Never Let You Go by Berne Emma Carlson

Author:Berne, Emma Carlson [Berne, Emma Carlson]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Published: 2012-12-03T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

The farmers’ market was nestled in a charming little shopping district in the midst of Ault Hill. As they alighted from the rumbling tow truck and waved good-bye to the driver, Megan looked around at the little white tents selling riding clothes and cashmere sweaters and wondered how this place could exist so close to the world of J & B Pawn.

Given Farm’s stall was set up about halfway down the row of vendors. She could see Sarah standing over a basket of green peppers, talking to a middle-aged guy in a golf shirt. Then, with a shiver, she saw Anna and Robert.

Jordan hadn’t said they would be here. She knew she hadn’t technically done anything wrong, but shame and guilt still rose hot in her throat as she approached. She didn’t dare look at Jordan.

“Hey there!” Sarah greeted them cheerfully from behind the wooden plank that served as their counter. “Thomas told us about the truck—that sucks. Glad you guys got back okay.”

“You find the corn guy?” Robert asked as he stacked empty berry boxes.

“Yeah, we found him all right.” Megan slipped behind the counter, and Jordan started helping load the strawberry trays into the van parked behind the stall.

Megan rearranged the tomatoes into a pyramid before daring to cast her eyes over to Anna. Her friend was counting money into a cash box and didn’t look up. Of course she was concentrating, but Megan thought she saw a whiteness around Anna’s pursed lips.

Megan was about to say something when a girl with a peasant skirt and two young guys with bushy beards approached the booth. They were all wearing T-shirts that read AULT HILL FARMERS’ MARKET. They reminded Megan of a cross between nineteenth-century homesteaders and hippies. It wasn’t a look that she was used to in suburban Cleveland, but out here it seemed to work.

“How’re you guys?” the girl asked.

“Hey!” Sarah kissed each on the cheek, then turned to the others. “This is Dee, Murray, and Charles. They’re in charge of the farmers’ market association.”

Megan nodded.

“Your tomatoes look fantastic,” Dee said. She picked up one of the plump, juicy globes and hefted it in her palm. “Beautiful. How many acres did you guys plant?”

“Just one. You know, we fertilized this year with cow manure instead of horse, and I really think it’s making a difference.” Sarah smiled at a young woman with a double stroller who had stopped to look at the piles of parsley and basil. “Hey, are you guys coming to Midsummer Night this year?”

“Oh, definitely,” one of the guys said. Megan couldn’t remember if he was Charles or Murray. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Thomas throws a big party around the solstice every year,” Sarah explained to the others. “It’s Saturday night out on the lawn. It’s great—we cook, and there’s an old-timey band. Everyone gets dressed up.”

“That sounds like fun,” Megan said.

“See you guys then,” Dee said. She waved, and the three strolled away down the aisle of stalls. There was a last-minute rash of people buying things, and for fifteen minutes or so, Megan was too busy to even look up.

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