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She shrugged. “Last time I checked, there was a thing called freedom of speech.”
He bristled, and Gretta was quick to inject herself. “Settle down now, Nash, for Pete’s sake. Why you always gettin’ hotheaded?”
“Me?” he nearly yelled. “She’s the one trying to goad me. I’m just trying to enjoy this delicious meal you worked so hard on.”
Gretta pointed an arthritic finger at him. “Don’t you go tryin’ to charm me with your nice words. They’re workin’, but don’t you do it.”
He smiled and winked at her, laying that charm on thicker than molasses. “Just speakin’ the truth, Ms. Gretta. Why do you think you have a full table every mornin’?”
“Because you’re all a bunch of freeloaders who can’t cook worth a damn,” she said with a laugh, and everyone, including Vivian, joined in. Just like that, the tension around the table was broken, and everyone got to chattering good-naturedly about last night’s festival and the day ahead. Vivian actively avoided eye contact with Nash, and he did the same.
Until Gretta decided to shove them together.
“Vivian, I need a few things from the grocery today, but I have a million things to do here that I can’t fall behind on. Would you mind handling the shopping list for me today?”
“Of course,” Vivian was quick to agree. She needed to pay her back for her hospitality somehow, and running errands was easy.
Gretta beamed, then her attention fell on Nash who was finishing his last cup of coffee. “Nash, you can drive our girl into town and make sure she finds everything okay since you’re headin’ that way anyway.”
Looking like a deer caught in the headlights, he said, “What? But…wait… She’s got a car. She won’t have any trouble finding anything on her own. Right?” he asked, looking to Vivian for confirmation.
Siri had already proven useless here, but she wouldn’t let that be a deterrent. “Right. I can handle it on my own. No problem.”
“Nonsense. It’ll go faster if you two go together. And Nash, you can help her carry the heavy stuff. I assume that’s what all those muscles are for?” she asked with a smirk.
He flushed, the first time Vivian had seen the man look truly uncomfortable. She’d find it funny if the situation didn’t directly impact her.
Before either of them could argue further, Gretta was forcibly pushing them out of the kitchen. “Go on now, you two. The day’s a-wastin'. And make sure to get everything on that list or I’ll be sending ya out later to get it.”
Before Vivian knew it, she was standing on the front porch and listening to the sound of the door banging shut behind her. And if she wasn’t mistaken, she thought she even heard the lock click into place.
SEVEN
“What just happened?” Vivian asked Nash, following him as he rushed down the steps with purpose toward a forest green Ford pickup truck that was at once old and new in appearance.
“The old woman has lost her mind. No sense arguin’. Go on. Get in,” he barked. Nash threw himself behind the wheel, all huffy and puffy. Because he was forced to spend time with her? Well, she didn’t like it any more than him.
Taking her time, Vivian made her way to the passenger side and climbed in, noting the pristine interior. Everything was old, but it was mint. “What year is this?”
“Forty-eight,” he said, distracted as he slammed the truck into reverse and turned them toward the road.
She inspected the interior, noting the expected lack of CD changer, aux input…she doubted it had Bluetooth capability either. “Yours?”
He shot her a cutting look. “What, you think I stole it?”
Remaining calm, she said, “I didn’t say that, but…” The thought hadn’t occurred to her, but she knew it would piss him off to suggest it, so of course, she had.
“It’s mine. Gretta passed it down to me after Pete passed on.”
Surprise colored her expression. “That was nice of her.”
“Yes, but I spent a lot of time on the farm growing up. Pete was the father I never had, and we restored it together.”
So by all rights, it was his all along. Running her hand over the polished silver window crank, she imagined what that must have been like as a young boy. “There must be a lot of memories in here.”
“You have no idea.”
Had she imagined it, or had his tone softened a little? Glancing over, Vivian studied Nash’s profile. He was focused, stiff. The only sign of movement was the jumping of the muscle in his jaw. He was upset. At her…or life?
