“You guys go. I let Phillip know you want a private ride, and then when Jessica, Cam, and Bren get here, we can all go.”
When Taryn turns to look at the tractor, Elena winks at me. The movement is flawless and smooth. I have no idea where she learned that. She’s been doing it a lot recently.
I wink back, stuffing my hands in my pockets as Taryn rotates back toward us and smiles. My hands tremble in my pockets, and when she stares at me for a second, I wonder if she can sense my nerves controlling my body.
Chill out. Calm down. She doesn’t know anything.
She holds her hand out, and Elena grasps it. “All right. We’ll see you back here in a little while?” Taryn asks me.
“I’ll see you in a little while,” I reassure her.
Walking hand in hand to the festival entrance, I turn and hustle back to the shop at the side of the venue, where my truck is parked. I let Phillip know the girls are ready for the ride, and I triple-check that he knows where they’re going, which is different from the festival map showing the hayride route.
This is a particular route I had explicitly picked forher,and I have about fifteen minutes before Phillip arrives with them. Luckily, everything is set up and ready to go, and the twins should be there now with Jessica.
Everything is falling into place.
Hopping into my truck, I open the glovebox, taking out what I need. Admiring the box, my thumb swipes over the velvet as my future flashes before my eyes. And she is everything I want.
EPILOGUE | TARYN
The tractor engine roars in front of us as the trailer takes us down the dirt road. Cars pass us on their way to the venue, kids’ hands waving out the windows as we pass them.
This is a big hayride for only two people, but I shouldn’t be complaining. It’s with one of my favorite people.
Elena picks up a piece of straw, pulling the strand between her index finger and thumb. She seems a little off today, but I can’t put my finger on it. I wanted to take coffee to Colten this morning since I know he has been working like crazy to get this festival set up, but three seconds after I mentioned it, she ripped her damn tooth out. The thing was bleeding like crazy, and Tristan nearly fainted at the sight of her blood soaking into the white napkin.
This girl always surprises me, I swear.
I peer around us, noticing the direction we are going. Reaching into the back pocket of my jeans, I remove the folded festival pamphlet. Unfolding the paper and flipping to the section with the hayride, I study the route.
“We aren’t going the right way.”
Elena sits across from me, her head flying up from the straw she’s fiddling with across from me. “Yeah, we are.”
“No, we are supposed to be headed toward section ten in the orchard,” I inform her, twisting my lips to the side.
She flattens her lips. “Well, we own it. We get special treatment.”
I guess.“And technically, you own it. I don’t,” I joke.
She mumbles something to herself, grinning as she tosses the strand of hay into the wind, watching as it flutters away and lands on the road.
The sun has disappeared, and the world around us is blanketed in reds and oranges, matching the festival and autumn mood. Chills break out across my arms, so I tug my black sweater sleeves over my hands to keep them warm.
“Hold on,” Phillip calls over the engine.
His demand catches me off guard. The tractor turns, and Phillip slows the speed, taking us down the ditch and between two rows of apple trees on either side. We drive down the rows for a few minutes, and the peaceful ride calms my thumping heart. I lean back against the bale behind me, ignoring the fact that hay is going to get caught in my woven sweater.
I’m too happy and content to care.
The trees pass, the world gets darker, but the smile that spreads across Elena’s face is too cheerful to ignore. She’s practically vibrating in her seat, but when I start to eye her suspiciously, something glowing above catches my eye.
And the thought that this is just a normal hayride that every other guest has gone on today instantly diminishes.
Tilting my head upward, string lights zigzag above us in the trees as the tractor and trailer pass under them. It’s like a tunnel of lights carrying us deeper into the Lindenvale Hill Orchard. My pulse quickens, the lights sitting amongst the sunset sky like one of those aesthetic photos you stare at because you wonder if it’sreal. And my pounding pulse attempting to burst out of my skin tells me it’s real.
The tractor pulls to a stop, and I turn my head toward Phillip, wondering what’s going on.
