Chapter 23

Maybe it’s the wine, which is rich and heady, but before we even get to the peach cobbler at the bottom of the picnic basket, I’m half in love with Lucy.

“Nat, tell me something,” she says, pointing her fork at me—she uses the fork for the potato salad and the cobbler, but nothing else.

At this moment, I’ll tell her anything she wants to hear, anything at all. “Hmm?”

She leans closer and pokes my arm gently with her sticky fork. “Why aren’t you married yet?”

I stare down at the plate in my lap and try to think of something to say. Nothing comes to mind.

“You’re attractive,” she continues, poking me with her fork after each point. “You have a steady job. You have money—”

“Not much,” I admit.

“You must have something,” she says. “Even if it’s just what you save working for Boss Daddy. You don’t bunk down at the ranch, so you can afford your own place, and that means something to a girl like me. Daddy wants me to marry, but all the men I’ve ever met don’t want me. They want him.”