Courtney sat down beside him. She took off her mini backpack and swatted a mosquito. “It’s not going to be difficult to convince people to visit this place. I mean, who wouldn’t want to play with baby animals for a few hours? They’re so adorable.”

“Right?” Nick nodded. “By the way, I saw your post about my shop. It was totally engaging. Great job. You made us sound really good.”

“Why, thank you.” She flashed a playful grin and adopted a southern drawl. “I told ya you’d like it.”

He laughed. “So how long have you been doing this?”

“The job or the accent?”

Nick laughed again and sat back, stretching out his arm on the back of the bench behind her. “You’ve carved out a pretty cool thing for yourself. I always thought that about Sam, too. He seemed to love his job. Loved going places that he might otherwise never go, finding out about things. Living off unique experiences.” Nick looked thoughtful. “Heck, he probably loves the new job, too. I like to see when people figure out what they’re looking for, what they want to do with their lives. You seem to have done that.”

“Aw, thanks. That actually means a lot. It took some sacrifice to get here. I mean, it’s only for the short-term, but at least it’s steady for a while, and it’s turning out to be a great experience. So it’s a step in the right direction.”

Nick crossed his arms. “Exactly. I get it.”

She sat forward. “I used to have a steady nine-to-five job in Chicago. Copy-editing. And I learned a lot there. But after a while, it was just drudgery, and despite repeated requests, they weren’t going to let me write the stories, just catch the errors. I didn’t have a whole lot to lose at the time, so I gave my notice, and I left. Went out on my own. Started writing. Never looked back.”

Nick looked into her eyes. “Really? That takes guts.”

Courtney returned the look. “Thanks. I mean—it was the undoing of several other important parts of my life.” She made a face and rolled her eyes. “But…let’s not talk about that right now.” She didn’t want to get into any stories about Austin. It was too soon and too dramatic.

“Yep. I can relate.”

“You’re not the type of person who’d be happy behind a desk for long, would you?”

“Nope. You’ve got that right.”

She waited to see if he would explain, but he turned and cast his gaze into the distance. She’d been trying to get a read on him all day, but Nick was no open book.

“You want to walk some more?” he asked.

“Sure.”

Nick stood up.

Courtney followed. “Let’s go see what’s down this end.” She motioned toward the trail.

A few minutes later, they’d walked past the marsh and through a small stand of trees. Soon, they reached a clearing where a series of nineteenth-century cabins and sheds stood—one, a granary and another, a sugar shack, which was used to produce maple syrup from the local trees. Courtney pulled her notebook out and jotted down a few notes.

They strolled through the buildings. Each one offered a different little slice of the history of the area, and Courtney would use some of it in her piece.

Finally, the trail circled back to the barnyard where they’d started.

“Look! Ponies.” Nick walked over to pet one over the fence.

“Oh, they’re so cute,” Courtney gushed. “But these are miniature horses.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Trust me, I know my miniature horses, Farmer Nick.” Courtney grinned. “They’re smaller than ponies. Slightly different proportions, too.”

“Okay, I guess I’ll take your word for it.” Nick scratched the little horse behind the ears. “Trust the journalist. Inquiring minds ought to know.”

Courtney laughed.

Outside the gift shop, which led to the parking lot, Nick stopped under the shade of some trees. “So, do you think you’ve got all you need for the story?”

“Yeah, as far as my own perspective on it—for sure. But I’ve got a quick interview lined up here today, too. I’m supposed to let them know at the gift shop counter when I’m ready and they’ll send someone out to talk to me. I told them I’d be here around this time.”