Rather than return to the road, we both feel the cart sink lower in place.

“It’s fine,” Alden says again. “I’ll get my dad. He’ll know what to do.”

With that, he’s off, running back up the driveway toward the house. I let out a resigned sigh and lean back against the seat, staring out at the sea of waving golden stalks in front of me.

“How did you even manage to do this?”

I turn to see Jace walking toward me, shaking his head in disbelief. I sigh. “No idea.”

“It’s a smooth, even, dry patch of dirt. You found some way to get stuck?”

I scoff in response. “I’m not exactly used to driving in these conditions.”

“Open road, no other drivers, no rules of the road? Yeah, I can see how that could be a challenge.”

“Are you going to help me or not?”

Jace grins. “My dad’s bringing the tractor.”

Sure enough, the massive tractor I spent a couple hours riding on earlier appears around the corner. Mr. Dawson is sitting in the seat, and Alden is perched next to him. The tractor stops a few feet away from us.

“Someone call for a tow?” Mr. Dawson asks, grinning.

“I’m so sorry,” I tell him. “I honestly have no idea how this happened.”

Mr. Dawson laughs. “Don’t worry about it. Jace, you ready?”

Jace attaches a couple of chains from the back of the cart to the tractor. “All set.”

The tractor begins to move again, this time taking the small cart with it. Once the cart’s wheels are all back on the road, Mr. Dawson backs the tractor up slightly so Jace can undo the chains.

“See you two back at the house,” he calls before he and Alden disappear from sight.

I slide over to the passenger side of the cart, and Jace gets in beside me. We sit there for a moment, and then he starts laughing. Loudly.

“What?” I ask, looking over at him. “Is this still about the cart?”

“It’s about you. You always manage to do what I least expect.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not to me. For all the vehicles on this farm, maybe.”

I can’t help the small smile that forms in response before Jace drives us back to the house.

We all sit down to dinner a few hours later. Mrs. Dawson serves a large platter of roast chicken and vegetables along with a fresh green salad, and we dig in eagerly.

“Do you remember the Williams’ oldest son?” she asks Jace as she joins the rest of us at the table.

“Yeah, Charlie, right?” Jace replies. “He was one year ahead of me.”

“Yup,” Mrs. Dawson confirms. “He’s getting married this Saturday.”

“Married?” Jace echoes in surprise. “Seriously?”

“Your mother and I were two years younger than that when we got married,” Mr. Dawson says. “It worked out pretty well for us.” He gives his wife a loving look, and I smile.