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“Yeah. I can pick you up here and we’ll go together.”

She glanced toward the open doorway where Penny was still drawing, then at her parents. Neither Janice nor Alan said a word, and Wes liked them both a little more for that.

He kept quiet too. His bear wanted him to tell her how much he hoped she would say yes, but Kate knew her daughter and her own mind far better than he did. So Wes waited and hoped.

Kate looked back at him. “All right. I’d like to go with you.”

His bear’s happiness filled him. “Great.”

“What time?” she asked.

“The dance starts at seven-thirty. I can pick you up at seven, if that’s okay with you.”

“It is.”

“Seven, then.”

From beside the packing shed, Alan turned the hose back on. “Well. Now that we’ve organized Kate’s social life, can we go back to talking about my apples?”

“Dad.”

“I’m only asking because I seem to be supplying a festival now.”

Wes laughed and went over to join him, leaving Kate and Janice on the porch while they talked through what fruit might be available and how little the Harlands actually needed to commit at this stage. He kept it simple. There was no point making Alan decide now when they would know much more once picking began.

A few minutes later, Wes slipped his phone back into his pocket. When he looked toward the porch again, Kate had reopened her laptop, but she was not working. She was looking at him.

“I’ll see you at seven,” he said.

Kate rested one hand on the edge of the laptop. “I’ll be ready.”

He left before he could find an excuse to stay longer.

His bear waited until they were halfway across the Harlands’ orchard before speaking. She said yes.

Wes smiled at the wonder in the words. She did.

He crossed back into Russet Hill with the afternoon’s work still waiting for him. When had he last gone dancing with anyone? Long enough ago that he couldn’t immediately remember. Wes looked down at the dirt worked into his knuckles. He would have to leave himself time to scrub up. He should have been thinking about the next block.

Instead, he was thinking about seven o’clock.

CHAPTER 7

Kate

By six thirty, Penny was in pajamas covered in tiny foxes and had arranged two books in a careful stack beside Janice on the couch. Kate stood in the doorway with one earring in and the other still in her hand, trying not to check the time again.

Janice looked up at her. “Honey, if there’s anything you think we need to know about bedtime, tell me. But you don’t have to worry that we’re going to forget something important.”

“Because I’m here to remind you,” Penny told her grandma.

“See?” Janice shrugged. “And if Penny needs you, we’ll call.”

“I know you will.” Kate put in the second earring and glanced at Penny. “It isn’t that I don’t trust you. It just feels strange leaving her. I’m used to being the one who knows whether she really needs water or whether she’s trying to get another ten minutes out of bedtime.”

“Strange doesn’t have to mean wrong. It’s one night.” Janice got up and squeezed her hand. “We’ll be fine. Go enjoy yourself. Trust me.”

“I do. And thank you.”