Page 29 of Pumpkin Patch Pack
I gently nudge her off my lap, brushing hay from my jeans as I stand. My legs feel steadier now, though the double dose of suppressants still makes the edges of my vision blur slightly when I move too quickly.
“Thanks for the therapy session,” I tell Maple, scratching behind her ears. “Your rates are very reasonable.”
A deep voice behind me nearly makes me jump out of my skin. “She prefers payment in apple slices.”
I whirl around to find Liam leaning against the shelter doorway, his large frame filling the space.
How long has he been there? Did he see my near-panic attack?
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I manage, aiming for casualness and probably missing by a mile.
Liam steps fully into the shelter, moving slowly in a way I’ve noticed he always does around me, like I’m a skittish animal he doesn’t want to startle. “You okay? Theo mentioned you might need help.”
So, Theo had sent Liam to check on me. The thought should annoy me, I don’t need minders, but instead, I find it oddly touching.
“I’m fine,” I say automatically. “Just needed a quiet moment. Opening day is a lot.”
Liam nods, studying me with an intensity that should make me uncomfortable but doesn’t. “It can be overwhelming,” he agrees. “All these strangers in our space.”
The way he says, “our space,” spreads warmth through my chest… a dangerous feeling of belonging that I can’t afford.
“I should get back,” I say, gesturing vaguely toward the crowds. “More content to capture.”
“You don’t have to. Theo’s got it covered if you need a break.”
The simple offer nearly undoes me. I’ve been so long without kindness that I hardly know how to receive it.
“I don’t want to shirk my responsibilities,” I protest weakly.
Liam shrugs those broad shoulders. “Taking care of yourself isn’t shirking. Besides,” he smiles, “Maple appreciates the company. She gets grumpy with all these strangers around.”
As if to emphasize his point, Maple looks up at me with those expressive eyes.
“Well, we can’t have a grumpy goat,” I concede, and am rewarded with one of Liam’s rare full smiles that transforms his entire face.
“I need to check on the ponies,” he says, backing toward the door. “But I’ll be around if you need anything.”
After he leaves, I sink back onto the hay bale, Maple climbing into my lap again. Through the shelter doorway, I can see the farm bustling with activity—families laughing, children running, the perfect picture of autumn joy they’ve worked so hard to create.
For the first time, I let myself imagine being part of it instead of just documenting from the sidelines.
“Just for today,” I whisper to Maple, who tilts her head like she’s considering whether this is a reasonable life goal. “Just for today, I’ll pretend I belong.”
She bleats, settling more comfortably against me, and I take that as her agreement.
13
Emma
Sunday passes without incident, but I’m down to my last three suppressants by Monday morning. I swallow two with water.
The persistent headache, dizziness, and nausea from doubling the dose are getting worse. But I don’t have a choice.
I need more suppressants, which means a trip into town. The thought makes my anxiety spike. Small towns notice newcomers. People talk.
But with only one pill left, I’m out of options.
My reflection looks back at me, pale and tired. Dark circles shadow my eyes, and my skin has a sickly pallor.
