Page 10 of The Party Line

Was that little joke about whatever fertilizer or trick they had for strawberries been what had started the rumor that lasted for more than eighty years? I was pondering on that when I heard deep laughter and folks talking. What sounded like a dozen mice fighting over a chunk of cheese came from the hinges of Jasper’s wooden screen door when he pushed it open. I reminded myself to take some oil out there and fix the squeak. Everett followed Jasper outside, both of them still chuckling.They each claimed a rocking chair and set their mugs of coffee on the stump between them. I waved at the two old guys and peeked around the corner of the house to find a tall, dark-haired guy setting up a canopy not far from the house.

“That’s Connor, my grandson,” Everett yelled. “Go on out there and introduce yourself to him. He’ll be taking over the strawberry business this week.”

“He looks busy,” I said, raising my voice. “Maybe some other time.”

Jasper shook his head, frowned, and pointed at me, then swung his finger around toward the strawberry field. I bit back a giggle. There I was, almost thirty years old and still feeling like I had to obey my elders. Since I worked from home these days, I didn’t bother with makeup or getting dressed in anything that resembled a power suit. That morning I was wearing an oversize T-shirt with a picture of Dolly Parton on the front, no shoes, and faded jeans—a step up from my usual pajama bottoms. A pretty stiff breeze sent strands of hair flying around my face. I was in no shape to meet anyone, but if Jasper wanted me to traipse out to where Connor was working, I would do just that.

He saw me coming and laid a wrench down on the long table. He wiped his right hand on the leg of his jeans and stuck it out. “You must be Lila. Grandpa has talked about you often. I’m Connor.”

“I am, and I’m pleased to meet you, Connor.” I looked him right in his mossy green eyes and shook hands with him. When Mama measured my height for my high school–graduation gown, I was just an inch shy of six feet tall. Connor towered over me and had to be at least six feet, three inches. His olive drab T-shirt—the same color as his eyes—stretched across his broad shoulders and did a poor job of covering his ripped abdomen.

“Since we’re neighbors, I reckon it won’t be long until we are friends,” he said and dropped my hand.

“I hear you’re retired from the army.” My fingers still felt hot, as if I had held them up to Aunt Gracie’s fireplace to warm them in the dead cold of winter.

“Not really retired. More like got booted out after sixteen years. The last mission got me this scar,” he said, pointing to his cheek. “Right along with a worse one on my leg. The higher-ups determined that I couldn’t do my job anymore, so they sent me packing with a medical discharge. Not to worry, though; Grandpa says that I’m capable of running a strawberry stand. If I do that well, then I get to sit on the board of directors at his oil company in San Antonio sometime in the future.” He punctuated that with a chuckle.

I twisted my hair up and secured it with an elastic ponytail holder. “How does he determine if you did the job well?”

“I really don’t know. I haven’t ever had a list of what the criteria is for that particular job”—he shook his head with a smile—“and don’t really care because I’m not so sure I want to wear a suit and drive to San Antonio every day, either.” He waved over the canvas canopy he had already set up so the table would have some shade. “Come on into my parlor here and have a seat. I won’t be leaving until Grandpa’s done visiting Jasper. Those two old guys will talk for a while yet. I wouldn’t be surprised if Grandpa doesn’t come with me every day just to visit with Jasper. They do love to reminisce.”

I rounded the end of the table and sat down in the nearest chair. “When I was home last year, there were only three chairs: one for Jasper, one for Everett, and one for Aunt Gracie.”

“Yep, but Grandpa told me to set up four chairs, and the military taught me to obey orders.” He handed me a basket full of ripe strawberries he must have picked that very day. “Have a snack while we visit. The new order of things is that there’s a chair for me, one for each of the old guys, and one for you when you bring us sandwiches and tea for lunch.”

I hadn’t been aware that the job of providing sandwiches had come with my inheritance from Aunt Gracie, and I started to argue. But the pesky voice inside my head whispered softly,This would be a great opportunity for you to hear their stories—and besides, that Connor is one good-looking fellow.

“Thanks for the strawberries and for the chair.” I used my thumbnail to remove the green leaves from the end of a plump red berry before I popped it into my mouth.

“You are welcome,” Connor said. “I am sorry about Gracie. We would have been at the graveside service, but Grandpa said she told him that she wanted to go out of this world without any fanfare.”

“Thank you for honoring her wishes. We tried to do things just like she wanted. Though you should hear Jasper be crabby about the lack of visitors.”

Connor sat down in the chair at the far end of the table. “Grandpa told me that her passing made him get on the ball about making some new arrangements in his life. I don’t know what they are, but he and his lawyer spent several hours in his office this past week.”

“Aunt Gracie had everything written down—even to which hairdresser was to fix her hair and what red pantsuit we were to bury her in. I figured she would leave the house to my mother—but then, she knew how Mama felt about the place. I’m rambling on ...,” I said and popped another strawberry in my mouth. I tended to talk too much when I was nervous, and a mouth full of food would keep me from doing that.

“You can ramble all you want. I love to hear you talk. Seems like I lost a lot of my accent while I was in the military,” Connor said.

No one had ever told me that they liked my accent—but then, I’d lived in Texas my entire life and had only traveled to a couple of other states. “Thank you.” I paused. “I think.”

“Itwasa compliment,” he said with a grin that deepened the scar on his cheek. “If you want to know for sure if I’m giving you a compliment, here’s another one: you are a beautiful woman.”

Blushing makes every freckle on my face stand out like Christmas lights, so I fought it, but the redness won the battle. “Thank you,” I muttered as I stood up. “I really should be going now.”

“You are blushing. I’ll take my compliment back if you stay a while longer,” he said.

“No, sir. It’s mine and I’m not giving it back to you. I’m going to think about that the rest of the day. Not many folks outside of family has called mebeautifulbefore.” I liked the little tap dance of desire chasing through my body too much to give any of his words back to him.

He pushed back his chair and followed me across the lawn. “Then you’ve been around the wrong people.”

I reached to open the gate, but he was faster. His hand brushed against mine, and there was that same little surge of heat again. I attributed it to not having had a date in a couple of years. Working from home certainly put a damper on any kind of social life. That, and the fact that most men even near my height ran toward short women who made them feel all macho.

He walked with me all the way to the porch steps and lingered there. “Did moving to Ditto give you a dose of culture shock?”

“A little,” I admitted. “How about you?”

“Oh, yeah,” he grinned. “But Poteet is only five minutes down the road, and it’s got a little more to offer.”

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