"So, where are you planting?"
"Are the questions part of the service?" When I raise my eyebrows, his face flushes even darker.
"He's just being friendly," a voice pipes up from behind me. A voice I know all too well.
Turning, I come face to face with Amber, who looks as though she's going out on a date at the beach, not shopping for cleaning products in a hardware store.
"Amber." I nod curtly, and she beams a bright and toothy smile.
"Those Bradfords keeping you busy?" Her gaze falls to my hand that is clutching five packets of seeds.
"Bradfords?" Rob stutters. "You're working for them now?"
"She's the housemaid," Amber says brightly, "And who knows what other services they expect?"
Rob inhales sharply, and my whole body stills. Who would have thought it would be possible to smile at someone while being so vile at the same time.
"Are you implying that I'm a whore?"
Amber laughs, pushing her blonde curls over her shoulder. "I'm not implying anything about you, sweetie. It's just those men will have needs, won't they? And I know for a fact they aren't working them out anywhere in town."
"Maybe they're working them out by themselves," I mutter. "Most men do."
Rob turns the color of a sun-ripened tomato.
"Now, that would be a waste." Amber adjusts her purse, scanning me with critical eyes and apparently finding my casual clothes and messy hair to be much to her disapproval. She's probably thinking that the Bradfords would have to be desperate to turn to someone like me in their time of sexual need, particularly when there is someone like her available. "Maybe I should come up to visit you soon. Maybe one evening."
"It's not my house," I say. "I can't invite people to my place of work."
"The Bradfords don't look very friendly," Rob pipes up. "I'm sure you could find somewhere else to work. Pecans Coffee Shop is looking for a waitress."
"Melanie doesn't have waitressing experience," Amber says with a roll of her eyes.
"I'm sure she'd get it with a bit of experience," Rob says kindly, but it prickles at my skin because it sounds so condescending. I don't really know these people, and they want to comment on my life.
"Thanks, but I'm happy where I am."
"You should be careful," Rob says, looking around. He leans in closer, the smell of his coffee breath wafting under my nose. "There are people in this town who have it in for the Bradfords."
Is he talking about the Flints? "Who?"
Amber rolls her eyes. "There are men in this town who like to talk a lot but don't really have any intention of doing anything."
"I don't know anything, exactly," Rob says, glancing to the left. "But you should just be careful not to associate with the Bradfords too closely. Their reputations could rub off on you."
Reputations? Now I'm pissed.
"What reputations? Being good businessmen? Not being philanderers who are always sniffing around for town skirt? Taking care of their family? What?"
"Taking advantage of people's bad luck," Rob says. "Like you, for example."
"If it wasn't them, it would have been someone else. I can't hate them for being in a position to buy my farm, and neither should anybody else."
"Melanie, there will always be people who are hateful. Rob is only trying to look out for you, which is sweet, isn't it? I think he might have a crush on you." Giggling innocently, Amber brings her hand to her mouth to cover her lips as Rob's face goes the color of the beet on the packet of seeds I'm holding.
"Rob is more likely to have a crush on you, Amber," I say. Grabbing a few more packets of seeds at random, I begin to walk away. "It was nice talking to you," I say flatly. Interfering busybodies that want to tell me how to live my life, and they don't even know half of it.
If they knew what I did last night, would they say the same thing? Stay away from the dangerous Bradfords. They take advantage of whoever crosses their path.
As I'm paying, I fumble with the money Cash left me, my fingers feeling trembly. Amber and Rob don't know anything about the Bradfords really. It's all gossip and supposition.
And I know, don't I?
I know they're good men.
They treat me well.
They give me everything I need.
But who can really know for sure what is in another person's mind and heart?
At lunch, I don't tell them about the speculation about them in town. I don't reveal the warnings I've been given about them. I spend the afternoon trying to keep my mind off the negative thoughts that Rob and Amber have somehow planted in my head instead of planting tiny seeds that will bloom into something useful instead.
And when the Bradfords return, there's something different about them all.
They're quiet at dinner, and I catch them looking at each other as though there is something they want to say and are waiting for the right time. Or maybe they're waiting for someone to have the courage. My stew is delicious, but I don't relish it because my heart is beating too fast, and my eyes are moving between them, half-listening to the conversation they are having while trying to determine something about the other conversation that's going on silently.