Sage affectionately planted on the old woman’s cheek.

“Thanks Beth,” she whispered.

The market was slammed and a couple of hours later, Sage called to me to grab another crate of bottles. When I dropped the tailgate though, the bed was empty.

We were out.

I walked behind Sage, lowering my mouth to her ear, chuckling as the hairs on her neck rose.

“We're out,” I whispered .

“What?” she asked, spinning around so fast that our faces almost collided.

“Sorry folks,” I called out, momentarily ignoring the big blue eyes gazing up at me. “We’re sold out! We have some business cards out front if you’d like to contact the farm to make additional orders. Thank you everyone for your support!”

As I watched the crowd disperse, I could feel Sage’s gaze fixed on me and I stumbled backwards at the sudden crash of her body against mine as she wrapped her arms around me.

A misplaced crate sent me onto my back and when I landed, Sage was on top of me.

She pressed her forehead to mine, her body shuddering as silent laughter coursed through her.

Tears streamed down her face as she tried to rein herself in, but when my own chuckle escaped, we both lost it.

We laid that way for a while, shielded by the walls of the tent, and it wasn’t until we caught our breath that the realization hit.

Sage was still on top of me. Our bodies were blissfully connected, and I became acutely aware of my hands resting on the curves of her hips.

Her face reddened as if her mind was going through the same motions, but she didn’t move, not until her eyes fluttered closed and in that moment, I realized she wasn’t pulling away.

Sage was leaning in.