Page 71 of Sometimes You Stay

“What can I say?” She fanned her face with her phone and raised her eyebrows a few times in an exaggerated motion. When she added in a wolf whistle, he laughed.

Dropping to his knee next to Abner, he hugged the little guy around his neck. “Tell her, boy. You’re the one everyone will want to see.”

Cretia took a few smooth steps in a half circle around them, her motions slow and controlled as she looked right into her screen. “Care to make a friendly wager on that?”

Finn had never been a gambler. That required time and money he was willing to throw away. Two things usually in short supply around his place. But Cretia didn’t look like she was trying to empty his wallet. In fact, her grin suggested much higher stakes.

“What’d you have in mind?”

She clicked her tongue. “I’ll post this video tonight. If it has a hundred thousand views within twenty-four hours, you have to let me name Bella’s puppies.”

Squinting at her, he crossed his arms. “Potato names?”

“Every single one. From Sprout to Tuber.”

“Tuber? You’re not serious.”

“You’re one to be talking.” She dropped her phone to her side, her other hand planted on the curve of her hip. “You wanted to name one Tater.”

“As in Tater Tot. It makes sense.”

“Why not just name him Tot, then?”

“Be—” His words disappeared, and he shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess either would work.”

“Exactly. Clearly you haven’t thought this through. So let me name them. I promise to give the task my full consideration.”

He eyed her carefully. “And if the video doesn’t get a hundred thousand views?”

“I’ll muck out Roberta’s stall for a week.”

Finn gasped so hard that he nearly swallowed his tongue, barely managing to choke out a gravelly chortle while his brain repeated one word.Week.She was planning to stay another week.

His misery had a reprieve. Seven more days. At least.

“I’m determined to make that bovine my friend. Just like Abner is.” Scratching the cow’s chin, Cretia got a sloppy kiss on her wrist, which made her nose wrinkle and her smile grow. “But I’m not going to have to clean up her stall. Because you’re going to get more views than you can imagine.”

“And you’ll mention the business name?”

“Chaffey’s Newfoundlands.” She held out her hand to shake.

Slipping his palm against hers, he squeezed softly. “And you won’t call me Farmer Finn.”

“Oh, I can’t promise that. Roberta still has to have a say.”

Seventeen

“I told you!” Cretia crowed as she pranced into the barn the next morning, waving her phone over her head.

Bent over a stall door and dumping a bucket of oats in Abner’s dish, Finn mumbled something under his breath for the mini cow. For her, he said, “It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours.”

“I know. But I stayed up half the night thinking of potato names.”

He stood, the black bucket hanging by its handle from his fingers as he leaned his hip against the wooden planks of the wall. “Evidence first.” A half grin began to tug at his lips, but his nose twitched as he seemed to fight it.

“You don’t believe me?” She pressed a hand to her chest in feigned distress.

“It’s not you I distrust. It’s the very idea that a hundred thousand people would be interested in a miniature cow.”

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