Chapter Six
After her morning exercises with Cher Bear, Zoey dropped her beloved horse off at home, leaving him with several kisses on his brown muzzle. She thought of Hunter’s mare, Penny, and grinned. That horse was something else. So was Hunter.
She startled at the thought. Where had that come from? She shook her head. The Westbrooks were what her dad called “good people.” Down to earth. Connected to animals and the land. Willing to let a neighbor in their arena any time, night or day. They’d probably feed her if she showed up around dinnertime without flapping so much as a dish towel her direction.
The whole family was something else, really. She’d met several of them over the last few days—including the famous bronc rider, Lucky Preston. Now that was a treat. She’d seen Lucky ride several times on the circuit, and he was impressive. Always in control, it was like the only two beings on the planet were him and the horse he tried to conquer. Then he’d gotten on one horse that beat him and beat him bad. It was good to see that the cowboy had come out on top—even finding love in Hunter’s sister, Swayzie.
Zoey gathered her things and headed to the fair, thoughts of building an arena at Brandon and Allie’s rolling around in her head like a pumpkin in the bed of a pickup truck cruising down a dirt road. The field out back of the manor would be ideal, but it needed clearing in a major way. There was a whole layer of vegetation, not to mention fallen leaves, that needed to be scraped off. She thought of Hunter again, and she briefly wondered what it would take to get him to let her borrow that tractor.
The festival started tomorrow, and from what Allie told her, the fairgrounds would be a hive of activity today as the vendors finished getting their booths set up. Zoey had only been into town once for a quick tour of the honey shop. But it wasn’t hard to find her way. The big red barn stood as a beacon at the corner of Maple and Main.
Zoey turned off the highway onto Maple Street. If Harvest Ranch downtown wasn’t the cutest little town she’d ever seen—with its Swedish architecture, brownstones, and that big red barn that doubled as a cultural hall; the bright and colorful mums planted in boxes up and down Main and Maple; and all its fall decorations—she didn’t know what was. She could finally understand why Brandon picked this place, small though the town may be.
To the right, behind a row of shops and the town's stone chapel, a Ferris wheel rose high in the sky. “Whoa.” She hadn’t expected that. She thought maybe there’d be some little nothing rides, but this was legit.
She took the first spot she saw on Maple, then headed toward Main on foot.
The whole town had this buzz vibe going—as if everyone were hyped up on gourmet lattes from Choco-Latte. Cars and trucks lined Main Street all the way to the festival entrance. Some, loaded to the fenders, drove right on through the open gates and into the booth area to unload.
Smiles were everywhere, but so were worried creases in foreheads and hurried steps. There was a midnight deadline to have each booth one hundred percent ready for opening tomorrow morning. What happened if you didn’t hit the deadline? You turned into a pumpkin, of course. Zoey grinned at her thoughts. The fall decorations—everywhere—must be getting to her.
Even though she felt the whole thing was over the top, she was starting to get into the mood to do somefestivallingherself. How the people managed to keep this enthusiasm up for the whole month of October, year after year, was inspirational.
A Post-it Note tacked to her door that morning, courtesy of her brother, gave directions to Allie’s booth. Over the footpath leading into the grounds, white Christmas lights had been draped down from the side of a large red barn on one side to several poles on the other, and Zoey bet it looked amazing at night.
To the left, a stage had been set up at the back of the red barn, and in front of that was a space for an audience, which was decorated with hay bales, scarecrows, and pumpkins. Continuing on, several food vendors were setting up, and behind them were all sorts of rides. To the right, more vendors were setting up, rows and rows of them.
People scurried around all over, carting things in, setting up displays, cleaning, and so on. When they’d said people took this fall festival seriously, Zoey had had no idea. When she’d told Hunter this town was full of peoplefestivalling, she’d been joking based on what little she’d learned from her brother and Allie, but that’s exactly what was happening here:festivalling.
She followed the map past the vendors and turned up the second row, finding the twins and Brandon halfway down. They carried boxes into their booth from the back of it. The booth to their left was setting up furniture, and the booth on the other side of that prepared leather goods. An older man in overalls and a thick leather apron sat on a stool arranging tools, while a younger woman hung belt blanks on display hooks. The man looked familiar … She’d have to look up his brand later.
Brandon waved at her. Allie motioned for her to follow. Zoey entered the booth in a small path between the side of the tent and the counter that’d been set up across the front, then headed out a back flap. There was a row for vehicles behind the tents that butted up to the backs of another row of booths. Brandon’s truck was parked there, his tailgate down. He handed a box to Jo, then one to Allie, then grabbed one for himself. Zoey frowned. So Jo and Allie were allowed to carry boxes? Well, then, she would too.
The trio headed back in, but Zoey went to the truck and picked up a box.
“You don’t have to do that,” Brandon said, stepping back through the curtain and grabbing the other end of the box she held.
“Brandon,” she said, pulling the box back. “I can carry a box.”
He tipped his cowboy hat down. “But you don’t have to.”
“Well, I want to. I want to help.”
“I got this,” he assured her, tugging the box back. “Really, don’t worry about it.”
She tugged it from him again. “No, I got this.”
“Zoey.” He leveled a gaze at her.
“Brandon, knock it off.” She stomped her foot. “I cleaned stalls out this morning at the Westbrook’s arena. I think I can manage a box or two.”
Brandon’s eyes went wide. “You cleaned stalls?”
“Yes.” She lifted her chin, irritated that he seemed so surprised by this. “And Hunter Westbrook even said I did a good job.”
“Hunter gave you a compliment?” Jo asked, grinning. “You must have done good. Getting a compliment out of Hunter is like trying to get honey out of your hair without soap and water.”
Zoey stood a little taller, suddenly feeling even prouder of herself. So Hunter was stingy with compliments? Interesting. She thought of his lopsided smirk, of the way he teased her this morning, and shivered delightedly. Every time she’d seen Hunter since arriving had ended in him or her or both of them, turning away… walking away… storming away… But not today. She held back a smile.
