Free Cream of the Crop by Alice Clayton Page A

an easy look about him. There was a warmth in his smile that I hadn’t seen before. Most of the city had been worn off, revealing a kindness, a quick laugh. It was easy to see that these two females hung the moon for him, and this guy loved his life.
    â€œI’ve heard a lot about you,” he said, grinning as he shook my hand.
    â€œLikewise.” I grinned back, tugging on his hand until I got close enough to hug him. “You’ve been putting it to my best friend for months now, so you’re required to hug me.” Surprised but willing, he hugged me back, wrapping his strong arms around me.
    â€œWatch it, that’s my guy,” Roxie warned from the corner.
    â€œNice,” I replied, slipping out of the hug but still keeping hands-on. I squeezed his biceps a bit. “Very nice.” Leo’s eyestwinkled down at me, and I just shook my head. “You’re lucky I didn’t meet you first.”
    â€œSeriously, still in the room,” Roxie repeated, and I finally released Leo. “And this munchkin is Polly.”
    I stuck out my hand for Polly to shake. “As in Pollyanna?”
    â€œWell, I wasn’t named after a polynomial,” the kid said, her eyes as green as Leo’s but much more appraising.
    I laughed. “It’s nice to meet you, Not a Polynomial.”
    Polly grinned up at me. “Smells good in here, what’s for dinner?”
    â€œPolly, we just got here. Maybe ask Roxie if she needs any help?” Leo said, ruffling up her hair. “It does smell really good.”
    â€œDo you need any help, and what’s for dinner?” Polly asked, and I retreated to my kitchen stool, hands raised, knowing full well that the person who was actually in charge had just arrived. I was just hoping she’d let me have some of her spaghetti and meatballs . . .

    â€œSo you’re here to figure out how to get more people to Bailey Falls, right?” Leo asked, buttering a piece of bread for Polly and putting it on the side of her plate. She was trying to twirl her pasta on a spoon, just like Roxie. Her little tongue poked out of the side of her mouth while she concentrated.
    â€œKind of. I’m here to get the lay of the land, so to speak. My firm got an email from Chad Bowman—you know him?” I forked up my own bite of pasta, and my goodness was it good. My girl could cook .
    â€œI do. He and his husband are members of the farmshare program we offer to locals; they’re great guys.” Leo smothered a laugh when Polly’s spoonful nearly went flying. “Want me to cut it up for you, make it easier to get on the fork?”
    â€œRoxie says to never cut pasta,” Polly said with a serious look on her face. “It disrupts the integrity of the noodle.”
    â€œThat seems like exactly something she would say,” I agreed. Roxie was coughing into her napkin in a very timely fashion. “So tell me about the farmshare program.”
    As Leo talked, I began to get a better sense of what he’d created over at Maxwell Farms. The more I heard about it, the more eager I was to see it. “This seems exactly the kind of thing that could make this town even more inviting. Norman Rockwell charm meets local sustainable agriculture, which everyone is interested in now. You give tours at the farm, right?”
    â€œEvery day,” Leo said, “Two on Saturdays.”
    â€œPerfect. Can I come by tomorrow?”
    â€œYou got it. We’re moving some of the animals tomorrow for rotational pasture grazing, so it’s a good day to come by. Lots of activity,” he answered.
    Roxie turned from helping Polly with twirling her pasta. “Moving any dairy cows tomorrow?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant but failing. I looked hard at her, but she seemed very interested suddenly in a loose string on the end of Leo’s T-shirt.
    â€œYep, we’re moving them up onto the east pasture.