Famous in a Small Town

by Kristina Knight

  The little wooden fence his grandfather had put around the trees needed a fresh coat of paint, he noted. Collin shook his head. Those five trees were funny now, but he’d been mortified by them just a few years before.

  “Those are Collin’s peaches,” Amanda said, laughing.

  Savannah looked at Amanda and then at Collin. “I don’t get it.”

  Collin sighed. “And this is where I lose my orchardist title.”

  Amanda held her belly and her laughs began to sound like wheezes. “He... Granddad...” Amanda couldn’t get the words past her mouth, so Collin took over.

  “We had a project in 4-H about diversification. It gave me the idea to add peach trees to the orchard. Granddad didn’t like the idea and shut me down.”

  Amanda interrupted, having regained a little control. “So Collin orders the trees online, but they arrive dead. He sends them back before Grandad notices, and uses the refund money to buy trees at the nursery in town,” she said, and then lost it again. Tears streamed down her face.

  “I don’t get it. Obviously the trees grew,” Savannah pointed to the little grove off to the side of the main peach orchard. “And now you have a whole grove of them.”

  “No, he doesn’t,” Amanda said, still holding her sides. She slid down the seat, and Collin reached into the backseat to grab her before she could fall out of the side of the stopped Gator.

  Savannah looked bewildered.

  “I was in a hurry. I’d taken Granddad’s truck and I needed to get back and get them planted before he realized I was gone,” Collin said with a sigh. “So I grabbed four healthy-looking trees with what I thought were the right blossoms and headed back here.”

  “And?” Savannah asked, drawing out the word.

  “They’re plum trees,” Amanda hooted with laughter. “Mr. I Know How to Build A Peach Orchard tried to start it up with plum trees.” And then she really did fall through the open side of the four-seater Gator, which only served to make her laugh harder.

  Savannah chuckled, whether at him or his sister, Collin wasn’t sure. “Plums?” She glanced at him, and her brown eyes were warm with laughter.

  “Plums. In my defense, plum and peach trees have very similar blossoms. Also, I was only sixteen.”

  “So those are Collin’s Peaches,” Amanda said.

  “Granddad bought the first real peach trees for my eighteenth birthday. I think the sweetness of the plums are what made him change his mind about adding the peaches,” he said with a shrug.

  Savannah chuckled. “Why not start a whole plum field?”

  “This isn’t the best area for plum trees, although those have fared really well. Maybe someday,” he said.

  Amanda finally got her laughter under control and got back into the Gator. They arrived at the greenhouses a little while later, and the three of them loaded the back of the Gator with strawberry, blueberry and raspberry plants, along with a small tiller he could use to get the soil ready. He motioned to one of the teenagers he’d hired for the summer, Troy, and the young boy got into the backseat.

  Gran’s garden was on the back side of the house, and his plan was to add on to it.

  He and Troy unloaded the tiller, and he set the boy to work preparing the soil while he went over how to set up the different berry areas with Amanda and Savannah. Savannah looked at her manicured nails and frowned.

  “So much for a week’s worth of Passion Berry Pink,” she said and picked up a flat of strawberries.

  “I can run the Gator back to get you a pair a gloves,” he said, but Savannah shook her head.

  “I managed to milk cows with this manicure, I can handle a little dirt.”

  Collin was beginning to think Savannah could handle almost anything. She’d worn a pair of running shorts and a tank top today, and her hair fell in a mass of twirled locks around her face and past her shoulders. She’d conquered the milking machines; now she was about to plant strawberries. She was about to ruin a manicure.

  This Savannah was so different from the girl he had imagined her to be all those years ago when he’d been intent on ignoring her.

  This Savannah was a Savannah he’d like to spend a lot of time with. Collin shook himself.

  Not going there. She wasn’t staying, so whatever this was between them, it was only temporary. No need to start thinking about a nonexistent future.

  He sent Troy back to the barns to continue sorting produce for the market, handed Amanda a trowel and took one for himself. She was already digging in the area he’d marked for blueberries.

  He could hear music from Amanda’s headphones while they planted. After showing her how to prep the soil for the strawberries, Collin left Savannah in that section and began working on the raspberries. Content in the warm sunshine and fragrant earth, it surprised him when he reached into the box for another raspberry plant and his hand found only cardboard.

  Amanda had grabbed a bottle of water and was sitting with her back against a tall maple, her feet tapping along with the music in her earbuds.

  Savannah put the last strawberry plant in the dirt and settled it with the back of her trowel. She sat back on her heels. Dirt caked her knees and she’d smeared some over one cheek, too. She clapped her hands together, removing some of the dirt, and then examined her hands.

  “Didn’t even lose a nail,” she said. “Although I think the Passion Berry Pink is done for.” Savannah turned her hands so he could see the chipped paint. “Are manicures covered in your benefits plan?” she asked with a grin on her face.

  Collin shook his head and joined her at the edge of the garden. He could feel her warmth through the sleeve of his T-shirt, and it started a slow burn in his belly. “We have other benefits,” he said, and took her mouth with his.

  Savannah wrapped an arm around his neck, settling into the kiss. She twined her legs with his.

  “God, you guys, get a room.” Amanda’s voice broke through his consciousness, and Collin pulled back. Savannah rested her forehead against his, her breathing rough.

  “Saved by the teenager,” she said.

  He grinned. “For now.”

  “Promises, promises,” she said.

  Amanda left the shaded area, tossed her empty water bottle into the bed of the Gator and began picking up the berry flats and cardboard.

  “So you guys are together, huh?” she asked as she worked.

  Collin looked at Savannah, unsure how to answer. She shrugged, which didn’t make it any easier. “We’re, ah, dating,” he said finally, and made a mental note to actually take Savannah somewhere not orchard-related in the near future.

  Savannah cocked an eyebrow at him. Clearly, she thought the term dating was a loose definition of what was happening between them, too.

  “Cool,” was Amanda’s response. She tossed the refuse into the back of the Gator and then Collin loaded the tiller.

  The three of them got into the vehicle, and Collin began the drive back to the barn area. Too soon, the utility vehicle was unloaded and the cardboard flats disposed of. Collin glanced at the sky. A few fat drops of rain fell, and Amanda started for the house.

  “I can’t drive home in this,” she said, motioning to the four-wheeler she’d arrived in this morning.

  “For once, the weatherman was right on the money.” He grabbed Savannah’s hand and started for the house as heavier rain began to fall.

  Inside, Collin handed Savannah a towel, and she dried off her arms and legs. “It’ll pass quickly, just a light shower. Good for Amanda’s berries.”

  “I thought they were for the orchard, not just Amanda?”

  He shook his head as he led her into the kitchen. “Expanding Gran’s little garden was her idea, so they’re Amanda’s Berries.”

  “Like the plums are Collin’s Peaches?”

  H
e grimaced. “Something like that.”

  “Somebody has to bring in new ideas,” Amanda said from the kitchen, where she grabbed another bottle of water. She took two more from the shelf and handed them to Savannah and Collin. “You guys want to play cards while the storm passes?”

  It wasn’t Collin’s first option for spending a rainy afternoon with Savannah, but it was probably the mature thing to do.

  But sometimes doing the mature thing sucked.

  The three of them sat on the screened porch, looking over the garden they’d just planted. The rain brought a cool breeze into the porch, along with the smell of freshly turned soil. A satisfied feeling filled him as he looked out at the new garden. His thigh brushed Savannah’s and a different feeling took over.

  Before she took the four-wheeler back to the ranch, he was going to finish that kiss.

  She elbowed him. “Your draw,” she said, motioning to the cards, but her leg remained beside his and her eyes darkened.

  Definitely, definitely going to finish that kiss, he thought.

  “So cucumber magnolias, apples, plums and peaches. Your grandfather was definitely into trees,” Savannah said as she threw a queen into the discard pile.

  Bad move, Collin thought, picking up the card.

  “Don’t forget the pears,” he said, pulling a second card from the draw pile. He added a jack of diamonds to jacks of clubs and hearts already in his hand. Nice, he thought.

  “And the twisted willows at the pond,” Amanda put in. She looked at Savannah. “He planted those for Mara when she turned eighteen. Granddad said they were complicated, just like her.”

  Savannah sent him a questioning look.

  “Mara was always busy learning computer programming codes, scribbling new code ideas into her notebooks. Granddad didn’t understand how she could find computers more fascinating that nature.”

  “So he gave her trees that were complicated. Makes sense.”

  “Not really,” Collin said as he drew another card. The fourth jack. Just what he needed. Collin laid down his cards. Savannah threw her cards onto the middle of the table, as did Amanda, and Collin began shuffling. “Twisted willows are simple, like most trees. Give them sunlight and water, and they’re happy. Mara took to coding under them, which made him happy.”

  “What about Amanda’s trees? What did he plant for you?” she asked.

  Amanda’s face clouded. “He died when I was fourteen. Gran and Collin and Mara got their trees when they were eighteen. So, no trees for me,” she said, and pressed her lips together.

  Shock hit Collin low in his belly. He hadn’t thought about it before, but Amanda was right—she wouldn’t get her trees. Granddad had left list after list of how Collin should do things when he was gone, but nowhere was there a note about Amanda’s trees. Then their parents had come back. And then they left again.

  Amanda would be eighteen in September.

  Not having trees hadn’t sent Amanda over the edge, but it could have played a part in her behavior changes over the past few months. Damn it, one more thing he hadn’t noticed.

  Savannah looked from his sister to him and back again, seeming to sense the tension that had come into the room. “What kind of tree would you like, if you could pick?” she asked.

  “Virginia live oaks, and I wouldn’t just want one, I would want at least fifteen,” Amanda said without hesitation.

  “That’s specific.” Obviously she’d been thinking about the tree thing for a while now. He shuffled the cards, then began dealing. “Why live oaks and why fifteen?”

  Amanda drew a card and nodded. Collin wondered if she’d drawn a good card or if her happiness was because of the tree conversation.

  “Carbon footprint. Virginia live oaks are one of the best trees to absorb CO2.” Collin blinked and she continued. “That assembly I was telling you about? Some of the fir family are good, too, and maples, but I like the look of the live oaks best. Plus, they stay green nearly year-round.”

  “You’ve thought about this a lot.” He was impressed. And shocked. How had he missed this serious environmental streak in his baby sister all these years?

  “I think about a lot of things a lot,” Amanda said.

  Savannah drew her card, rearranged the cards in her hands and laid down a set of queens as well as a flush.

  “Dang it, I was looking for that one,” Amanda said, pointing at Savanna’s ten of clubs.

  Savannah grinned. “Better luck next time. And I, for one, love live oaks. They’re very ethereal, I think.”

  Collin shot a look at her. “You like live oaks?”

  “They’re the ones with the branches that can reach down to the ground, right? Like in Forrest Gump?”

  He nodded. Savannah continued. “All those big, spreading branches, the thick leaf canopy. It’s kind of like a real-life fairy-tale tree.”

  “And it’s good for the environment,” Amanda put in, as if he could have forgotten her reasons for wanting fifteen of the massive trees so quickly.

  “I got it. An environmentally and romantically-sound tree species.”

  Now to figure out where to put Amanda’s trees, because he couldn’t just not give her the trees. Granddad would have wanted her to have them. More than that, Collin wanted her to have them, too. The young girl could use a strong root system.

  They played two more rounds of rummy—Savannah won both—before the rain began to fade into the distance. Collin was still thinking about the trees and that look on Amanda’s face when she said she didn’t have a tree. That look that said she wasn’t important. The two of them needed to talk, that was certain.

  Thunder rumbled in the distance, breaking Collin away from his thoughts. He should load up her four-wheeler and take Savannah home before the storm hit. The air around them had become very still, the humidity spiking after the gentle rain.

  “I’ll take you home,” he said, putting the cards back into the little box Gran had cross-stitched one year for the farmers’ market. The little boxes had flown off their table.

  “I can take the lake track.”

  “That storm brewing looks like it could turn bad quickly. I’ll load your four-wheeler onto the trailer and take you. Just to be safe.”

  “I’ll go help the guys get the stand settled for the night,” Amanda said and left the porch.

  “Really, you don’t have to drive me home. I’m a big girl.”

  “And you can handle a milking parlor and plant a berry garden without breaking a nail. But I wouldn’t want to be out in that—” he pointed to the low-hanging gray clouds “—on a four-wheeler.”

  It only took a couple of minutes to hitch the trailer to the truck and secure the four-wheeler, and then he was driving down the orchard lane with Savannah sitting beside him on the truck’s bench seat.

  “Thanks for letting me hang with you guys today. I had fun,” she said after a while.

  “Me, too.” It had been fun. More fun than he’d expected, but he was surprised it had been fun for Savannah, who was used to Nashville and celebrity parties and performing before thousands of fans. “Are you bored with the country life yet?” He put a teasing note in his voice, but the question was more serious than he wanted to admit.

  He was getting too close to her, and they’d only just started spending any quality time together. He had no idea what plans she had for her life. What she wanted to do, outside the whole singing thing. Hell, he knew her tattoo better than he knew Savannah. Those lacey white lines on her skin still fascinated him.

  Savannah was quiet for a long moment. Finally, she asked, “Can I ask you a serious question without you immediately thinking I’m some kind of stalker girl trying to hitch her proverbial wagon to yours?”

  “Sure.” Questions were good. Questions were personal. But that “hitching her wagon�
� thing? That sounded...a little uncomfortable.

  “I’m not sure I’m made up for Nashville or singing. This break...” She paused, took a deep breath. “I’m considering making it permanent.”

  Collin looked at her, trying to read her expression in the gloomy afternoon light. He couldn’t tell if she meant it or not, and it annoyed the hell out of him. Almost as much as it annoyed the hell out of him that his heart did that pitter-pat thing women talked about in those silly romantic comedies he watched with Gran and Amanda.

  His heart shouldn’t be missing beats because of Savannah Walters. He wasn’t even sure if there was anything between them except two of the hottest sessions of sex he’d had in his twenty-eight years.

  “Come on, you sparkled on stage.” It was Savannah’s turn to shoot him what he imagined was an incredulous look. “We watched at the Slope. Merle had that reality show blasting every time it came on. He offered free drinks to everyone who dialed in your contestant number, and he checked to make sure they called the right one.”

  A slow smile spread over Savannah’s face. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Every night you were on, the bar was packed. Levi figures if we’d moved a few thousand more people to town, we could’ve gotten you through to the final round.”

  They just made it into town as a few fat drops of rain splattered the ground. The wind picked up, and Collin flicked on the windshield wipers.

  “Thank you.”

  “You did the hard work. Your voice was...angelic,” he said, and she laid her head against his shoulder for a brief moment.

  “Thank you for that, too. I do like singing, just not the stuff that comes along with singing in a thousand-watt spotlight. Legitimate reporters and gossip blogs and people willing to sell anything about you to the press.”

  “What do you have to hide? No one gets up to anything truly bad in Slippery Rock.” Not even his sister, he was beginning to realize. Taping off streets was a bit extreme, but if that was the worst she got up to, it really wasn’t that bad. Not compared to the kids who’d started the fire with their prank or whoever had taken to painting graffiti on the downtown sidewalks.