“Can’t make a baby alone,” Pops said.
For a second, Kirk thought of the pretty woman from New York. It’d been a while since anyone had caught his attention. She appeared too uptight to want children was his instant assessment. But for a moment, he wondered what it would belike to kiss her, to see her eyes blaze with awareness and desire. Was she cool as her coloring or could she flare into passion with the right man?
Stupid thought, as if he could ever be the right man. Alice had been from Smoky Hollow and had moved away as soon as she was able. No city slicker would hang around beyond the summer. And he wasn’t interested in moving to New York.
“Have to make do with me,” he said.
His grandfather shrugged.
“Works for me.”
After eating a hearty breakfast, he helped his grandfather with chores. The man wasn’t slowing down much, but he was in his seventies. Maybe Kirk should suggest he get some help, hire a man to work alongside him.
Farming wasn’t for Kirk. He didn’t mind helping out from time to time, but he and Pops had settled a long time ago that Kirk wasn’t going to take on the family farm. He liked building and carving. Lately the building side had slowed, giving him more time for the carving.
“Might go over to Bryceville later this week, check in on Webb Francis,” Pops said later when Kirk was getting ready to leave to meet Angelica.
“He’d like that. Tell him I’m introducing his friend around.”
Pops looked at Kirk.
“Bring her by here one day.”
Kirk shook his head. “You come to town. You haven’t been in weeks. Do you good.”
“I’m busy.”
Kirk laughed. “Take it easy, Pops. I’ll come by in a day or two.”
He drove the short distance home and left the bike while he walked to his next-door neighbor’s house.
Knocking on the front door, he was surprised to see Angelica open it instantly, almost as if she’d been standing behind it waiting for him. A check of his watch showed it wasn’t quite ten, so he wasn’t late. She stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind her. He caught a whiff of some light floral scent, blending with that of grass and the roses running riot in Webb Francis’s yard.
Her hair was sleek and glowing in the sunlight. Tied back he couldn’t get a good estimate of if it was wavy or not. But that honey color was delicious. Her eyes were staring at him as he caught her gaze.
“What?”
“Are we going? Or are we just standing here for the rest of the morning.”
He started to agree with standing and staring at her. She was pretty as a spring morning.
And totally off limits if her attitude was anything to go by.
“We’re going. Got everything you need?”
She lifted her tote a few inches, then turned and stepped off the porch.
Walking beside her he registered the state of the lawn. He’d have to get over and cut the grass before they had to get a harvester in.
She said something. He looked at her.
“Say again?”
“What?”
“What you said, can you repeat it?”
“I asked how long it’s going to take to get to wherever we are going and why aren’t we driving?”
