“Not in June,” Anne said. She jumped from the truck.
Joe followed slowly, lifting his chin in greeting to the round older woman in jeans behind the plank counter. She nodded back.
“Hi there! You have cherries!” Anne exclaimed in delighted surprise. As though there weren’t a big cardboard sign with the wordcherriesspray-painted in black staring them in the face.
“Picked this morning,” the woman said.
“They’re gorgeous.” Anne wandered along the stall, her touch trailing over squashes and potatoes, her face alight.
Joe leaned back, watching.
“Ooh, jam. Did you make it yourself?” she asked.
The vendor smiled back at her, apparently as helpless as Joe to resist all that bright interest. “I did.”
“Then I need to get some. And a pound of cherries, please. They’re so big.”
“That’s Santinas for you. They’re a good cherry. Royal Anns won’t be ripe for another week.”
“I’m an Anne, too. With ane,” Anne said as the woman scooped fruit into a bag.
“Mary Brooks.”
“Of Brooks Farm,” Anne said. Easy. Friendly, in a way Joe could never pull off in a hundred years.
The woman nodded. “My daughter runs the place now.”
“You must be very proud.”
“Proud enough. She’s got ideas of her own, that girl. Wants to go all organic.”
“It can be hard, working together in a family business,” Anne said. “My mom is Maddie’s Candies on Mackinac.”
“Is she, now? Here.” Mary Brooks turned away to pull a plastic tub out of a cooler. Smeared something white on a cracker, topped it with jam, and handed the whole thing to Anne. “Try this.”
“Mm.” Anne licked her upper lip. “Wow.”
She turned and held the half-bitten cracker to Joe’s mouth. “You have to taste this.”
He froze. All that warmth and energy, so close…He looked at her—eyes, mouth, eyes again.
She flushed. “Unless you’re afraid of germs.”
He cleared his throat. “Cooties.”
“Ha ha.”
“That’s good cheese from our own goats,” Mary Brooks put in.
His gaze locked with Anne’s. He bent his head, careful not to bite her fingers. Swallowed. “Thanks. That’s…”Tart. Sweet. Delicious.“Good.”
The air thickened between them.
He took a deep breath and a step back while Anne andMary Brooks chatted about goats and organic farming and getting certified. Like he wasn’t there. Which was fine.
“You be sure to come back next time you’re driving through,” Mary said.
“I will. Thank you so much!” Anne promised. She and Joe got back in the truck. “What are you grinning at?”
