Strawberry Wine
A first taste of love
Hannah wandered down the path toward the river, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket, a chill September wind lifting her hair. Her boots found their own way, kicking fallen leaves before her as her mind drifted back to that last summer here.
The hot July sun enveloped Hannah, clinging to her bare head and shoulders as she left the cool of the barn behind. Pamela looked up from plucking a wild daisy beside the corral and grinned, her honey coloured hair shining where it peeked out of the edges of her wide-brimmed hat. Shaking her head, Pamela reached over Hannah’s shoulder, lifted the hat that hung around her neck on a cord, and plopped it on Hannah’s red curls. “You’re going to get heat stroke if you keep forgetting to put your hat on.”
Grimacing, Hannah reached up to straighten her hat. “It makes my head sweat,” she grumbled. “And when I take it off, my hair looks like hay the horses have been slobbering on.”
Pamela laughed, a bright and joyful sound that made Hannah’s heart race. “Your hair is beautiful, silly. Come on, I packed a lunch for us.” She lifted a picnic basket in one hand, then grabbed Hannah’s hand with the other and led her toward the path along the river.
Hannah’s face burned at the compliment as she followed Pamela down the well-beaten path. She…
