Hart's Hollow Farm (New Americana 4)

Sitting back on her heels, Kristen studied his sculpted features and brawny frame, then looked beyond him at the renovated porch. Freshly painted columns, Gothic trim, and railings gleamed in the sunlight, each piece Mitch had lovingly crafted projecting lazy summer shadows on the new wooden floor beneath their feet. Emmy and Sadie hummed a happy tune at the other end of the porch as they stretched up on their tiptoes and washed the wide windows until they glistened. Dylan swept remnants of wood and dust off the wraparound floor and into the dustpan Zach held. They made a game of it, Dylan thrusting the trash forward with hockey-like moves and Zach zigzagging from one side to the other to capture it.

The boys’ laughter and Emmy’s and Sadie’s slightly off-key tune merged and the scent of paint and clay in the clean air mingled with each other. Beyond them, in the distance, the crops were thriving. The corn’s green stalks and leaves reached up toward the clear sky, and the red earth, gently furrowed around each stalk, cradled the two-foot-tall plants.

“Heaven,” Kristen said, meeting Mitch’s eyes and tilting her lips up in invitation as he dipped his head toward her. “Pure heaven.”

Every hardworking, laughter-filled, desire-inducing day with Mitch over the past couple of weeks at Hart’s Hollow had been wonderful. Better than she’d imagined, even.

So much so, it felt like—

“Oh, gag a maggot.”

Mitch’s head stopped its descent to hers. His lips twitched as he cut his eyes in Dylan’s direction.

“Y’all aren’t over there kissing, are you?” Dylan walked toward them, broom thumping against the porch floor along the way, and stared down at them. A disgusted expression crossed his face, but there was a happy—almost hopeful—light in his eyes. “You said we’re supposed to be working. You’re s’posed to be painting the rails, and me and Zach are s’posed to be sweeping.”

Mitch sighed, murmuring, “So much for stealing a romantic moment.” He stood. “We weren’t kissing, Dylan,” he said, winking down at her. “We were discussing something important.”

Dylan crossed his arms over his chest. “Like what?”

Mitch cocked an eyebrow. “Like how much you and Zach have earned this week.”

Dylan lost the sarcastic tone, dropped his arms to his sides, and adopted an innocent expression. Zach joined him, edging over to Dylan’s side and smiling angelically up at Mitch.

Kristen bit back a laugh. For the past weeks, the boys had worked hard every Friday after school and on the weekends. They had followed Mitch’s every direction to the letter in the fields, had helped Kristen and Emmy till the small vegetable garden behind the house without complaint and had picked bucket after bucket of ripe strawberries, even when buyers had been few and far between.

At first, Dylan had been slow to warm up to Zach, as he’d still been resentful about Zach’s comments to Emmy. But after an apology from Zach and several hours of working together, they had begun chatting about video games during their downtime, then had progressed to hitting baseballs in the backyard and shooting water guns on hot afternoons. The sad look in Dylan’s eyes was less apparent now, and he smiled more often.

“We’ve done good, haven’t we?” Dylan asked.

Mitch smiled. “You’ve both done very well. Enough to earn twice this week what you earned last week.” He ruffled Dylan’s hair. “I’m proud of you both.”

Dylan and Zach lit up, their chins lifting and chests swelling.

“And I think you deserve a break,” Mitch added. “Especially seeing as how today was your last day of school and your summer vacation has officially started. So feel free to knock off for a while and have some fun.”

“Thanks, Mr. Mitch,” Zach said.

Grinning, the boys dropped the broom and dustpan, took off down the front porch steps, then ran around the house toward the backyard.

“What I wouldn’t give for a bit of those boys’ energy,” Emmy said from the other side of the porch.

Kristen smiled. After the scene in town two weeks ago, Emmy had been taking it extra easy lately, leaving the field work to Kristen and Mitch and staying closer to the house. Twice during evening meals she’d seemed confused, but after a good night’s rest, she’d bounced back each morning. She’d lost her temper only once, and her mood seemed to have improved.

Maybe that was what Emmy had needed all along—extra rest, some help, and time to get back to her old self again. And with Mitch staying, she was bound to get even better.

Emmy wrung out the wet towel she’d used to wipe down the windows, did the same with Sadie’s, then stepped back and looked around the porch. “It turned out gorgeous. Looks better than the day me and Joe first stepped foot on it.” Her eyes glistened as she smiled at them. “Thank you both so much.”

“We were happy to do it,” Kristen said, pushing to her feet.

“All it needs is some new furniture.” Mitch glanced at Emmy. “What do you think about a couple new rocking chairs and maybe a swing?”

Sadie squealed and clapped her hands together. “Can we, Nana?”

Emmy nodded. “I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

Smiling, Sadie skipped over to Kristen, her long braid flapping behind her. “Can we get a white one, Ms. Kristen? With squishy cushions?” She patted Kristen’s leg. “Like the one at Ms. Ruth Ann’s?”

Kristen looked down, and her spirits rose even higher as she studied Sadie’s impish grin and bright blue eyes. After the incident in town, Sadie had taken up trailing after her in the afternoons. Though Sadie still kept a good foot of empty space between them, she’d walked with Kristen in the corn and soybean fields as she checked for pests, weeds, and diseases, watching as Kristen measured growth and asking questions without hesitance or reservation.