Page 37 of Trick or Tease

I grabbed a notepad from Granny’s junk drawer and started jotting down ideas as they came to me. “We could attach a flatbed trailer to the tractor and haul people up the dirt road to the old house. String up some spooky lights along the way, maybe add some creepy scenery for the ride up. Scarecrows with glowing eyes, that kind of thing.” My excitement grew as the vision took shape in my mind. “This could really tie the whole event together. The haunted hayride would be the perfect centerpiece.”

Granny clapped her hands together. “Now you’re talking! I can already picture it. Folks bundled up in blankets, sipping hot cider while they take in the sights. Maybe we could even have someone jump out from behind a tree with a chainsaw. Nothing too scary, just enough to give people a little thrill.”

I grinned at her enthusiasm. “Exactly! And we could⁠—”

“It’s not my thing,” Garrett interrupted. The apron still hung ridiculously around his waist, but his expression was all business now. “If you want to do a haunted hayride, that’s up to Billy. I’m just here to help with…” He gestured vaguely at the candy-making supplies.

I tried not to let my disappointment show. For a moment there, I’d thought he was actually getting into the spirit of things. But of course Garrett Hogan wouldn’t be caught dead planning something as frivolous as a haunted hayride. Too small town. Too beneath him.

“Right,” I said, forcing a smile. “Well, I’ll run it by Billy later. I’m sure he’ll love the idea.” I turned back to Granny, determined to keep the momentum going. “In the meantime, we should probably focus on not burning this batch of candy.”

Despite his initial clumsiness, Garrett eventually got the hang of candy-making. More like he stopped making catastrophic messes. He was no Willy Wonka. By the time we poured the last of the molten green syrup into the molds, I was beat and so ready for a cold beer and some time on the porch looking up at the stars.

“I think you should come with me tomorrow,” I said.

“Where?” he asked.

“The farmer’s market. Our booth. We’re going to sell the candy and Granny’s apple jelly. And her infamous apple butter.”

I thought he was going to tell me to get lost.

“Okay.”

I grinned. “Awesome. I’ll pick you up at eight. We have to be early to set things up.”

14

GARRETT

Ipulled on the flannel I borrowed from Billy, already regretting my decision to do this damn farmer’s market. It was a little chilly but I knew it would be warm by the afternoon.

I heard a horn honking and shook my head. That had to be Sabrina.

I went downstairs and climbed into the truck.

“Good morning!” she chirped.

I grunted in response.

“Uh-oh, someone needs coffee. Lucky for you, I brought a thermos.”

“How about a coffee shop?” I said.

She waved her hand. “There’s coffee at the market.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Sabrina bounced around our little booth like an over-caffeinated squirrel. She arranged and rearranged jars of Granny Mae’s apple butter and the candy we’d made yesterday. She’d insisted I wear “normal people clothes” today. I had a pair of old boots in the closet of my bedroom that hadn’t been touched in years. It had been a time capsule, but it was also nice that my parents left all my stuff in there.

“Stop fidgeting,” Sabrina said without looking up from stacking the candy boxes. “You look like you’re about to bolt.”

“I’m not fidgeting.” I shoved my hands in my pockets to prove it.

She finally glanced up. “Uh huh. You’re twitchy as a whore in church. Maybe caffeine was a bad idea.”

I scowled at the folks already milling about the town square, setting up their own booths. The smell of fresh bread and apples hung in the air, mixing with the earthy scent of pumpkins and hay bales someone had arranged as decorations. It was all so aggressively rustic.

My stomach twisted as I recognized faces from high school, old neighbors, people who’d watched me grow up. They would all have questions. They would all have opinions about the life I’d built away from here.