Hart's Hollow Farm (New Americana 4)

Lee nodded. “I no longer have a use for them, so I’ll sell them to you at half price. You can use my road sign, too, if you want. You’ll just need to paint over our logo and add your own.”

“Lee, don’t,” Ruth Ann said. “What if you decide to try again next season?”

He waved away her concern. “I barely made it work the last time I tried it. I was stretched too thin between the corn and the cotton. Couldn’t be in two places at once. And you remember how much you complained about all the extra traffic up and down the driveway when I opened the fruit stand?” He shook his head. “The return wasn’t worth the investment.”

“For you alone, maybe.” Emmy pointed a finger at his chest, then waved it toward Kristen. “But this time around, it won’t be a one-man operation. I’ll have help, and it’ll be a guaranteed success. Right, Kristen?”

All six pairs of eyes shifted to her and bored into her face. Oh, man. What had she gotten herself into? A little white lie was one thing, but these were piling up by the dozen.

Nodding, she forced her dry tongue to move. “We’ll do our best.”

“This is ridiculous,” Ruth Ann said. “Out of the question.”

“If you have a mind to take a shift at our stand once in a while,” Emmy put in over Ruth Ann, “I’ll cut you a percentage of the profit.”

Lee propped his chin in his hand and mulled it over for a moment. “And where do the tractor and the land come into play?”

“The land?” Ruth Ann’s mouth dropped open.

“That’s right,” Emmy said, “the land. Just a piece. That stretch you’ve already strip-tilled.” She gestured toward Ruth Ann’s gaping mouth. “And I wouldn’t keep that up if I were you. You’ll catch a fly.” She faced Lee again as Ruth Ann sputtered. “All I’m asking is to rent the tractor and the twenty acres I sold to you back in the day. I got extra corn I want Kristen to plant so I can up our profit and have a more persuasive argument in this bypass nonsense. And I’ll pay you extra for the work you already put into it.”

“No.” Ruth Ann shook her head. “You didn’t sell that land. Joe did. And he sold it to me.”

“I didn’t come here to argue, Ruth Ann. I’ve got as much pride as anyone else, but the fact is, I’m at my last gasp here. Do you want a bunch of asphalt-grinding semis tearing past your bedroom window at night? ’Cuz that’s what’ll happen if they get ahold of my land.” Emmy sighed. “I’m not asking for something that was never mine. Joe sold that lot to Daryl a year before he passed to keep us afloat when we were struggling. He would’ve never done it otherwise. Daryl was a good man. He assured us he’d give us the chance to earn it back.”

“No,” Ruth Ann repeated. “Absolutely not. I forbid it.”

“You forbid? Would you have forbidden Joe if he’d asked?”

Kristen winced and glanced at the children. Sadie grabbed another slice of pound cake and started chewing, while Dylan looked up from his phone, his head swiveling toward Emmy, then Ruth Ann, and back.

Mitch held up a hand. “Emmy, you’ve gotten your ans—”

“I would never have forbidden Joe anything.” Ruth Ann’s face flushed a fiery red. “I knew Joe better than anyone—including you.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake. Can we please get past this?” Emmy’s right eye twitched faster. “We were friends once. Long before I married Joe. And we’re both widows now, so what’s to stop us from fixing this?”

“You broke my heart, Emmy.” Voice shaking, Ruth Ann slowly stood. “Joe was my first love. If you hadn’t started chasing him, I would’ve been his wife.”

“Now, Mama.” Lee scooted to the edge of his chair. “Let’s not go dragging all this u—”

“I know you loved Joe.” Mouth tight, Emmy nodded. “But the fact was, he didn’t love you back—not in that way at least—and he made that plain to you from the start. He couldn’t control who he loved any more than I could.”

Mitch cleared his throat. “That’s enough, Emmy.”

“How would you know?” Ruth Ann huffed. “You didn’t give him a chance to choose.”

“Oh, that ain’t true.” Emmy shoved to her feet but stumbled and grabbed the back of her chair, favoring her left leg.

Kristen rose and cupped her elbow. “Maybe we should come back another time.”

“If anything,” Emmy said, speaking over her, “it was the other way around, Ruth Ann. We were all good frien

ds. It’s just one day . . .” She spread her hands. “One day, things changed. That’s all.” A haunted look entered her eyes. “Sometimes things just change.”

“They never changed for me. I always loved Joe—right from the first.”

“And what about Daryl, huh?” Emmy asked. “Oughtn’t you have loved your own husband more than mine?”