Second Chance at Sunflower Ranch (The Ryan Family #1) by Carolyn Brown

Lettie smiled and winked at Amos.

“What’s that all about? Are y’all taking bets on me and Cricket?” he asked.

“We never tell the folks that we’re betting on,” Nadine said. “That would be cheating.”

The phone rang and Tandy motioned for him. “Doc just called to say he was faxing over a whole page of prescriptions for the nursing home patients.”

Bryce pushed back his chair, but he looked over his shoulder and noticed that Lettie had an envelope out. Amos handed her another bill. Bryce was too far away to see how much he was betting, but he figured they had a pot going where he and Cricket were concerned.

The afternoon went by in a flash. There was a constant flow of customers in the store, and the bar stools and tables were full most of the time. Bryce filled a hundred prescriptions before closing and had at least twenty on his counter to start filling the next morning. At five o’clock, he closed shop and rushed home to his apartment. He got all his fishing gear together and changed into his most comfortable jeans and a comfortable old T-shirt.

He whistled all the way down the stairs leading into the garage, pushed the button to open the overhead door, and loaded his gear into his vehicle, which was parked out on the curb. The radio came on when he started the engine, and the song playing put a grin on his face. Bonnie Raitt was singing, “Something to Talk About.” That was the song that Cricket had been singing at the beginning of the week when he met her for the first time. Just hearing the lyrics put a visual of her in those shorts with her midriff showing.

The song ended, but he kept humming it through five minutes of commercials. The words were still playing through his head when he turned down the lane to the farm. He got out of the SUV and headed around back to the garden, where he could hear two female voices. He could hardly believe that the woman in shorts and a faded T-shirt with her hair pulled up in a ponytail was Anna Grace. She had freckles across her nose, and dirt had collected in the sweat beads on her neck.

“Hey, I’m here,” Bryce called out. “Where do you want me to begin?”

“Could you bring in the watermelons and cantaloupes?” Cricket asked. “Having this much help is great.”

“Before you start, could you take a picture of me picking beans?” Anna Grace asked. “I want to send it to Tommy.”

“What about your mother?” Cricket teased.

“Her, too,” Anna Grace laughed. “I figure if I can make it through dusting shelves and sweeping floors at the store, then picking beans here and helping cook supper, I’m on my way.”

Bryce just nodded and hoped that Cricket hadn’t asked her to go fishing with them, too. He had been looking forward all day to spending time alone with Cricket.

“Tommy is driving up here tonight.” Anna Grace’s voice sounded excited. “He has to take classes this summer to keep up his teaching certificate, but he’s got time off until Monday. Cricket says that he can stay with us, and he’s even offered to help out in the garden and at the store.”

“Fantastic!” Bryce could have danced a jig right there in the wet dirt. That meant Anna Grace would be busy with Tommy, and he could spend time with Cricket.

Bryce pulled his phone from his bibbed pocket and shot a picture of Anna Grace, and then turned it slightly to take half a dozen shots of Cricket picking tomatoes. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and checked the pigtail on the first watermelon vine. It was still green, so he moved on to the next one, which was brown. When he picked the melon up, it came off the vine easily.

“Looks like you’re going to have a lot to take to the bookstore tomorrow,” he said. “You want to put some in my vehicle? I’ll bring them over when you open up tomorrow.”

“That would be great,” Cricket said. “And thank you. I’ve been selling everything I take in by noon each day, but I haven’t had watermelons in two days. Folks have their name on a list for me to call when we harvest some more. Lettie and Nadine are always at the top, so you can just drop one at their house.”

“Will do,” he answered and went on to check the next melon. By the time he finished, there were ten cantaloupes and half a dozen watermelons in the back of his SUV. He washed off his feet with the garden hose, sat on the back porch until they dried, and slipped on his flip-flops. The women had gone into the house earlier, and the smell of cinnamon and the sizzle of ham frying met him when he opened the back door.

“Something smells good in here,” he said.

“French toast and ham,” Cricket said. “I’ve got a small container of maple syrup in my tote bag, and there’s a bowl of fresh fruit, and a chunk of leftover blackberry cobbler in the fridge that I’ll tuck in for you.”

Bryce’s stomach growled loudly. “That sounds wonderful.”

Cricket explained everything to Anna Grace as she cooked. When the ham was browned, she put it on a platter and divided it into four pieces. She dipped two slices of thick homemade bread in an egg, milk, sugar, and cinnamon mixture and browned them two at a time. When she had done eight, she made four sandwiches, put them into individual containers, and slid them down into her tote bag.

“We’re ready to go,” she said. “Bryce, you can get your fishing gear and the beer, and I’ll carry this and my fishing stuff.”