“I’ll do it for free.” His eyes widened at that. She had his interest, so she rushed on. “In exchange for you cleaning up the corn maze and allowing us to use it.” He started to shake his head, but she couldn’t give up now. She was too close to victory—she could sense it. “Just for this year! We’ll find another farm, but it’s too late now.” His mouth opened, but she didn’t give him a chance to speak. “I know you don’t care about the festival, or me, but think of the business owners and vineyards that would be impacted. Isn’t your brother a winemaker?”

She knew he was—Luke Rutledge ran the Falls Legend Winery. He’d married the owner’s niece, Whitney, and they were now raising their family on the award-winning vineyard. She had no idea how close the brothers were, though.

The whole Rutledge family was a lesson in dysfunction, thanks to their parents. Their father had died in prison and their mother had died from alcoholism years ago. The four children had been dirt-poor and teased for it in school. Her face heated. No one had any idea back then that she and Zayne had been friends. He and she would meet at the old willow tree halfway between their homes and talk for hours. But in their senior year, she’d been one of the kids laughing—or at least standing by and watching. It was clear that he hadn’t forgotten.

“Zayne, I know how much I hurt you back in our senior year. Let me make it up to you.”

He chuckled, but there wasn’t much humor in it. “The past can’t be changed. Don’t make this about that. You just want your damn maze.”

“Okay. I’ll make up for my bad behavior some other way. This is about the maze.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, sensing victory. “I’ll barter the new bookkeeping system for the use of the maze.”

He didn’t turn her down, but he didn’t look excited, either.

“Spreadsheets and fancy software programs are just gibberish to me.” His voice hardened. “And I’m not ready to promise anything yet. I’ll consider the maze.”

“I’m not an idiot, Zayne. I’m not going to do all this work without some kind of agreement on the maze.”

“I’m not an idiot, either. How do I know you have the skills to even do all the stuff you’ve promised? You’re desperate enough to tell me anything, and the Andrea Wentworth I knew couldn’t be trust—” He glanced at Hudson, who was now following the conversation with interest. Zayne coughed. “Well, you know what I’m saying.”