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We’d also scrounged up food trucks with everything from tacos to ribs to donuts and an ice cream truck to boot. Music played all over through a speaker system we’d set up, playing classic rock and honky-tonk with the occasional country song mixed in for good measure.
Fourth of July wasn’t Fourth of July without a little Reba.
And so as dusk settled in on a very busy day, I sat on my front porch, watching all the smiling faces with a smile of my own. Jolene lay stretched out on her back next to me, gnawing on a rawhide pinned between her paws. Willie Nelson played in the distance, the sky a shade of deep violet. Naked bulbs stretched out in zigzags over the whole operation.
It’d cost a small fortune, but we’d made a moderate fortune. And what I hoped would be a new town tradition had brought the community together in a way I believed would last. I wanted our farm to be a permanent fixture in their holidays. Pumpkins in the fall, Christmas market and trees in the winter, Easter egg hunts in the spring.
If I was here that long. The way things were looking, I thought I might have a chance.
Ironically, that was in large part thanks to Jake. Before the door debacle, he’d said he’d stay out of my way when he didn’t mean it. But this time, he’d stepped aside. It helped that I included him and didn’t openly defy him—quiet defiance was still occasionally underway, though only with inconsequential things, which he deliberately looked the other way on. There was some grumbling, some money crunching, and some compromise, but he’d even gone out of his way to help me. This event was the big test.
For the first time, I saw the possibility of a happy partnership.
Movement at the edge of the crowd caught my eye, and from the throng emerged Chase Patton, hands in his pockets and a smile on his face as he strode toward me.
Warmth bloomed on my cheeks, my fingers moving to fiddle with a lock of hair. I’d seen Chase a few times, mostly at Buffalo Joe’s when I went with Presley. Being around him felt like a cardinal sin. A Patton and a Brent, friendly.
But he was impossible not to like. I probably should have assumed whatever he said was some sort of trap, but I couldn’t seem to muster up the energy.
Chase climbed the steps. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey back,” I answered.
When he leaned toward me, I froze, hoping to God he wasn’t going to kiss me. At the last second, he winked, making for Jolene.
“There’s my girl,” he cooed, scratching her belly before glancing back at me. “Sorry—didn’t see you there.”
Laughing, I gave him a little shove. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I wanted to see what you did with the place.” He picked up Jolene and sat next to me, holding her like a baby to scratch her belly. “I’m damn impressed. I don’t think this town’s seen such a to-do in twenty years. And it looks like you’ve pulled people in from all over.”
“The power of social media.”
He chuckled. “Your Instagram in particular. I swear, I don’t think I’ve heard Courtney and Kendall so excited about something since the cheerleading squad made the local championship. And let’s be honest—the bar was low on that account. How do you come up with all that content? You’re putting our team to shame. Not too hard, considering our team is one guy named Dan.”
“I dunno. It’s just second nature, I guess. Life amuses me, especially the awkward parts. So I take a cute picture, make a little joke. Ninety percent of it is unscripted.”
“I hope so, because if you’d planned to get kicked by a goat last week, it’d be a whole new level of crazy.”
“I still have a bruise,” I said, lifting the hem of my tank to expose my ribs where the green ghost of a bruise still sat. “Sharon knocked the wind out of me—apparently, she wasn’t the goat to learn how to clip hooves on.”
“Sharon, Brenda, Barbara, Susan. Do they get together regularly for Avon parties?”
“Tupperware. And the occasional game of canasta. Linda is the top of the phone tree, though. Don’t let Patty tell you otherwise.”
He shook his head, rolling his lips to pretend to suppress a smile. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“Why, thank you, sir. I generally shoot for tolerable to adequate, so it’s good to know I’m hitting the mark.”
“How about I buy you a drink and we’ll see if I can’t win you one of the big stuffed animals?”
“Don’t waste your money. Those are just a scam, you know—unattainable.”
With a clever smile, he said, “Nothing’s unattainable if you try hard enough.”
“Spoken like a true rich guy,” I teased.
He hissed and rubbed his chest. “You wound me. I don’t know if you know this, but I’m an ace, and I’m feeling lucky tonight.” With an endearing smirk, he added, “Plus, who doesn’t need a pink three-foot-tall stuffed kangaroo?”
