Page 57 of A Simple Life

“Okay.”

Bending forward, I kissed her. Softly. I let her feel what I was feeling in that moment.

Then Abby ran in.

“Eww…again?” She scrambled up on her chair. “Can we have cobbler, or are you gonna keep kissing?”

I grinned against Quinn’s mouth. “Both, I hope.”

She pulled back, touching my bottom lip. “I’d say your chances were good, Farmer John.”

“Excellent.”

The days passed, somehow more quickly than before. My life seemed busier. Fuller. I realized it was because of the addition of two special people. Quinn and Abby were a constant now. I would drop by the restaurant for lunch. Go to Quinn’s place in the evening, or she would come to the farmhouse. We saw each other most days. The ones we didn’t seemed lonelier somehow. The more time we spent together, the closer we became. Quinn was more relaxed, the smile on her face now reaching her eyes. She was adjusting to her new life and seemed to love small-town living. Her friend Cathy came to see her, and I met her, seemingly getting her approval. We made plans to have dinner together with her and her husband one night. I knew the two women spoke on the phone often, and I was glad Quinn had a friend close by.

Abby resembled all the other kids her age. Running around, her feet dirty, hair mussed, and enjoying the freedom of summer and living a life without the boundaries her father had constantly placed on them. Her childish laughter rang out all the time. She was affectionate and open.

When I said so to Quinn, she had winked at me. “You’re pretty affectionate and open, too.”

She was right. Since the day she had kissed me at the restaurant, I’d had no issues pulling her in for a hug when I would see her. Kiss her tempting lips. Run my hand through her silky hair if I had the chance. She often laughed as I hauled her by the straps of the denim overalls she loved to wear to get her close enough to kiss, regardless of who was watching. At first, people seemed shocked, but now, they barely looked. It was the same with Abby. Anytime she saw me, I was greeted as if I’d been gone for months instead of a day, at times, even a matter of hours. They each made me feel special for different reasons.

And they made me smile more than I could recall doing my entire life.

My only complaint was the private time I got to spend with Quinn was rare. A few stolen hours after Abby fell asleep. The occasional late afternoon when Quinn was finished working and Abby was at a playdate. I couldn’t get enough of being with Quinn. Touching her soft skin. Tasting her. Being buried inside her. Hearing her whispers, the low gasps of delight, the long moans, and the way she breathed out my name as she climaxed.

I was addicted.

But I knew I had to be patient. She was still finding her feet after her horrible marriage, and I grappled with trust at times. We knew we needed to allow time to heal and find our footing together in this relationship.

Some days were harder than others.

Summer heat began to build, and the fields needed extra attention. I was preparing the new land for a crop of fall rye. It was the right location on the property, and the produce had lots of usage. Quinn and Laura had worked the old garden, and I had rebuilt the fence around it to keep the animals out. Vegetables were growing, the plants once again thriving. My gramps would be thrilled to see it.

Watching Quinn work in the garden brought back so many memories. My grandmother tending the plants with Gramps beside her. My mom in the garden, helping. Me learning so much.

I wiped my forehead, peering up at the relentless sun. I turned the hose to my head, letting the cold water run over my scalp and face. It felt good. My shirt was soaked when I shook my head, the water scattering huge drops everywhere. The sun would dry it soon enough. It had been a solid week without a break in the high temperatures. Shading my eyes, I looked over the fields, worried about the water usage, the crops surviving, and work we needed to do to ensure it. I looked back at the garden beds, wishing a hose and a few moments of water worked the same on the large acreage, then shook my head at the thoughts.

If wishes were horses…was a saying my gramps would mutter when a neighbor wished for rain, for more sun, for whatever they needed at the moment. The truth was, all a farmer could do was keep working, tending, and praying. I knew that all too well.

Quinn and Abby were coming over tonight. We planned another evening by the watering hole, the water refreshing and helping to keep us cool. I had bought and built a gazebo, which offered us great shade. Bob and I had added some chairs and a nice table, and we made great use of it. Quinn was bringing a cold dinner we would eat in the shade, and I had a large jar of iced tea brewing in the sun, the way Mom had done for years. I added lemons, limes, and grapefruit, then sweetened it with honey the way she had taught me. Quinn loved it, exclaiming over the burst of citrus. Abby wasn’t particularly interested, but she adored the watermelon lemonade I always had on hand for her.

I heard Quinn’s SUV, turning and waving as she got out, helping Abby from the back. They headed over, Abby greeting me in her usual exuberant fashion. “Farmer John! You’ll never guess what happened today!”

Quinn took the hose from me, and I brushed a kiss to her mouth before hunching in front of Abby. “What, Pumpkin?”

“I went down the slide too fast, and Joey was standing in front of it. I yelled, but he didn’t move. I knocked him over, and he got mad and he pushed me. Bethy punched Joey and knocked his tooth right out!”

Bethy was Abby’s “bestest” friend. She was wild. Rough and tough and didn’t put up with any shit from anyone. And she loved Abby fiercely and was very protective. Hearing she’d punched a boy wasn’t a shock, although I was sure her dad wasn’t happy. Since his wife had left him, he’d been trying to tame Bethy, but she was incredibly determined and outspoken.

“Did she apologize?” I asked, lifting my gaze to Quinn, who shook her head, trying not to laugh.

“Nope. He was madder than a hornet, but Bethy told him not to be such a whiny baby and to put the tooth under a pillow, and he’d get money. He was happy then.”

I tried not to laugh. “Not to be such a whiny baby.”

That little girl was something else. I feared for the man who fell for her one day.

And I felt equal parts worried and amused for her father, Jason.