I avoid the door Zeke went through and enter through the front of the store instead. A pretty girl sitting behind the counter smiles as I walk in, and I find myself grinning back at her. She must be what Nan meant when she said the people around here were kind.

“Can I help you find anything?”

I almost snort when I look around the economically stocked store. There are all sorts of contraptions I can’t begin to understand their uses on old rusted shelves. Pallets of feed are spaced around, as the slightest scent of farm animals lingers in the air.

“Is Mr. Alfred in?”

She grins at me, her cheeks pulling up into a genuine smile as she lifts the phone on the counter to her right.

“John to the front counter,” she says into the receiver, her voice blaring all around us.

She chuckles as she hangs up the phone, no doubt finding it funny the way I jerked at the abrupt sound of the intercom.

“I’m Rebecca.” She holds her hand out to me and I immediately take it in mine even though it’s a little strange to me for a girl close to my age to shake hands in introductions. Back home people usually just hitch their head up a few inches.

As I take her hand, she stands from the stool she’s been sitting on, and my eyes widen at her rounded belly. Noticing where my attention has landed, her left hand lifts from her side, resting on top of her apparently pregnant belly. A dull gold wedding band encircles her ring finger.

“Someone told me baby number two is more obvious than the first one. I didn’t believe them until I woke up last week as big as I was at six months with Joseph Jr.”

I do my best to smile. Baby number two? She can’t be older than eighteen, nineteen at the most.

“I… umm… I don’t know anything about pregnancies,” I say when nothing else comes to mind. I don’t want to come across as rude, but I’m shocked.

“They’re not so bad after the first trimester,” she confides.

“I’ll take your word for it,” I tell her, but give her a bright smile. “Do you know what you’re having this time?”

“Not yet. Momma thinks it’s another boy. That would make my husband happy. He says the world is too dangerous these days for girls.”

I open my mouth to speak, but a loud clap of hands draws my attention to the side.

“You must be Frances! I should’ve known you were in here when I saw Ezekiel out back.” An older man walks toward me with a vibrant smile. Instead of offering his hand in introduction the way Rebecca did, he pulls me to his chest, hugging me like a relative he hasn’t seen in a very long time.

“Mr. Alfred?”

The man backs away, holding me at arm’s length, his grip firm yet soft on my upper arms as his eyes wash over me. For some reason his perusal isn’t creepy, but I’m still not comfortable with the contact. Affection isn’t a common thing in my household, and I’m always awkward when it’s directed at me.

“Call me John,” he instructs. “You look just like your momma.”

His eyes fill with pride, never faltering even when I take a step back.

“You’re Frances Jacobson?” Rebecca asks, and when I turn back to look at her, I see that she’s already resettled on the stool behind the counter. Pregnancy must be exhausting.

“Frankie, please,” I say, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear and pulling the borrowed baseball cap lower on my head. I realize, I never got the chance to tell her my name since my eyes were glued to her rounded belly. “And it’s Young, not Jacobson.”

“Frankie,” Rebecca repeats with another soft smile.

“It was nice to meet you, Frankie,” Mr. Alfred says as he finally takes a step back, giving me desperately needed space. “I’ve got to get back to work, but don’t be a stranger.”

I nod in agreement, smiling as he walks away.

“What’s it like?”

I turn back toward Rebecca to find her leaning over the counter as much as her stomach will allow, smiling at me conspiratorially.

“What is what like?” I ask, already feeling uneasy with her clear need to gossip.

“Being around Zeke all day?”

She bites the corner of her lip as she watches over my shoulder to make sure we’re alone.

“Zeke?” My head tilts to the side in confusion.

“Zeke Benson. He works on the Jacobson Ranch, right? All the girls in school had a huge crush on him.”

“He… umm… he works there, but we don’t like hang out or anything.”

It’s close to the truth. We only associate with each other when we’re forced to.

“He’s three years younger than me, but I would’ve dated him in high school if he would’ve even known I was alive.” She peers off into the distance as if she’s conjuring old memories. “Even as a freshman in high school, he drew the attention of every girl in school.”

Tags: Marie James Westover Prep Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net