Watermelon Cowboy by Lyn Cote-Part 2

The first part of this story was posted on Friday July 2nd-

“The county’s Sweet Corn Festival was the last big summer celebration. Sarah just wasn’t in the mood for festivities, but Grandma wouldn’t dream of missing the fair. In the evening breeze, Sarah walked slowly beside her grandmother who leaned on her cane. Grandma struggled over the uneven grass to the shady area where the older generation sat on lawn chairs and fanned themselves. Grandmother was greeted cheerfully. With Danny beside her, Sarah snapped open a lawn chair and helped her grandmother settle into it.

“Mom! It’s the Watermelon Cowboy!” Danny waved. “Hi!”

“Hello.” Tate greeted Danny, then the assembled grandparents.

Sarah noted their warm response to Tate. Obviously, he was a favorite with them.

“Thanks for helping my granddaughter pick out that corn and those melons.” Martha held onto his hand. “Nobody can out-do Quint melons.”

“They were great!” Danny bounced up and down.

Tate offered Danny his hand. Danny took it, but didn’t let go. Tate grinned down at the boy. “In the mood to eat some more?”

“No, I want cotton candy!”

Tate chuckled along with the grandparents. “Well, Sarah Jane, I guess we better get this boy some cotton candy.”

“That’s all right,” Sarah stammered. “You don’t need to bother.”

“No, bother.” He began walking away. Since Danny still happily gripped Tate’s big hand, Sarah hurried to keep up.

Soon Danny was pulling at a pink wand of cotton candy. Tate lounged beside her. Sarah decided to speak to Tate now. Danny, busy watching the nearby musical merry-go-round, wouldn’t overhear them.

She might make a fool of herself, but she didn’t want to mislead Tate. She’d been burned too bad…. “Tate, this has nothing to do with you, but I’m not looking for….” She couldn’t think of how to say she wasn’t interested in romance or more importantly, didn’t want people to presume she might be interested in Tate.

“I heard,” Tate said softly, “that your marriage didn’t turn out the way you wanted.”

She frowned. “I’d hoped to avoid small-town gossip.”

“This isn’t gossip, just sharing.”

Feeling hurt, she folded her arms in front of her. “How would you like it if people were talking about you?”

“If the people talking are just concerned, what’s wrong with that?”

She looked up into his eyes.

Tate gazed at her searchingly. “Why did you come to my stand to buy your corn and melons?”

“What?”

“You came to my produce stand because everyone knows Quints only sell the best. If people didn’t talk to each other, how would everyone know that?”

She shrugged. “I suppose they just have to find out for themselves.”

He smiled sadly. “Finding things out by yourself can be the hardest way to learn something .”

The truth of what he said made her wince. She’d found out the hard way about her husband. Maybe if she’d met him here, where people had shared about him, she might have saved herself all the pain. Embarrassed, she avoided Tate’s gaze.

Danny took Tate’s hand and looked up. “They’re dancing! My mom likes to dance!”

“Does she?”

Before she could protest, she found herself in Tate’s arms dancing to the “Tennessee Waltz” on the fair’s nearby open-air, dance floor. She felt breathless, held so close against him. Finally she murmured, “So the Quints have the best melons? What would people share about the Quints themselves?”

“I think you already know the answer to that.”

Sarah didn’t know how to reply. “Oh?” was all she could manage.

“Quints aren’t afraid to ‘plug’ our melons. We are honest….” Tate’s face crinkled into a killer smile. “About melons and everything else.”

The way he said the words made her blush like a teen-aged girl.

They danced over to where Danny watched. “A bunch of us always go to the fall rodeo up in Fort Madison. Maybe Danny and you would like to go along?” She read honest interest in Tate’s eyes.

Something hard and hurting deep inside Sarah suddenly relaxed. She was among friends now.

“A rodeo!” Danny whooped, “Wow!”

Sarah gazed into Tate’s clear, direct eyes. “Is it a genuine rodeo?”

He brushed back her bangs. “Why, ma’am, even a Watermelon Cowboy knows the real thing when he sees it.”

Hope you all enjoyed this summer read. Invite your friends to drop by and read it. Can anyone guess what my favorite food is? GRIN

2010 Copyright Lyn Cote