“And Lanie, you’ll?—”
“I’ll be at the front office with the new girl,” she interrupts. “Ready to meet the masses waiting to fall in love with mud and overpriced gourds.”
I fight the urge to sigh. Her sarcasm is getting old.
“What can you tell us about the new girl?” I ask instead.
“She’s good.” Lanie scrolls through the tablet in her hand. “She just moved here a few weeks ago.”
“Where’s she from?”
“San Francisco. Apparently her old job downsized and she was a casualty.”
I suck in a breath. “That’s rough.”
“She’s making the best of it. She decided to come stay at her family’s old hunting cabin while she regroups.” Lanie lifts a shoulder. “I think she’ll be good.”
“Good.” I nod and rise to my feet and extend a hand. “Well, with that, should we bring it in?”
There’s a chorus of groans, but my siblings stand up and hold their hands out to stack one on top of the other.
“Carver Family Pumpkin Patch on three.” I give the count.
“Carver Family Pumpkin Patch,” we call out in unison.
A flicker of hope sparks low in my chest. It’s small, but I’ve seen what a single ember can do if you nurture it long enough.
And if there’s one thing I’m still damn good at—it’s keeping the fire burning.
TWO
TRICIA
“This isn’t right.”
I double-check the scheduling software on the tablet, hoping my eyes are lying.
They aren’t. The bus that just pulled up outside the office doors is definitely here.
A week earlier than scheduled.
“Oh, no.” I shake my head. “No, no, no, no, no.”
The door folds open and children pour out, bouncing around like kernels of corn hitting the oil. A teacher calls out names and tells them to wait until it’s time to go in.
“You’ll have a long wait,” I mutter to myself. “Your scheduled arrival time isn’t until next week.”
As if she has a sixth sense, Lanie’s voice crackles over the radio. “I need to make one more stop before I head back to the office. Is everything okay up there, new girl?”
“Define not okay.” I mumble to myself. Taking a deep breath, I pull the walkie talk up to my lips and speak into it. “We just had a bus load of kids pull up.”
There’s a crackle over the radio. “Did you say a bus of kids?”
“That’s a big 10-4,” I respond. “I think they’re part of the field trip that was scheduled fornextWednesday.”
Before she can answer, someone clears her throat on the other side of the window.
“Hi, and welcome to Carver Family Pumpkin Patch,” I say as brightly as possible while still panicking on the inside. “How can I help you?”
