Free Ana of California by Andi Teran Page A

gave her a wan smile.
    â€œListen, I’m taking Ana on deliveries this afternoon. I want to introduce her to Rye Moon.”
    â€œWhat’s the point?” Emmett said, grabbing another cookie.
    â€œI think it’s important she meet girls her age.”
    â€œMm-hm.”
    â€œThis town is minuscule, Emmett, and people are naturally curious. It’s best if we keep from hiding her right from the start.”
    â€œWhy do you care what other people think? She’s our summer intern, and she’s staying only a month.”
    â€œHonestly.” Abbie sighed. “It’s her first day. Let’s give her a chance, shall we?”
    Emmett looked out the window and across the fields. He watched as Ana seemed to struggle with a carrot that wasn’t yet ready to be picked.
    â€œIf this morning’s any indication, I’d keep her for less than a week.”
    â€œI’m taking her to meet Rye, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
    â€œOkay. But, I’ll warn ya. You’ve never experienced that girl in a moving vehicle.”
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    A na didn’t have time to change. Her faded jeans were covered in dirt and sagging in the knees. She had one of Abbie’s stained work shirts unbuttoned over her favorite band tee. The thought of meeting someone her age, especially a girl, twisted her stomach into a nauseated loop.
    Ana dropped the box of produce on the front porch as Abbie had asked and made her way past Abbie’s lopsided van. GARBER FARM ORGANIC PR ODUCE was splashed across the side of it in fading letters. She continued down the pebble pathway to the potting shed on the other side of the house just beyond the garden. The tin-roofed shed was tiny, and covered in flowering vines. The Dutch door’s top half was open, framing Abbie as she worked. There was a stained glass window above the entrance, unusual and charming, adorned with a blackbird surrounded by olive leaves.
    â€œSo, now that we have a moment, how did the morning go?” Abbie asked.
    â€œIt’s debatable,” Ana said. “According to Manny, I didjust fine. According to Emmett, I need a bachelor’s degree in farmer’s science, if that exists.”
    â€œIt’ll get easier,” she said.
    â€œShould I change clothes?”
    â€œYou’re fine the way you are.”
    â€œI’m filthy.”
    â€œWe’re farmers, it’s part of the look,” Abbie said, tying bundles of cornflowers with twine. “Let me see your hat.”
    Ana took off the gardening hat, worried Abbie would notice the stained ring of sweat that had accumulated under the brim.
    â€œApologies. My hair is an aberration,” Ana said.
    â€œNonsense,” Abbie said. “But bonus points for word choice.” She snipped a few of the flowers and tucked them under the band around the brim, making them shoot out of the side of the hat like a miniature fireworks display. “My mother used to call this ‘pizzazz,’” she said, handing the hat back. “Draws attention to the eyes, and yours are lovely.”
    Ana put the hat on and swept her hair behind her shoulders. It wasn’t really the look she’d normally go for, not that she’d ever been able to cultivate the look she liked, but she felt slightly better.
    â€œVery ‘of the land,’” Abbie continued. “Which is to say, just like the rest of us country folk. Trust me, no one in this town is judging.”
    They made their way to the van and added to the already ample load in the back, which included boxes of jars and bottles, wildflower arrangements, and a few loaves of fresh bread in paper bags stamped GARBER FARM . Ana climbed into the front seat, which was strewn with various odds and ends that included a potato sack, a magazine with thefront cover torn off, a to-go coffee mug in one cup holder, a gardening tool sticking out of the other cup