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  I don’t even spare a moment to consider the consequences. “I’m going to stick to my answer.”

  All the board members start furiously jotting down notes. And I realize I’ve thrown them for a loop as they truly were more interested in my orchard project than the vineyard. And I also realize this isn’t just about the importance to Colt and his family, but perhaps to the community as a whole. I may not have been living here long, but what little bit I’ve come to know I really respect.

  “In fact,” I say carefully as all sets of eyes come to me. “Is it possible for me to withdraw my application?”

  It feels like the air is sucked out of the room and the board members look at me in bewilderment. Miss Caldwell gives me a tight smile. “That is your choice, of course, though I’m not sure I would recommend it.”

  I push up from my chair and place the palms of my hands on the tabletop. Glancing around the room, I give each board member an appreciative smile. “I really, really appreciate all of you taking the time to consider my request. But it suddenly occurred to me there could be other factors that are more important than my needs for that grant. I know of no industry that has such an important sense of community than farming, and your question prompted me to consider that. I’m going to formally withdraw my application, and it is my sincere hope you will have no qualms in giving the grant to Mainer Farms.”

  Miss Caldwell throws her pen down onto her notepad with a huff, but the other board members smile at me with respect.

  All I know is that when I pull away from the Department of Agriculture building, I’m feeling very good about my decision.

  CHAPTER 6

  Colt

  Saturday night is the busiest time of the week at Chesty’s. The crowd is always a mix of varying ages but locals to the area. Saturday night is also when the real drinkers come out to Chesty’s. The regulars include Judge Bowe, who is standing next to Pap’s bar stool drinking a draft beer; Floyd, who is nursing a Coca-Cola because he’ll be on town protection duty later tonight with his shotgun; and Billy Crump from the grocery store. I also see Jason Miller and Della Padgett, who are dating and will often come in for an early drink on Saturday.

  The one person who is noticeably absent from the seat next to Pap is my sister, Trixie. Before she reconnected with her first love, Ry Powers, Trixie was here every Saturday night with Pap. Those two are tighter than tight. While she may not hang out with him at Chesty’s as much as she did before, she is still the apple of his eye over the rest of us Mancinkus kids.

  “Colt… can I get two Bud Lights and a Michelob,” someone hollers from the opposite end of the bar from where Pap and Judge Bowe are standing. I turn that way to see Gill Ellis standing with his crony Travis Robbins, and Travis’ girlfriend, Cindy Lou Peep. Not kidding about that name. It’s really Cindy Lou Peep.

  I withhold a grimace because Gill and Travis are two of the biggest redneck jerks in Scuppernong County. They’ve been run out of Pap’s bar more times than not. It wasn’t overly long ago they were banned for saying horrible things to a good friend of the Mancinkus clan. Morri D is quite the character. Black, gay, and a cross-dresser on occasion, he’s the best friend of my brother Lowe’s wife, Mely. That makes Morri one of us, and we don’t let people mess around with family or friends of family. Their racist, homophobic comments earned them a one-way ticket out to the sidewalk.

  I heard through the grapevine that Gill and Travis came to Pap with their tails between their legs and thoroughly apologized for their behavior. Pap wasn’t having any of it. He told them they couldn’t come back into the bar until they apologized to Morri himself. Since Morri was back in New York, this presented a problem for the dudes.

  But their love of drinking beer and playing pool in Chesty’s outweighed the difficulties they faced. They begged Mely and Lowe for Morri’s phone number, then they called him and apologized. Pap verified.

  I don’t feel for a second it was genuine. It only served their purpose to be allowed back in Chesty’s, but a deal’s a deal. It will merely be any given night coming up in the future they’ll do something stupid and get kicked out again. Until then, they’re paying customers.

  I grab the beers they requested, twisting the tops off and flicking them expertly into the large garbage can that sits underneath the cash register. After I make change for the purchases, I notice the door opening and my heart skips a tiny beat when Darby walks in behind my sister, Larkin. I don’t spare but a glance at my sister and instead, I focus on the beautiful blonde I’m embarrassed to say I have thought about a time or two this past week.

  When I saw her two days ago at the Department of Agriculture, she was dressed as an elegantly chic businesswoman. Tonight, she looks like she belongs in Whynot, wearing well-fitted jeans and a plain, but pretty, black sweater that hangs off one shoulder. My eyes travel down the length of her, and I smile when I see she’s wearing a pair of black Chuck Taylor’s.

  As if she knew I was staring at her, Darby’s eyes immediately catch mine as I wipe down the bar top. Larkin grabs her hand, taking her attention and leading her over to where Pap is. I cut my eyes over there often, watching as Larkin introduces Darby first to Pap, who gives her a hearty handshake, and next to Judge Bowe, who inclines his head to her in a southern gentleman fashion. Pap barks at two customers who are sitting on the barstools next to him, and they jump up to offer Darby and Larkin their seats.

  That’s my cue to walk that way and take their order.

  I ignore Travis Robbins as he calls out to me for something else, knowing he’s not going anywhere and I will get whatever he wants later. Using my wet rag to wipe down the area right in front of where Darby and Larkin are sitting, I give my most genial and charming smile to Darby as I ask, “What are you drinking tonight, darlin’?”

  Larkin rolls her eyes so dramatically I can actually see it out of my peripheral vision. She answers for them both. “Give us two drafts.”

  I don’t even look at my sister but instead wink at Darby. “Coming right up.”

  When I bring the two frosty mugs filled with ice-cold beer to the ladies, I tell Darby, “That’s on me tonight.”

  She blushes prettily and inclines her head. “Thank you very much.”

  “My pleasure.”

  She takes a sip of the beer and sets the mug back down on the counter top. After swallowing, she gives me a pointed look and says, “I understand congratulations are in order.”

  I lean over, placing an elbow on the bar top so I don’t have to yell above the music and chatter of the patrons. I had been expecting her to say something like that since I had gotten notice this morning via a telephone call I had been awarded the expansion granted by the Department of Agriculture. Darby would have gotten a call as well to let her know she did not get it.

  “I will take your congratulations but I’m the one that needs to be thanking you,” I tell her with a solemn look.

  She looks confused, but I’m not buying it for a moment. I lean in even closer. “I know you pulled your application.”

  Darby’s chin jerks inward, and she tries to pull off an even more surprised yet slightly affronted expression. “Why would you ever think that?”

  I chuckle and lean in just a little bit closer to her. Her blue eyes are absolutely mesmerizing. “Darlin’… there’s a little thing around here called the gossip mill. You probably don’t have one of these where you’re from but let me tell you, it means you can’t hide anything around here.”

  “Gossip mill?” A strawberry-blonde eyebrow arches high.

  I nod effusively. “Gossip mill. You see, Donnie Rhodes is one of the gentleman who was on the board interviewing us two days ago. His wife Linda has a cousin, Trudy, who lives here in Whynot. She was apparently in Central Café yesterday telling Floyd all about the interviews and how you told the board the grant should be awarded to Mainer Farms. Furthermore, my understanding is that when one of the board members indicated you might be in the lead for votes, you actually requested
your application be withdrawn.”

  I give her a satisfied smirk and cut my eyes toward Larkin. She’s highly entertained by this conversation.

  When I turn back to Darby, she is lowering her eyes somewhat shyly down to her beer.

  “Seriously, though, Darby. Thank you.” I stare until she lifts her gaze to mine and gives a small nod of acknowledgment of my gratitude.

  “Therefore, all of your beers for the rest of your life here in Chesty’s are on me.”

  Travis Robbins yells from the other end of the bar again. “Colt. The jukebox took my money, dammit.”

  Before Darby can say anything else, I give her a wink and push off from the counter. “Duty calls.”

  ♦

  It only gets busier as the night wears on, and I find myself with little opportunity to socialize with anyone. I’m hopping from customer to customer, filling beer orders and the occasional glass of wine. The more people drink, the more I cook my share of frozen pizzas. The food at Chesty’s is basic. Frozen pizza, which is best served with Texas Pete hot sauce and garlic salt, a variety of chips or peanuts, and a large jar of pickled eggs and beets that Pap makes himself every week. Sounds disgusting, but they’re actually really good.

  I can’t help but notice Darby seems to be having a good time. She’s a beer drinker… Corona to be exact. She switched over after the first draft beer, and I diligently bought them for her all night. She didn’t seem to mind Chesty’s isn’t fancy enough to carry lime wedges. She and Larkin bounce around the bar playing pool or darts. In between those games, they come back to sit next to Pap, carrying on lively conversations. It also doesn’t slip my notice that several of the male patrons attempt to flirt with Darby. She rebuffs all of them politely, and I’m not sure how that makes me feel. I would bet she’s still too fresh off her marriage ending to even give another man attention in the romantic way.

  “Colt,” Pap calls me, and I walk his way.

  “What’s up?” I ask. He doesn’t want a beer because the one in front of him is half full.

  “Why don’t you take a break?” he says as he pushes off his barstool. “I’ll watch the bar for about fifteen or twenty minutes.”

  I cock an eyebrow at Pap. In all the years I have been bartending for him, he has never once offered to watch the bar for me so I can take a break. I don’t point this out, but instead say, “You know you can’t be behind the bar because you’ve been drinking.”

  “I’m as sober as one of the Whynot church ladies on Sunday morning,” he retorts.

  This is untrue. He is not sober, but he also isn’t drunk. He never gets drunk. He’ll usually just nurse a few beers through the night. Still, that’s not my point. “It doesn’t matter if you’re drunk or not; the law says you can’t be behind the bar drinking.”

  “I won’t be drinking,” he says with a sly grin. “I’ll just be manning the bar while you take a little break.”

  I put my elbows on the bar top and lean toward him. “What are you doing?”

  “Not doing anything,” he says evasively.

  He’s up to something, but I don’t feel like figuring it out right this second. He’s offering me a break, and I’m not one to turn my nose up at that. I gallantly push open the swing-through door at the end of the bar and make a dramatic sweeping motion with my arm for him to come back into my inner sanctum. He snorts at my antics, grumbling something about me not being too old to take over his knee as he brushes past me.

  I slip through the door to the other side of the bar and take the seat he had just vacated. I call out after him, “Hey… bring me a beer, why don’t you?”

  Whether he hears me, I don’t know because my attention is taken by two hands clapping down on my shoulders. I turn to find Larkin standing there with a sloppy grin on her face. She’s on her way to getting drunk.

  “What are you doing on this side of the bar?” she says. She proceeds to wrap her arms around my neck to give me a stranglehold of a hug.

  I pull her arms away from my neck. “Pap insisted I take a break.”

  Larkin moves from my back to my side, cocking an identical eyebrow to the one I threw at Pap moments ago. “He’s up to something.”

  I chuckle and nod in agreement. “Totally up to something.”

  At that moment, Darby plops down in the stool adjacent to mine and gives an overly dramatic huff of fatigue. “That’s it. I’m done. No more darts because I suck.”

  “You don’t suck,” Larkin says, and I can tell this has been a subject of debate between them tonight. “You just need some practice.”

  Darby shakes her head, causing her unusually colored locks to swirl around her shoulders. I have to resist the urge to reach out and touch it.

  “I’m not meant to be a dart player,” she laments. “Or a pool player. If I come to a bar, what I’m good at is drinking beer, and I think I’ll stick to that.”

  That makes me laugh and it’s as if Darby didn’t realize I was sitting there, because she brings her eyes to mine.

  “Well hello there, Colt Mancinkus,” she says with a toothy grin.

  “Hello there, Darby McCulhane,” I reply with a corresponding playful smile. “I’m thinking you girls are going to need a ride home tonight. If you stay until I close the bar, I’ll take you both home.”

  Larkin reaches an arm between Darby and me to grab her beer off the bar top. She tilts it back and drains it. “I’ll probably be passed out before the bar closes. I’m sure Andy will give us a ride home soon.”

  Andy Forrester is one of the town deputies. If he’s on duty tonight, he’ll gladly give Larkin and Darby a ride home. He’s been sweet on Larkin since we were in grade school, but I know the sentiment is not returned on her part. She’s kept him totally in the friend zone for years.

  “How are you settling in?” I ask Darby.

  Darby smiles and gives me a hapless shrug. “I’m loving it here. It’s so quiet and peaceful, and I don’t have to deal with…”

  Her words trail off. It’s clear she’s avoiding a touchy subject, which I am assuming is her husband.

  “Where is Linnie tonight?” I ask to change the subject. I’m gallant that way.

  Darby’s face pinches, and she wrinkles her nose slightly before she answers, “Her father made a surprise trip to North Carolina this weekend. She’s staying the night with him.”

  I have no clue what the deal is between Darby and her soon-to-be ex-husband. The most Laken has told me is it was not a good marriage, and it was Darby’s decision to leave. It’s also really none of my business so I don’t ask her about it.

  Before I can change the subject once again, Larkin grabs Darby and pulls her from the stool. “Come on… Let’s go play one more game of pool.”

  Darby rolls her eyes. Laughing, she gives me an exasperated grin as she allows my sister to lead her off.

  I watch both women for a few minutes, pondering the mystery of Darby McCulhane. She is nothing like I expected. I have to admit I’m greatly intrigued by her.

  CHAPTER 7

  Darby

  I hear the crunch of gravel outside and peek through the lacy curtains covering the kitchen window above the sink. As expected, Mitch’s rental car is coming up the long gravel driveway to Farrington Farms. Even though I’ve escaped what had become an intolerable situation with Mitch over the last few years, my skin still crawls with the prospect of having to deal with him. It was an extremely difficult decision to leave him, and a brutal experience breaking the news to him that I wanted out of the marriage.

  Mitch has been nothing but combative, manipulative, and determined not to let me get away. When he showed up at the farm on Friday night without even bothering to give me a head’s-up he was coming to North Carolina, there was a part of me that was a little fearful. Almost as if I were being stalked, but I told myself it was ridiculous. Mitch was here for Linnie.

  Or so he said.

  As it turns out, Mitch—if he can be believed—had a meeting at his company’s office in
Raleigh. It was not unusual for him to travel at least once a quarter to North Carolina, so I can’t say for sure whether this was a legitimate trip. I don’t think for a moment his main goal in coming out to the farm was to see Linnie as he suggested, but rather to put himself in my presence and make yet another appeal for us to come back home.

  I’m proud I shut him down fairly quickly on Friday, and I had absolutely no problem bundling up Linnie with a small bag of essentials for her to stay with him for two nights at a hotel in Raleigh. While her sulking had diminished somewhat, I was still getting plenty of attitude from her. I’d hoped spending two days with her father might remind her I was actually the fun, loving, and genuinely caring parent out of the two of us.

  Mitch pulls the car parallel with the sprawling porch that runs along the front of the house and continues in an L-shape around the eastern side of the structure. There’s nothing on the porch, but I imagine it would look beautiful with some rocking chairs and potted ferns hanging from above.

  I dry my hands on a dish towel and make my way out onto the front porch, resting my hands on my hips as Mitch and Linnie get out of the car. He pulls her backpack out of the backseat and hands it to her.

  “Why don’t you take this inside?” he instructs her.

  Linnie stares at him a moment, probably not sure if this is where she should hug him goodbye or not. Mitch doesn’t help her out at all, only adding, “I need to talk to your mother.”

  He reaches out and ruffles her hair, and I can see this confuses her even more. Knowing Mitch, this is his goodbye to his daughter. I’m not sure he would even think to bend over to give her something as parental as a hug or tell her how much he’s going to miss her.

  Linnie takes the backpack and without a word to her father, she heads up the porch steps. I give her an encouraging smile, but she won’t meet my eyes, so I reach out and stop her with my arm across her chest. She actually lets me pull her into my side and, amazingly, also lets me kiss the top of her head. “Missed you, kiddo.”