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“But what do I know?” Aunt May continues. “I barely see you either because you’re with Sadie so much.”

“Yes, Ma,” James says before turning innocent eyes on me. “Arch, you have any news on the dating front?”

I know exactly what he’s doing—shifting the attention off of him. Just as I know exactly why my mind instantly envisions Juliet.

“Nope. I’m still as single as my horses.”

“Which is exactly why you fit in so well with them,” James jokes.

I laugh, but Aunt May scowls. “James,” she scolds before softening her expression at me. “Is there anyone you’d like to date? There are so many nice girls in Autumn Ridge.”

True enough. But the only one I want to get to know better won’t text me back. “I’ll get around to dating someday. I’m just busy.”

“Like mother, like son,” Aunt May muses.

I shovel a forkful of potatoes in my mouth so I don’t have to say anything else, then I notice James doing the same.

We share full, knowing smiles.

It’s good to be back together—even if I want to be with someone else. Someone with hair finer than my buckskin dun and eyes more indigo than my blue roan gelding.

I may be as single as my horses...but Juliet makes me not want to be.

Juliet

Archer doesn’t try to message me again, which is a good thing. I have no time to even text people I want to. I’m knee deep in prepping for the Fall Festival—something I never thought I’d do, but something I’m actually enjoying.

In three days, I’ve checked off forty things from Rosie’s list, including confirming live animal approval permits, ensuring the check-in process is fluid, and creating parking graphics. Today, I’m still at it, though instead of running around Main Street, ensuring booth spaces are properly assigned and line-management is decided on, I get to spend this bright, sunny Saturday at Bugelbach’s Pumpkin Farm and Main Street.

I arrive at the patch early, driving Dad’s SUV down the dirt road that borders the Walkers’ property. I’ll be meeting with Reese Berkeley instead of Farmer Joe, as he’s given Reese full managerial responsibilities this year.

The patch isn’t officially open yet, but I pull up to find Reese standing by three massive piles of white, orange, oblong, and warty pumpkins.

I knew a thousand would be a lot, but seeing them altogether, I genuinely don’t know how I’m going to do this. Rosie was supposed to help me, but she told me only this morning that her Snow White room needed a quick paint job before the festival. Dad was also supposed to lend a hand, but his day just got fully booked with his mayoral duties.

“You take the car. I’ll hitch a ride with Lisa if I need to get anywhere,” he’d said.

Sure you will, Dad. He’ll probably meet up with Sharon, too.

Anyway, it looks like I’ll be carting the pumpkins on my own. This should be...interesting.

Reese waves at me, her dimples deep. “Hey, Juliet!” she greets as I step out of Dad’s SUV.

“Hi, Reese.” I eye the piles behind her. “That’s a lot of pumpkins.”

“Yeah.” Reese props her hands on her hips, her orange sweater hugging her warmly as strands of hair fall out of her braid around her temples. “Farmer Joe got them all picked and cut a few days ago. We all feel bad we can’t help load them, but with the patch opening later today...”

I shake my head with a carefree shrug, though I’m inwardly freaking out. I can probably fit fifty pumpkins in the SUV at a time. That’s twenty trips to Main Street, which means I’ll be transporting pumpkins...until next year.

“I can help load for a few minutes,” Reese offers, clearly reading my silence as concern.

But I wave a passive hand. “You focus on seeing to the opening. I’ll manage just fine.”

Even if the sight of these massive pumpkins is already making my muscles ache.

Reese takes two steps away, then stops at the sound of a truck pulling up behind us. “People are trying to come in already? Can’t they read?”

She talks to herself as she walks away, a tired expression on her features as she heads to the car, no doubt intending to instruct the early birds on how to tell time.