AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Adding some wooden crates and bushel baskets to the display, Maisie started to pile in the produce.
“Easy,” Drew cautioned. “It’s getting too high.”
“Haven’t you heard the phrase: Pile it high and kiss it goodbye?” Maisie laughed. “I think I know more about farmers markets than you do.”
“I’m sure that’s true. I still don’t see the point of ’em,” Drew muttered. “We’re cattle people. Any profit we might make on produce sales at a tiny operation like this is going to be eaten up by having to spend all day out in the sun, not getting any real work done.”
“It’s not about selling the vegetables, Drew. It’s about overhearing what people think of the new logo and counting how many times someone picks up the jars of jam Karen made. It’s called research. But maybe your energy would be better spent elsewhere.” Maisie flicked a hand to shoo her away. “I’m not feeling the support.”
“I can’t leave you alone.” From the way Drew said it, anyone might’ve thought they were setting up their tent in the middle of a war-torn battlefield instead of a quiet town square in the middle of one of the safest parts of rural America.
“You can leave me alone if you trust me,” Maisie replied, striking at the heart of the matter. No matter how good her plans had looked on paper—and even Maisie had to admit they’d looked impressive—Drew wasn’t ready to hand over something as important to her as the Lazy C’s public image without experiencing the need to hover like a mother hen.
“You don’t play fair. You know that?” Drew closed her eyes. “Always putting me in untenable situations. If I remain here, you’ll take it as proof I don’t trust you, but if I leave you, I’ll be plagued with guilt that I left you to handle the table all day.”
“I’m the one who wanted to be here.” Maisie motioned for Drew to come closer. “I don’t know if you noticed, but everyone is staring at our table, or me, more specifically. Just like at Bob’s funeral.”
“Is it making you uncomfortable? I can get Hannah to run the booth so I can take you home.”
“It’s all part of the plan,” Maisie assured her. “I’m the new kid on the block, and people are dying to get the skinny. Let them try, while buying everything on the table.”
“I’m glad to know you don’t just use your devious mind on me.”
“No. But I do save the best parts for you, darlin’.” Maisie batted her lashes, loving the look of raw need it elicited from Drew’s usually stoic face. “Now, scoot, and let me do my thing.”
“Just don’t do it too much, ya hear me?” Drew grumped.
“Why, Ms. Campbell, are you the jealous type?”
Drew did her bestfish out of waterimpression, spluttering, “N-not a chance.”
“You’re not fooling me.” Maisie laughed, tapping the side of her head. “I’m making a mental note of the day and time I learned this little nugget about you.”
Drew tossed her hands in the air but walked briskly away from the table. Maisie finished arranging the ranch’s offerings, which included produce, beef jerky, and preserves, plus T-shirts and mugs featuring a new logo and photos of Wilbur the bottle-fed calf. Based on what she’d seen similar operations doing, she expected these to be crowd pleasers with the possibility of solid online sales as well as an on-site store in the future. Today would help her test that theory and fine tune their branding.
Maisie’s confidence in herself had grown the more research she did. And the more she was exposed to Drew’s example. But the fact remained she needed it to work so Drew would continue to believe in her, and so it would pay off for the ranch.
And for herself, too, in the end.
Maisie’s breath caught at the finality of those words. It was the first time in quite a while she’d thought about what she was supposed to be working toward. Doing this project for the ranch and hoping for success had become its own reward. What did it even mean anymore for it to pay off in any other way? Maisie wasn’t sure she knew.
She didn’t want to think about it right now.
As customers started to trickle in, Maisie took up a position behind the table, offering a bright smile to anyone who passed. Not many others stood at their tables, opting to sit on folding chairs, some of the woman knitting, not making any eye contact. These were major faux pas according to every expert Maisie had read, and it occurred to her perhaps she could run a workshop for the local area to teach people how to make the most of in-person opportunities.
A woman in plaid shirt and brown boots Maisie would kill for, walked by, and Maisie stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Maisie.”
The woman glanced up, a hint of surprise on her face, but instead of walking past as she had the last several booths, she stopped and looked at Maisie’s table in earnest. “I’ll take some lettuce, kale, and a few tomatoes.”
“You got it.” Maisie grabbed a paper bag, fulfilling the order.
I told you so, Drew Campbell.
Another woman approached. “You’re the new girl.”
“I should put that on a shirt.” Maisie could practically see it written out in swirly letters across her chest.
The woman laughed. “You hardly need to. You stick out like a sore thumb.”
