American Honey

We make short work of the dinner dishes. Since dessert is another apple pie, I ask Bethany if she'd like to go for a walk instead. I try to invite Bess, but am turned down in favor of pie and a firm suspicion she wants Bethany and me to be alone.

Dusk is in full effect, shadows growing into night with each minute passing. The path to the orchard is so well worn and imprinted on me, the lack of light is no concern. It has a happy side effect, however, of Bethany grabbing my arm when she stumbles, and she doesn’t let me go after I right her.

If she's still here in a year, I am definitely asking her out.

“In the summertime, these trees will be full of fireflies.”

She stops walking and sighs. “I can’t remember the last time I saw a firefly.

Shaking my head, I give her arm a little tug to get her moving again. “You’ll be seeing them almost every night in a month or so, as long as you look outside just after the sun’s set.”

“Another thing to look forward to.”

We fall into an easy pace, her arm still around mine. “Another thing? Do you have a list going?”

It’s still light enough that I can see her nod. “I do, not written down or anything.” She taps her head. “All up here.”

We’re almost out of the orchard and I point out the small grouping of gravestones. “Do cemeteries scare you? We can avoid it if you’d like.”

Her pull on my arm toward the gravestones answers my question. “Has this always been here? How old are these? Is it like your family plot?”

"Not just immediate family, but we still consider it the family plot if that makes sense."

She peers at the stones, the light probably making the markings hard to read. "I'd love to come back here during the day."

"You're welcome anytime."

The absence of sunlight in no way diminishes the brightness from her responding smile. It lights up her face and eyes in a way that makes my chest tight. Were I not exhaling and inhaling without struggle, I would think she takes my breath away. Dizzy, and not from lack of oxygen, I dumbly blink at her.

As if realizing the effect a full blast of her smile is having on me, she looks away. "That's so nice. Thank you."

Once we return to the main path, we are back to the main house in no time.

"I should be probably be getting home," she murmurs.

Nervously, I wonder if something from our walk bothered her. "Oh, right. Hang tight. I'm going to give Bess a heads up that I'm running you home."

Hurriedly, I find Bess and let her know where I am going. Only reason I do is so she won’t worry. The gleam in her eyes makes me second-guess it though. Making the excuse that Bethany is waiting for me, I leave before she can encourage me to ask her out.

Ignoring the attraction I feel for Bethany is impossible. I'm just trying to be smart about it. She's our closest neighbor. With any luck, she'll stay a while.

If it turns out country life doesn't suit her and she leaves, at least there won't be any feelings on either side complicating things. If she's still here in ten months, maybe I'll ask her out.

She turns when I open the front door, the light resting on her face. "Ready?"

Her lips curve. "Yep."

Offering my arm, more for the feel of hers than anything else, we walk toward my cabin. Walking around to the passenger side, I open the door for her. In theory, the act screams gentleman and my mama would be proud, as long as she didn’t know how much leg I get to enjoy as Bethany settles in her seat. The thoughts running through my mind are anything but gentlemanly.

Attractio

n is there. An internal debate sparks between my common sense and go-with-the-flow self. Repercussions of things ending badly with my closest neighbor keep me from acting on that attraction. Besides, if she still lived here in ten, er, make that nine months, I’m asking her out.

Chapter Three

“What do you think about this color?”

I squint at the twelfth paint chip I’ve been asked to give my opinion on in the last five minutes. “Did you show me that one already?”