Walker drove the truck onto Main Street and pulled round behind the courthouse to the parking lot where the market was set up. He parked in their normal spot, backing the truck in. Walker grabbed the canopy tent first, unzipping the canvas around it and starting to stretch the legs out.

The booth next to theirs was usually Mrs. Bowers and her baked goods, but she told him last Saturday that she was traveling this week and wouldn’t make it. He wondered who would take her spot. No one was set up there yet, so he focused on getting his canopy up and the tables out. He was just starting to unload the trailer when an old truck pulled up next to his. He heard the driver’s door slam and glanced up. His heart stopped for a second, and he looked around to see if his brother was nearby somewhere laughing at him. But no, it wasn’t Byron’s doing, she was here to sell.

Annabelle Cooper let down the tailgate and pulled her own canopy out of the back, struggling with it a bit. She was as tall, thin, blonde, and beautiful as he remembered, dressed in an orange sundress with flowers and dark leather boots. All of a sudden, he felt nervous, like he was somewhere he shouldn’t be, doing something he shouldn’t be doing. He took a deep breath to steady himself and let it out, setting the crate of produce on the table that lined the back of his booth. He went to get one of the large coolers, feeling a little self-conscious. Annabelle was struggling with the canopy, trying to get all four corners stretched out on her own. He set the cooler down on one of his tables, deciding that the only decent thing to do was to help her.

Walker approached and folded his arms against his chest. “You needin’ help with that, ma’am?”

Annabelle sighed, sounding frustrated. “Yes, please,” she said and moved around the canopy so he was in view. She stopped then and just stared at him, looking a bit shocked.

He came round her pop-up and took the leg opposite the one she was standing next to. “You grab that side ‘n pull it taught,” he instructed and motioned toward it. They both pulled on a support leg and the canopy straightened out, so all four sides were evenly spaced. Walker started extending his side of the legs and she did the other side. He checked all the supports to make sure they were straight and then fixed the canopy’s canvas covering so their logo was visible.

“That oughta do it,” Walker said and nodded at her. He turned back toward his truck to grab another couple crates of whatever his momma had set out for them to sell. Once he unloaded what he needed to set up the booth, he shut the trailer. Then he lit up a cigarette and got to work getting things in order. He smoothed the banner fastened to the back of the tent with the farm’s logo, a road split by evergreen trees leading toward a mountain, with the words “Wilderness Road Farm and Ranch. Established 1866,” printed below it. The logo was something he came up with a few years back when he first returned from college. They didn’t use it much, but he was thinking about getting it printed on shirts and hats for them to wear in town. He set out a sign with prices for the beef, produce, jams, sauces, and chicken eggs. Then he grabbed the thermos of coffee and the folding chair from the truck. He set the chair up behind the tables of the booth and sat down to watch the market come to life.

The small market buzzed with people setting up their booths, most of whom he knew by name. Often, he would walk and greet people he hadn’t seen in a while, but Walker preferred to keep to himself today. He was already missing Mrs. Bowers’ baked goods. She usually gave him a mini loaf of banana bread for him to snack on, and he traded a jar of jelly for it.

Instead, there was Annabelle, setting out her family’s honey and other products they made from beeswax, including lotions, candles, lip balms, soaps, and whatever else they came up with. The market wasn’t set to open for another twenty minutes or so, but Walker was feeling antsy, like he was ready to pack up and head out, without one sale made.

Annabelle finished setting up her booth and stepped back a ways to admire it. She put her hands on her hips and looked in thought. She adjusted a couple of things, moving a sign here and there, arranging the soaps just so, until she was satisfied with it. Then she looked right at him and approached his booth, her eyebrows raised.

“Hey, Joey,” she called as she walked over to him. “Since when’ve y’all been sellin’ sauces? That your momma’s doin’?”

Walker cleared his throat and nodded. “Yep, it keeps her busy.”

Annabelle motioned to her canopy. “Thanks for the help. Not sure I coulda done it myself.”

“Just being polite, ma’am,” he replied and touched the brim of his hat.

She smiled and folded her arms against her chest. “Is that all I am? Ma’am?”

Walker shifted in his seat, feeling a little uncomfortable. “Missus?” he asked, unsure.

Annabelle laughed warmly. “Oh, come on, Joey. Don’t act like you don’t know me.”

“Well, I kinda don’t,” he replied, frowning. “Last I heard you got married and moved to Carolina and now I see you’re back in town. Don’t know what to call you.”

“How ‘bout Annabelle?” she suggested with a patient smile. “How’re things on the farm?”

“Fine, just fine. How’s your daddy’s bee farm doin’?”

“They’re doin’ well. Sandy called earlier this week and asked if we’d take the booth and I got stuck doin’ it.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s what I get for movin’ away and comin’ back, I guess.”

He nodded. Walker knew what it was like to move back and have to prove yourself all over again.

Annabelle stepped closer to him and folded her arms against her chest. She looked off at another booth across the way, seeming to consider something. Then she bit her lip and met his eyes. “Walker, I dunno if you heard, but Bradley ‘n I are gettin’ divorced. Things didn’t work out so well.”

Walker grunted softly. “I’m sorry to hear that, Anna. You stayin’ with your folks?”

“Yep.” She sighed tiredly. “Daddy’s havin’ me work on some new products to sell. Figure it’ll keep me busy for a while.”

He nodded. “Welcome back to Jonesborough, Annabelle.”

She turned and looked at the booths set up around them. “It’s strange. I never thought I’d move back here.”

Walker wasn’t sure what to say to that, really what to say to her at all. They were serious once, many years before, but he didn’t know much about her now. They dated in high school, and many had expected them to get married after graduation, but he went away to school in Knoxville and things fizzled out between them. She stayed in Jonesborough to work on her art and the cosmetics she made from the beeswax left over from her daddy’s bee farm. He wasn’t even sure which of them had broken it off, probably her, but the last he heard from Byron, she married some doctor in Mount Pleasant. How that happened, he had no idea. But it wasn’t any of his business anyway. He felt nervous, like maybe he should say something, and cleared his throat again.

“Well, it’s nice to see you, Annabelle.”

She met his eyes. “It’s great to see you too, Joey.” Annabelle motioned toward him. “I see not much has changed. Did you go and get married yet?”

Walker frowned and shook his head. “No, ma’am. Just me and the dog.”

Annabelle lowered her voice and raised her eyebrows. “You wanna get a drink sometime? Would be awfully nice to catch up.”

He hesitated, looking down at the box of cigarettes in his hand and pulling one out. There was an unsettled feeling in his heart. Was he even ready to open that door with her? She was in the process of a divorce, and he wasn’t too keen on getting in the middle of all that. And anyway, it wasn’t fair to lead her on, letting her think his heart was available, when he was still thinking about the girl he met in Florida. Rejected or not, she still had a hold on him.

Walker met her eyes. “Might be better if we don’t. I got some…things I’m workin’ through at the moment.”

Annabelle smiled prettily. “It’s just a drink. Ain’t no harm in catching up. It’s not a date, just two friends gettin’ together. What d’you think?”

Was there such a thing as a man and a woman being friends after they were intimate with one another? Walker didn’t think so. But maybe she was right, one drink couldn’t hurt. What did he have to lose? It was four weeks since his trip to Florida and the communication with Evelyn hadn’t thawed one bit. Was he supposed to put his life on hold for a woman who didn’t even want him?

Walker was getting awful tired of being the odd man out when his brother and most of his friends had gone and got married already or were working on their second or third kid. He felt like he was waiting on God’s timing and hadn’t seen any movement. He was tired of waiting, of living in that house alone, wishing there was someone to bring joy and laughter and warmth into his quiet home. He thought maybe it was time to try something different, even if Annabelle’s situation was less than ideal.

Walker lifted his hat and rubbed a hand through his hair. “Well, what ‘bout tonight?”

“Sure, I’m free. You wanna meet at your house? I’ll bring some beers.”

He shook his head. “No, no, let’s meet out somewhere. What ‘bout Jimmy’s?”

Annabelle smiled knowingly at him and took a step toward her booth. “Wanna plan for eight?”

“Mhmm,” he replied, looking down at his boots.

“It’s a date!” she called over her shoulder, her orange dress swinging as she walked back to her booth.

Walker sighed heavily, wondering if he had made a mistake, and pulled his hat down low. The market was small enough that Annabelle would have been able to corner him no matter where her tent was set up, but it felt rather convenient that she was right next to him. It wasn’t too much to put together that he was working it this morning, or even that he would show up to help at some point. Had Annabelle prettied herself up in a sundress and leather boots to show him what he was missing out on?

When he moved back after school six years ago, she was already dating the doctor from South Carolina. They hadn’t had a chance to catch up before she got married and moved away. This might’ve been the first conversation he had with Annabelle in almost ten years. He felt a pit start churning in his stomach and sighed tiredly. Walker glanced over at where Annabelle was standing, talking to the person in the booth on the other side of her. He sipped his coffee from the thermos. It was going to be a long day.