Page 102 of Pumpkin Spice Promises

“No, don't lie to me.” I stared at him in shock; no way we had spent so much time going through everything. He held his wrist toward me. 12:48. We had been in the equipment barn nearly three hours, and I hadn’t noticed.

That surprised me more than anything. I had expected being in here to feel unbearable.

Instead, somewhere between untangling Pops’s lights, arguing about generators, and discovering those ridiculous orange bandannas, the building had stopped feeling like a tomb.

“I should get back.” I said toeing the dirt with my boot.

“So should I.”

Beau began packing his tools and I closed the notebook.

Outside, sunlight had shifted across the pasture. Blueberry stood beneath the oak near the fence. The dairy barn hummed in the distance.

Beau loaded the last toolbox into his truck and rounded the bed until he was at the driver’s door, holding it open. “Need anything else before I go?”

The automatic answer sat on my tongue.

No.

I always said no.

I looked down at my notebook instead. Three pages of things to do.

Too much for me.

Too much for Earl.

Too much for the handful of ranch hands already stretched thin…

Maybe Meme was right.

Maybe saying yes didn’t mean admitting I couldn’t handle my life.

Maybe it meant choosing what mattered enough to let somebody else touch it.

I looked into Beau’s navy eyes, and ignored the way my stomach clenched with the realization that he had already been looking at me. “I need to know what the wagon repairs will cost.”

Beau nodded. “I’ll price everything.”

“And the tractor.”

“I didn’t expect any less.”

“And if you know anyone who does fencing without charging like they’re rebuilding the Great Wall of China.”

Beau nodded. “I know someone.”

“Who?” I raised a brow.

“Jax and I.”

“No,” I pouted, “you own an automotive shop.”

“We can build a fence.”

I opened my mouth. Closed it. He waited like he just knew I was trapped in accepting his help.

“Fine. But you’re giving me a price.”