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I touch her waist. "Stay for a minute."

She does. No question. She simply steps into me. I wrap my arms around her. For a while, neither of us says anything. Her head fits beneath my chin. My hand rests against the middle of her back. There's something about holding her like this that feels different from kissing her. Quieter. More intimate. I've gotten used to it. I don't want to stop.

Maddy finally pulls back enough to look at me. "I should go."

"I know."

Neither of us moves. Her smile softens. I kiss her once. Then again. "Tomorrow," she says.

"Tomorrow."

I open her car door. She gets in and looks up at me. "Get some sleep, Martinez."

"I'll try."

I close the door. She starts the engine, then lowers the window. "Javier?"

"Yeah?"

Her eyes hold mine. "I'm really glad I'm here."

The words hit me harder than they should. I rest one hand on the top of her car. "So am I, Maddy."

She smiles. Then she pulls away. I stand there until her taillights disappear beyond the farm sign.

For a moment, I stay where I am. Tomorrow, Oakridge will fill this place. Tonight, it's quiet. Ready.

And for the first time in a long time, so am I.

Chapter Twenty-One

Javier

By ten-thirty, we've run out of cider cups. Not cider. Cups. Apparently three hundred people can drink a lot more than whoever ordered supplies anticipated. Jack blames me. I blame Jack. Emma finds another case in the storage room and informs us we're both idiots. Problem solved.

The Harvest Festival is in full swing. Kids race between hay bales with painted pumpkins tucked under their arms. Music carries from the small stage near the barn. The food tents have lines, but they're moving, thanks mostly to Maddy rearranging everything before we opened. Goliath has become a celebrity. Noah is standing beside him explaining to anyone who will listen that the pumpkin weighs one hundred and forty-three pounds. I've heard the speech eleven times. He gets better with every telling.

Maddy is working the third food station with Helen. She catches me looking. Her smile comes first, then mine. She lifts one eyebrow. I point toward the cup in my hand. She mouths, Working. I am working. Mostly.

A little girl runs past me wearing a paper crown covered in orange leaves. Atlas watches her go from beneath the produce table. He's been getting attention all morning and has accepted his role as festival royalty with remarkable humility. I scratch behind his ear. "Don't let it go to your head." His tail hits the ground. Too late.

"Martinez." I turn. Jack is coming toward me from the barn. "We've got another group for the farm tour."

"What time?"

"Eleven."

"I'll take it." He nods, already looking toward something else. That's how the morning goes. One thing into another. Exactly the way I like it.

By noon, the parking field is nearly full. The food lines stretch past the tents, but they're moving. The dog demonstration drew twice the crowd Emma expected, and somebody bought Jack's scarecrow for twenty dollars after mistakenly assuming it was part of the silent auction. Emma refused to give the money back.

I find Maddy behind the food station refilling a tray. "How's it going?"

"We haven't caused a riot."

"High standards."

"We aim for excellence." I glance at the line.