Several hundred feet later, he decided the pumpkin weighed more than his initial assumption of twenty pounds. He didn’t consider himself a weakling, but his arms felt the burn by the time the tractor came back around. Once he climbed into the wagon, he gladly deposited the pumpkin on the plywood floor.
Mom elbowed him. “How much do they cost per pound?”
“More than I’d ever spend on one for myself.” He guffawed and shifted his eyes to Myla who sat on the floor, hugging the pumpkin. “But low enough I’ll gladly pay it to keep that smile on her face.”
“Coming here was a great idea.” Leaning against the red-painted metal frame, she sighed. “We all needed the diversion.”
“There’s still more to come.” He pulled the welcome sheet from his pocket. “I didn’t realize they had so many activities. If I’d have known, we could have come earlier.”
“We’ll have time. If not, that’s an excuse to come back when your dad’s home.” A soft smile settled on her mouth. “He loved this time of year and doing all the activities with you and Jenna. When Myla was born, he was so excited to have a kid around again.”
“I remember all the fun we had.” The memories set him down a path he tried not to wander.
His parents had done everything right, had given them a balanced childhood full of love and adventure without spoiling them. Jenna had everything going for her, so why had she fallen into a lifestyle of substance abuse? In his heart, he knew she was responsible for her own actions, but as her big brother, he couldn’t stop questioning if there was anything he could have done to protect her.
The tractor brought them to where they had first lined up, bringing their hayride to an end.
Myla still had an arm wrapped around her pumpkin and peered at Wes with a toothy grin. “Thank you, Nana and Uncle Wes, for bringing me.”
Wes grinned. His niece could be a spitfire some—most—times, but she was also full of sweetness. “You’re very welcome.”
He bent down and lifted the pumpkin, carefully stepped down from the wagon. Since his hands were full, Mom climbed down on her own and helped Myla out. He hadn’t forgotten what he said he’d do afterward, though it possessed no allure. Did anyone ever enjoy apologizing?
Shifting the pumpkin to a more balanced position, he made eye contact with his mom. “Are you taking My to the craft barn now? I’m going to have this behemoth weighed and pay for it, then find Paige and apologize.”
Mom winked. “Good luck.”
“Funny.” He groaned, then looked at Myla. “Behave for Nana.”
“I will. Promise.” She shifted her attention to her grandmother. “Can we get some popcorn? I saw it when we walked here.”
Watching his mom and niece walk toward the popcorn tent, he laughed and envisioned Myla with a bag of popcorn, sticky fingers from a caramel apple and cotton candy, and a souvenir mug of cider by the time he met up with them again.
He carried the pumpkin to the scale, suppressed his shock at the total price—a fair price per pound, but the pumpkin was even heavier than he’d guessed—and carried it to his car. He popped the trunk, then changed his mind and placed it in the backseat, knowing Myla would want it next to her.
Drawing a long breath, he mentally prepared himself for the conversation to come. He’d barely registered knocking into Paige the day it happened, but now that he’d been made aware, he felt horrible. Under different circumstances, he wouldn’t have treated her that way and would have ensured he hadn’t done any harm before moving on. Knowing himself, he probably would have exchanged contact information with her and offered for her boots to be professionally cleaned.
Likely, he wouldn’t convince her he wasn’t the jerk he’d come across as and that he wasn’t glued to his phone, but at least he would have done the right thing.Two weeks after the fact, but better late than never, right?
He strolled toward the entrance and flashed his wristband for readmittance. Once the employee waved him through, Wes made a right and began his search for Paige. Ten minutes later he spotted her leaving the restaurant. He sprinted to catch up with her before she got lost in the crowd.
Her face tensed when he stepped in front of her. “You again.”
“It’s me.” He grimaced. Not off to a good start. “Wes Caldwell, but I’m sure you caught that when my mother chided me for my behavior.”
She smirked and accepted his outstretched hand with hesitation. “Paige Hopkins.”
“Hopkins, as in Hopkins’ Farms?”
“Yes. It’s been in my family for generations.”
He didn’t miss the break of ice in her expression. He’d found her soft spot. “This is a fantastic place. My family is having a great time.”
“Good.” She shifted her gaze from side to side, as though seeking an escape. “Was there anything I can help you with? I don’t want to berude,but I have a lot of work to get done.”
So much for the soft spot. He had to hurry or lose his chance. “I wanted to apologize for what happened on the walking path. That’s not indicative of my usual behavior.”
“It’s fine.” Her bored expression indicated she had her opinion of him set in stone. “As I said, water under the bridge.”
“It’s not fine. It doesn’t excuse my behavior, but I’d like to explain.”
“You don’t have to. Your apology is already accepted.”
Frustration surged through him, spawned by pride. He should accept her forgiveness and let it go, but he wanted her to know there had been extenuating circumstances that day, that he was a decent guy at heart. He opened his mouth to speak again, but she’d already turned to leave.
He expelled a long sigh and stared after her for a second. What else could he do? Unfortunately for him in this case, it seemed his first impression would, indeed, be a lasting impression.
