Page 16 of A Simple Life

I was surprised at her words. “Clear the air?”

She sighed. Before she could explain, Abby tugged at my pant leg.

“Are you a farmer?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“Do you have horses and cows?”

I crouched down again. “I have chickens and cows. And lots and lots of plants.”

“What kinds of plants?”

“Corn and soybeans.”

“I like corn. Especially with butter.”

I chuckled. “Me too.”

“What are soybeans?” She looked at her mom. “Do you make soybeans?”

“They’re used in foods, baby,” Quinn explained. “Like an ingredient. You love edamame. I make toasted soybeans for our salads.”

“The crunchy things?”

Quinn smiled—a soft, warm smile that lit up her face. “Yes.” Her expression did something to my insides, making me want to see it again. I shook my head at the strange thought.

I nodded. “They have lots of uses. They’re used to feed animals, make things…”

“What sorts of things?”

I chuckled. Cody used to ask a thousand and one questions about everything.

“Oil, soy milk, tofu, all kinds of items.”

“Cool. Can I see your chickens and cows, Farmer John?”

“Sure.” I set down the basket I was carrying, feeling an odd jump of pleasure as Abby slipped her hand into mine. I showed her the chicken coop, and then we walked to the fence, where I lifted her up so she could watch the cows.

“Can I go closer?”

I glanced at Quinn, who nodded. I set Abby down on the other side of the fence, and she went closer to the small herd, who glanced at her with no interest and went back to chewing grass. She patted their hides, giggling, then raced over to the corner where some wildflowers grew.

“You’re good with kids,” Quinn said softly.

“When I’m not scaring them.”

“Look, the past few days have been, ah, difficult. It was a long drive here. I was tired, anxious, and I wasn’t myself.”

I glanced her way. “You were attacked as well, darlin’.” Why the endearment slipped out again, I had no idea, but I let it go.

“I was annoyed. They didn’t hurt me, thanks to you.”

“Still not a great introduction to the town you planned on living in.”

She frowned, then shook her head. “Regardless, I shouldn’t have jumped on you. And I was grateful for your help. I’m sorry I was rude.”

Her words surprised me, and I turned to face her fully. “I apologize as well. There isn’t a problem with you arriving early, and I don’t care if there is a husband in the picture or not. Single mothers are incredibly strong, and I admire that. I wasn’t offering to pay for the paint because of that, but because I take care of the houses I own. I want my tenants happy.”