deep-green
sea of grass. There was a huge red barn out behind the house, and close to the
end of the drive, Sophie could see what looked like a small fruit stand. Between
them and the stand were rows and rows of apple trees.
“What is that place?”
she asked him.
“That will be your
biggest competition,” he said. “It’s the Mayflower Maple Inn.”
“Oh … it’s a beautiful
old house.”
“Yes, this one is owned
by Mrs. Theresa Larson. She and her husband have owned it for over fifty years.
He passed away last year and her daughter came home to help her run the place. Mrs.
Larson is close to eighty years old. She runs that little fruit stand down
there, and her daughter and the staff handle the rest.”
“She sells apples?”
“She does, and she
makes homemade lemonade—the best in the county.”
“Hmm … I am kind of
thirsty,” she said, getting back on her bike.
Drake grinned. “You
just want to get closer so that you can check out the competition, don’t you?”
She nodded as she took
off down the long road that led to the inn. Drake shook his head and followed
her with a smile. The scent of the apple trees as they rode through the grove
was heady and light. Here and there the bright red apples lay on the ground—a
sign that harvest season was coming soon. It was such a cozy scene that when
Drake raced past her, Sophie lost all sense of the mature and serious woman
she’d become. She stood up on her pedals, giggling, and raced him the rest of
the way to the fruit stand. By the time they reached it—with her in the lead—they
were both flushed and out of breath but laughing.
CHAPTER SIX
Drake thought that
Sophie looked like an entirely different woman with color in her cheeks and
light in her eyes. He was so incredibly tempted to kiss her that he was glad Mrs.
Larson was standing there looking at them like they were crazy. He caught his breath
and said, “Hello, Mrs. Larson. How are you today?”
“I’m doing well, Drake.
It’s good to see you.” She looked over the rim of her spectacles and said, “I
don’t think I know you, sweetie.”
“This is Sophie
Michelson, Mrs. Larson. She just bought the old Harvest Moon Inn.”
“Well, that’s quite the
accomplishment for such a young lady. Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Sophie
told her with a genuine smile. “I’m really excited about it.”
“Well, I’ve been in
this business for over half my life,” she said. “If there is anything I can
help you with or any questions I can answer, honey, you feel free to ask. It
seems you already know the best carpenter in town.”
Drake grinned. “Thank
you, Mrs. Larson. Since I’m the only one in town …”
She waved her weathered
palm at him. “You’d still be the best,” she said. She looked at Sophie again
and said, “His daddy used to come by and do repairs for me and my husband on
his days off from work, and he wouldn’t take a dime for it. We kept him
supplied with apples and lemonade. Now his son here has taken to doing the
same.”
Sophie laughed. “Well,
that sounds like a good deal to me. I was hoping to try some of your lemonade.
Drake says it’s the best in the county.”
The old lady winked.
“He knows what he’s talking about,” she said. She went over to the little shed
and through the divided doors. A few minutes later, she came back with two
clear plastic cups of lemonade. Fresh lemon slices floated on top, and she also
had a white bag in her hand. She handed one of the cups to Sophie and the other,
plus the bag, to Drake. “Give that to your Uncle Mac for me, okay?”
“I sure will,” Drake
said.
“How is he doing?”
“Very well,” Drake
said. “Hooter found us a couple of kit foxes two weeks ago. Uncle Mac’s been
nursing them back to health for me while I work. You know how he is … he won’t
admit it, but I think he’s enjoying the company.”
She laughed. It was
more of a cackle, and Drake couldn’t help but smile when he