Chapter 14

ChapterFourteen

‘You sure you don’t want me to stick around for the u-pick crowd today?’

Logan’s grandfather flashed him an exasperated look. ‘Positive.’

The older man pushed another crate of apples into the truck bed. A man of few words, Logan usually appreciated his grandfather’s quiet nature, but at the moment he was looking for any excuse not to go to the farmers’ market and possibly run into Jeanie. Not since he was certain he couldn’t trust himself around her.

Her words from Wednesday had tattooed themselves on his brain. Whoever Lucy was, I think she was a fool to leave. What did she mean? That she had no plans to leave? Maybe all of Logan’s worries were unfounded. And if that was true, then it meant he had no reason not to shoot for more with Jeanie.

Maybe they could keep it quiet for now. No need to alert the town gossip mill right away. But how would Jeanie feel about sneaking around? An image of him and Jeanie in a dark corner, her leg hitched up over his hip, his voice in her ear urging her to be quiet played through his mind with stark clarity.

‘You gonna daydream all morning, or you gonna help me load this truck?’ His grandfather’s aggrieved voice broke through his highly inappropriate Sunday-morning thoughts.

He cleared his throat. ‘Right. Sorry.’ He grabbed another crate, happy for the distraction. This was how he’d been since Wednesday, all in his head about this woman he barely knew. It was too familiar. In the days after he spent that first weekend with Lucy, he’d nearly broken his thumb with a hammer, ordered three times as much fertilizer as they needed, left the gate open, and temporarily lost both Bobs. Nana was beside herself with worry.

Logan had a habit of letting women unravel him.

Which was why he shouldn’t be going to the farmers’ market today. The PS Café always set up a tent with hot cider and pumpkin-spiced lattes right next to Annie’s bakery tent. And he was not ready to see Jeanie again. Not until he had a better grip on himself.

‘Might be a big crowd today. Getting to the end of the season.’ Logan leaned against the side of the truck, wiping the sweat from his brow. The sun was bright, and it was unseasonably warm today. There was a briny scent to the air, drifting in from the harbor, and it felt more like August than October. The weather was as unsettled as his insides.

His grandfather furrowed his bushy gray eyebrows, like two furry caterpillars under the brim of his old Red Sox cap. ‘What’s up with you?’

Logan sighed, running a hand down his face. ‘Nothing at all. Just don’t want to leave you here with a big crowd.’

‘Me and your grandmother can manage. And those kids you hired to run the pick-your-own shack will be here.’

He was right, of course. There was plenty of staff to help his grandparents out, but his grandmother usually did farmers’ market duty. Except for this weekend, when she decided she wanted to ‘soak in all the autumnal excitement at the farm while it lasted.’ Those were her exact words. Impossible to argue with.

His grandfather was still studying him, so he heaved in another crate to avoid the old man’s gaze.

‘You can’t avoid town forever.’

‘I’m not.’

Grandpa huffed. ‘I don’t like crowds much.’

That was an understatement. His grandpa avoided people nearly as much as he did.

‘But I don’t like the idea of you hiding out here just because of what happened.’

Logan made a noise that sounded eerily similar to his grandfather’s huff, and then realized the two of them were standing the same: arms crossed, leaning against the truck bed. Okay, so he was a lot like the old man.

‘Not hiding.’

‘You hid after your mom passed, too.’

‘I was five. And my mother died. I think hiding was warranted.’

‘To a point.’ Grandpa nodded. ‘But eventually, we needed to push you a little. Convince you to play with your friends again. Nearly broke my heart when we had to force you back into school.’

Logan swallowed hard.

‘Had to pull your little hands off my legs at the door. I hated it. Told your grandmother we should just keep you here with us.’

Grandpa took off his hat and ran a hand over his thinning hair. Logan didn’t know that he had tried to keep him home, but he did remember crying every day at school for a month. Mrs. Pine – Nancy, as she made him call her now – let him sit on her lap at story time and carry around a special stuffed elephant she kept on her desk for emotional emergencies. The day Annie declared they were best friends was probably the day he stopped crying.

But that was completely different than this.

This was him trying to sort out his feelings before making a big mistake. Like last time. In front of the whole damn town.

‘That’s not what I’m doing.’

His grandfather finally looked away, giving him a slight nod. ‘Alright. If you say so. Just don’t let that woman keep you from trying again.’

That woman. Grandpa refused to say Lucy’s name since she left, and insane as it was, Logan appreciated this show of solidarity.

‘I won’t,’ he assured him, even though he knew that was exactly what he was doing. He was just tired of his pain being town business, however well-meaning they were. Maybe he just wanted to hurt in private this time. ‘Better get going.’

His grandfather grunted in agreement, pushing away from the truck. ‘Give whatever you don’t sell to Annie. I want more of those pies.’

Logan smiled. Grandpa had a notoriously sweet tooth and he’d been trading apples for pies ever since Annie opened the bakery.

‘Will do.’ He hopped into the cab and gave his grandfather a wave before pulling out, more confused than ever about what to do about Jeanie.

Unfortunately, catching a glimpse of Jeanie as he pulled into the town square where the market was held, did nothing to help him figure it out. She was laughing with Annie as they struggled to get her tent up, the wind catching the fabric and forcing the women to wrestle it into submission. Her hair was loose today, and it flew around her face with the wind as she laughed.

A few dark clouds crossed the sun, casting the square in shadow. The sunny day was quickly taking a turn, but the weather didn’t usually stop people from shopping. If you waited for a perfect day in New England, you’d never do anything. The weather could swing from summer to fall in the course of a few hours, which seemed to be what it was doing right now.

Logan hopped down from his truck and strode over to where Jeanie was currently standing on her tent, a victorious look on her face.

‘There, at least it won’t blow away,’ she said with a grin, still not noticing Logan coming up behind her. She looked different today, the work clothes he usually saw her in, were replaced with jeans and a colorful cardigan. She looked comfortable.

He decided not to take it as a sign that she was settling into her place here. A woman was allowed to change her clothes without it being some sort of declaration of her intentions.

‘Might work better to keep the rain off, if it’s over your head.’

Jeanie turned around with a start. ‘Logan!’ Her cheeks flushed pink. ‘Hi.’

‘Hi.’

He held her gaze, the air crackling between them. He hadn’t imagined it. Every time he saw her, he felt it. This buzz under his skin. It was back, electric and real, like the storm brewing overhead.

‘Hi, I’m here, too!’ Annie cut in, waving a hand in his face. ‘Your best friend since the dawn of time. Hi, there.’ She grinned as he turned to look at her like she already knew exactly how he felt about Jeanie. Which also meant she’d know all about it when it fell apart. He prickled at the thought.

‘Hey, Annie. Need some help?’ He gestured toward the defeated tent.

Annie put her hands on her hips and stared down at the fabric beneath Jeanie’s feet. ‘I don’t know if it’s worth setting up.’ She glanced at the sky. ‘Do you think Pete will cancel?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe he should take a nap and see if anything comes up.’

Annie slapped his arm. ‘Don’t be mean.’

‘The man makes decisions based on dreams, Annie. Don’t pretend like it’s normal.’

His best friend shrugged. ‘It works out most of the time, Logan. I mean look at you and Jeanie and the ghost. Problem solved.’ Another smirk.

‘Yep. Problem solved.’ He moved around to the side of the tent and helped Jeanie straighten out the side. The whole thing was really just a metal frame with a blue vinyl roof. It was literally called an ‘easy-up’ which at the moment seemed misleading, but it was standard farmers’ market gear. Pete had spent some of the town budget one year to order these things in bulk.

In the current conditions, Logan was a little worried they might take flight. ‘You got something to weigh this down with?’ he asked, busying himself so he didn’t have to look at either woman, Annie’s knowing glances or Jeanie’s bright smile. More storm clouds built inside him, hot air mixing with the cold off the water. Unsettled.

‘We can use these.’ Jeanie had the little sandbags that came with the tent to attach to each corner. It should hold if things didn’t get too crazy out here. Annie’s tent was already up and seemed to be doing okay shielding her pies and muffins from the elements.

‘That should do.’ He took the bags and worked his way around the tent, securing each post along the way. Annie and Jeanie chatted away like old friends while he worked. The sound coasted over him, warm and peaceful, in direct contrast to the weather and his churning insides.

‘Let’s put this here, and here are the little signs to label the drinks,’ Jeanie was saying as she organized her table. Was it weird that his heart kicked with pride to see her using some of his gourds to decorate around the drink carafes? Yep, definitely weird.

‘It looks perfect! So cute. People are going to be swarming around you for drinks today,’ Annie said. ‘Oh, and this is George. He works at the bakery. His cakes are to die for.’

‘Nice to meet—’

The introduction was torn from Jeanie’s mouth by the next gust of wind. Everything happened all at once after that.

Jeanie’s easy-up easily lifted off the ground.

Annie shrieked, just as the clouds opened up and let loose a deluge of cold, fall rain.

Logan was soaked. Jeanie was soaked. Annie’s pies were in grave danger of being soaked.

George sprang into action. ‘We have to get these packed up!’ He started reloading pies into plastic containers while Annie frantically threw muffins into Tupperware.

Jeanie stood watching her tent blow down the street, her perfectly set-up farmers’ market table ruined by the downpour. She glanced at Logan, rain streaming down her face, plastering her hair to her head.

The look on her face wavered between laughter and tears, and he would be damned if tears won out.

‘Let’s go.’ He grabbed her hand and they raced toward her tent. The wind whipped around them as they splashed through the rapidly forming puddles. Where had this damn storm come from, and what good was a clairvoyant mayor if he couldn’t even predict the weather?

Logan was ready to drag Jeanie to the town hall next to give Pete a piece of his mind for endangering everyone with this farmers’ market, when Jeanie’s giggles cut through the sounds of the storm.

He glanced at her, and his breath caught. Her face was lit up, like the sun through the clouds. ‘What are we doing?’ she asked, her own breaths coming in gasps.

‘We’re going to catch that damn tent,’ he told her, making her laugh even harder.

‘Okay, but slow down!’ She grinned at him as he slowed his pace. ‘You’re fast when you have a tent to catch.’

‘It’s a safety hazard.’ He tried to keep his tone serious, but he felt his mouth tipping up with hers. Her fingers were still entwined with his and they were running through the rain, and his heart was already storing these moments away for later, to obsess over when he couldn’t sleep. Unsettled, but happy.

She fit here. She fit with him. His heart thumped the words over and over.

Her smile grew and she pushed the rain from her eyes. Those eyes, those dark-coffee eyes.

A crack of thunder overhead disrupted his thoughts of taking her face in his hands and pressing his mouth to hers.

‘Let’s go!’ she cried and tugged him into a run again, racing down Main Street. Luckily the street was closed to traffic for the market, so they only had a few other people fleeing from the weather to contend with.

‘There it is!’ Jeanie’s triumphant cry was quickly replaced with a dismayed gasp that cut through Logan’s chest. The tent was tangled in a tree. Its big metal legs bent like a giant spider’s; the blue tarp torn down the middle. ‘Shoot.’ Her face fell at the sight of the mess.

‘I’ll get it.’ Logan tugged at one of the metal legs, determined to get the stupid tent out of the branches, as though this tent was the one thing keeping Jeanie here. He battled that piece of camping equipment as though it was the only thing preventing her from staying, as though her failed attempt at the farmers’ market would send her crying back to Boston.

Would it?

‘Hey.’ She tugged at his arm. ‘I think it’s hopeless.’

‘I can get it,’ he growled, pulling harder until a branch cracked and the hole in the canvas tore open wider.

‘Hey.’ The hand on his arm grew more insistent until he turned to face her. She smiled. ‘Let’s go somewhere dry.’

He blinked. She was still here, smiling at him through the sheets of rain that continued to fall, her hand still on his arm, holding him tight. He swallowed hard.

‘Okay.’ He nodded. It was all he could manage. It was all he should say. Much better than the other words floating around in his head. Words about going with Jeanie wherever she wanted him to and all the things he wanted to do to her when they got there.

Instead, he just let her tug him toward the café.