The First One

The First One Chapter Two

Ali

WHEN I WAS A little girl, bored was a bad word in our family. If I ever dared to claim I had nothing to do, better believe my mother or my grandma found something for me, and it was never anything fun. I learned fast to occupy myself or suffer the consequences, usually in form of weeding a garden, shelling peas, peeling potatoes or putting labels on the jars of jam Grandma made.

Bored was not something I remembered being in the last decade or so. Having an eight-year old daughter, helping my brother run our family farm and the adjoining roadside produce stand . . . yeah, I was usually tired, overwhelmed, maybe anxious, but never bored.

At the moment, though, I was dangerously close.

We kept our farm stand, The Colonel's Last Stand—named for our several-times over great grandfather, Colonel Pierce Reynolds—open all year around, though we opened later and closed earlier in the winter. Now it was early spring, and none of our own crops were ready yet. We had some oranges and grapefruit up from Florida, but that wasn't exactly bringing in the crowds of shoppers. Business would begin picking up in another month, but for now, I had time to kill in the long gaps between customers.

This was new. Usually, I had my daughter Bridget hanging out with me at the stand, but she was spending this weekend at her best friend Katie's sleepover. I missed her happy chatter and smiling face. I'd already re-organized our shelves of non-perishables, dusted the tables, tidied up the cashier area . . . I sighed and wondered if I could justify closing up an hour early and heading home. My brother was more than likely out in the fields, and I might end up with the whole house to myself. The image of a frothy bubble bath popped into my mind, and I smiled. How long had it been since I'd had time for that? I couldn't even remember.

I'd just about talked myself into shutting down when I heard the familiar crunch of car tires on our gravel parking area. Stifling a groan—and watching my luxurious bath float away on one those shiny bubbles—I pasted a smile on my face and leaned out to see who'd stopped by.

My smile turned genuine when I recognized the sleek black Porsche. "Alex!" I darted out to meet him halfway across the small lot. "What're you doing here?"

His dark blond hair was perfectly styled, and his pale blue eyes twinkled at me. "Well, I just thought I'd stop at the best stand in Georgia and see what goodies you might have for me today. Plus get a hug from my best friend. What's doing, chick?"

I wrapped my arms around his neck, closing my eyes and breathing in his scent. "You always smell so expensive, Alex."

He laughed. "Darling girl, I am expensive." He tweaked my nose. "And you are adorable. Look at you, still rocking the pigtails."

I stuck out my tongue. "Did you come all the way from Atlanta just to make fun of me?"

"No, actually. I have some business in Savannah on Monday, and I thought I'd spend the weekend here with the folks before I go. I'm on my way to the farm now."

I tilted my head up at him, my eyes narrowing. "You've been spending an awful lot of time in Savannah in the last year. Something going on you want to share with the class?"