"That's because they're grown with love," Lula said, patting Buck's arm. "And a whole lot of cussing when things go wrong."
Buck chuckled. "Speaking of things going wrong, we had a hell of a time getting the plants back to normal after that mumje incident. You remember that, Ruby?"
I felt my stomach drop. "Yeah. I remember."
How could I forget? The whole village had been drugged with mumje by that bastard Atkins Parlow, the old mayor. He'd set it off in the air during the harvest festival, trying to control everyone for God knew what reason. The whole thing was a nightmare.
"Teddy and I were affected," I said quietly to Cristox's worried gaze. "The last thing I remember was reading him a bedtime story. Then we woke up days later in the school gymnasium with everyone else."
"Scared the hell out of all of us," Buck said, shaking his head. "I was lucky—it didn't affect me. But Lula..." He swallowed hard, and I could see remnants of the fear he'd felt.
"Thankfully, Mei's friend Clara figured out an antidote," Lula added. "That woman's a genius. She and her husband Tarook visited just last month with their baby son. Sweetest little thing."
I glanced at Cristox and found him watching me, his expression carefully neutral, but I could see the anger simmering in his eyes. I'd been drugged with mumje during my captivity on Kwado, along with an aphrodisiac. That's why everything had spiraled so out of control.
Heat crept up my neck, and I glanced away quickly, my heart racing at the memory of that night. His hands on my skin, his breath against my neck, the way he'd made me feel things I'd never felt before.
"Lost about half the crops that season," Buck continued, oblivious to the tension crackling between Cristox and me. "Nobody tended to them for nearly a week. But we bounced back. Everything's normal now, thank God."
"More than normal," Lula said brightly. "Best harvest we've had in years."
The kids came running back then, Teddy chattering excitedly about an eight-legged frog he'd found and other things little boys feel are most important in the world. Cristox appeared enraptured by the tale, but I could still feel his gaze on me, heavy with memory and something else. Something that made my skin tingle with awareness.
After we'd admired the rest of the crops and Buck showed Cristox his irrigation system with the pride of a man showing off his prized possession, Lula insisted we stay for lunch. We sat around their big farmhouse table—fresh lamb chops, asparagus, and potato salad, while the kids were content to munch on homemade peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
Cristox and Fred fell into an easy conversation about the Historia. Fred wanted to be an Alliance guard when he grew older, and both he and Teddy hung on every word Cristox offered. I half-listened while picking at my food, my mind still on that look Cristox and I had shared. The heat in his eyes,the barely restrained desire that mirrored my own confusing feelings.
"So," Lula said quietly, leaning toward me to keep our conversation private. "How are you feeling about all this? About Cristox?"
I nearly choked on my lemonade. "What?"
"Oh, don't play coy with me, honey. I've got eyes." She smiled warmly, her expression knowing. "He's a good male. The way he is with Teddy... and the way he looks at you when you're not watching? Lord, have mercy."
"He is good with Teddy," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "He's... he's a good male. I know that."
"But?"
"But I don't know, Lula. I feel so confused about everything." I set down my glass and stared at it, afraid to meet her eyes. "It's complicated."
"The best things usually are," she said, patting my hand gently. "Just don't overthink it, darlin'. Sometimes you've got to trust your gut. And your heart."
I wished it were that simple. I wished I could just let myself feel without all the fear and doubt holding me back. Not that I didn’t trust Cristox. I did. I just couldn’t get over the nagging worry that the hand of fate would intervene to separate us again.
When we finally left, Buck loaded us up with a huge basket of produce—tomatoes, peppers, zucchini, squash, eggplant, and fresh herbs. "You cook something good with these and let me know how they work out," he said with a wink.
As we drove back toward town, Cristox and Teddy engaged in another rousing game of I Spy, I perused recipes in my mind. "Hey, how about I cook ratatouille with all these vegetables?"
Cristox glanced at me, eyebrows raised. "A... what?" From his expression, I suspected he'd only caught the ‘rat’ part of ratatouille.
"Ratatouille. It's a French vegetable dish. Really simple but delicious."
"I have no idea what that is," he admitted with a smile that made my stomach do a little flip, "but everything you cook is delicious."
"Yay!" Teddy cheered from the back seat. For Cristox, not the ratatouille.
My heart flipped a little at how happy he made my son. And maybe at how he made me feel happy too. A dangerous, terrifying kind of happy that I wasn't sure I was ready for.
The drive back to the village went quickly, and before we could finish what felt like our hundredth game of I Spy, Cristox pulled the truck into the driveway behind the bakery. We started unloading the car, and I was juggling the big basket of vegetables when I heard a feminine voice with a heavy southern accent.
