Page 53 of Manors & Mischief

“Well, judging by the reception I got at the café earlier, people are heavily invested in how this will turn out for us.”

“Bea?”

“There was more.”

I laugh. “You know, I kind of love that. It feels sort of like the Hallmark movies I love to watch.”

“You say that now but wait until there’s a spotlight on us for everything. First date, first kiss, first⁠—.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

He peers over. “I don’t think I am.”

The fear I felt earlier gives way to expectation. It’s like he’s priming me for things to come, pressing that certain button that starts me up just like he did with the lawn mower engine.

I don’t know how to respond, so I don’t. I just watch the scenery go by as we head outside of town. I realize now that I haven’t explored much as a new street greets me and another and another until we’re definitely in the country. Fields and sparse houses backdropped by a fading sun, oranges and pinks filling the sky.

“Here we are,” he says, pulling into a field that’s surrounded by yellow tape. They definitely only use this for a parking lot during the fall. We’re just to the south of a modern farmhouse, black with dark wood columns.

“It’s pretty.”

“They’ve been farming this land for as long as I can remember. They just do the hayride and corn maze during this time of year, and then they have a Christmas tree farm during the winter.”

I clap my hands together. “I was actually thinking the other day where I would put the Christmas tree. Do you remember where the Lewises put theirs?”

“They had several,” he says. “Christmas was Mrs. Lewis’s favorite holiday. They had a tree right in the middle of the foyer, one in the sitting room, and then I was told there was one in their bedroom, but I never saw that one first-hand.”

“Imagine having a house so big that it supports all those Christmas trees.”

He laughs at me. “You do.”

A surprised giggle escapes my throat. “I keep drawing a line between me and them, but I guess I do have all that room! That would be fun. At least a full two trees to decorate. Maybe they could have different themes.”

He parks the truck and stops me when I try to get out. “I’m the gentleman today. Wait right there.”

He jogs over to my side of the truck and helps me down. “You’ve certainly changed from the guy who left me in a hole in the porch,” I greet him with.

“Not my finest moment.”

“Funny though.”

“I thought it was funnier when it was you and not me.”

I loop my arm through his and pat his shoulder. “Good thing you’ve fixed that so neither one of us will be tempted to let the other rot in the porch with one foot dangling into oblivion.”

“I can be grateful for that.”

I let Devon lead me toward the festivities. There’s a pumpkin patch and an apple cider booth. Everywhere I look, there are fall decorations. Scarecrows and hay bales. Cartoon green witches and ghosts. A children’s playground boasts the most people as well as a little shop.

“We have to get tickets for the hayride, and then we get on it there.” He points out an area that’s currently roped off. “The track takes us through the woods, but in the meantime, we can check out the pumpkins and drink cider. Sometimes they have craft things to do for the kids.”

“This place is awesome,” I tell him. “How cool, and everyone is having a blast.”

I try not to let my mind wander toward business ideas, but I can’t help myself. They’ve made the hayride a destination. It’s not just a spot where you get on a wooden trailer pulled by a tractor, they’ve offered activities for everyone to do or see.

“I can see your mind working,” Devon teases.

“Sorry.”