Page 37 of Cherry Tree Ranch

“Cool. You heard me about still being able to get stung, right?”

“I heard you. And I know.”

He grunts out a laugh. “Just going to pretend you don’t, huh?”

“I’m being optimistic, not pretending.”

“I see. Isn’t optimism normally saved for things that can change? Not to rain on your parade, but your allergy isn’t going away.”

I turn my back to him. He’s right and I hate it.

“By the way … there’s a lot more I can help you with. My uncle taught me how to run haying equipment. We could get your fields going and, if you put up some hay, you’d make a lot more money.”

“I’m not sure it’s worth trying,” I say, bringing another bowl of cherries to the pot and dumping them in. “I think there’s something wrong with the soil and the only water we have is the snow melt that collects in the pond. Besides, isn’t it a little late in the year to start?”

“Not necessarily. If you have great conditions, it could grow enough to cut in three months. There’s still time for that.”

“Let’s say I had the money to buy seed and we get all the ancient equipment running, what else would I need?”

“Fertilizer.” He pauses about to say something, but snaps his mouth shut. “So I want to tell you—”

My phone buzzes on the counter. I glance away from the cherries in the pot. The juices are beginning to thicken to a brilliantly red gel.

Wyatt: The group chat doesn’t exist any more. Got your number from a friend. How does dinner tomorrow night sound?

I hold the phone rigidly still. Wyatt is asking me out? I wasn’t expecting to hear from him since it’s been over a week since I saw him. I start typing and then delete everything. I try again.

“You good over there?” Cash asks.

“Yep. All good. Just trying to figure out how to write this person back.”

He gives me a I’m not going to pry nod.

I hold the phone for way too long without moving.

“Anything I can do to help?” Cash says. “Let me guess? It’s that guy, Wyatt?”

I look him dead in the eye, shocked he remembers Wyatt’s name. “How did you know?”

“Just a hunch.”

Should I discuss this with Cash?

“Blue’s the only guy I need right now,” I decide to say.

“He was definitely into you … Wyatt, I mean.” He clenches his jaw.

“You think?” I ask, flattered.

“Coming from a dude, there’s no doubt.” His words should sound positive, but it’s hard to read him.

I study him, wondering why life doesn’t always align us with the people who set our souls on fire.

“I’m not sure he’s my type,” I sigh.

“No? What’s your type, then? Tall, dark and devastatingly handsome?” he says in a deep voice and quirks one eyebrow up with a cartoonish grin.

“Sure…” I tease with a doubtful tone. I put my phone down and decide I’ll reply to Wyatt later.