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Though the wind was strong that evening, and the fallen autumn leaves kept whipping across her cold-bitten cheeks, nothing could stop little Penelope Featherington from smiling as she followed her family through the entrance of Bridgerton Farm’s Pumpkin Patch. Autumn had always been her favorite season, with the smell of apple cider and cinnamon in the air, the leaves crunching beneath her feet as she walked, and her favorite part of all—the pumpkins.
Penelope remembered being three years old when she was first given a pumpkin. She and her elder sisters had been visiting her grandfather’s house, watching It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown—something they always did the weekend before Halloween—when her grandfather surprised her by plopping the biggest, orangest pumpkin she’d ever seen into her lap. It was even bigger than Phillipa and Prudence’s, much to their dismay and protests, and she had cherished that pumpkin until it finally rotted. The next year, her grandfather gifted her another one, stating that Penelope was “the prettiest pumpkin in the patch” as he handed it to her. The tradition probably would’ve continued on the year after that had her mother not decided to move to a new town hours away. As she twirled around in her yellow sweater and boots, curls falling out of the two braids she had done by herself earlier after her mother refused to, Penelope smiled at all the pumpkins she saw. Each one a nice reminder of her grandpa, who’d given her some of her best memories.
“You better cut that out, Penelope,” her mother, Portia, snipped at her. “We’re in public. Behave.”
It took everything in Penelope’s little five-year-old body not to roll her eyes. Portia had very few words to say to her youngest daughter, though Penelope had gotten used to it by now. In fact, she even preferred it, because nine times out of ten, when her mother actually did speak to her, it was either to insult her or to ridicule Penelope’s every move. Penelope was happy and wanted to dance through the pumpkin patch, but of course, her mother wouldn’t allow it. Not long ago, Penelope had made the assumption that Portia wanted everyone around her to be just as miserable as she was, and when she voiced that to her grandpa one night, he patted her back with a torn look in his eyes, telling her she was far too smart for her own good.
“Sorry, Mama,” Penelope replied, mentally telling her happy feet to settle. “Just happy to see all the pumpkins.”
“You are so weird,” Prudence muttered from beside Portia.
“Yeah,” Phillipa butted in. “Every fall you go boo-boo bananas for the pumpkins. It’s just an orange vegetable that sits there.”
“It’s a fruit, actually.”
Phillipa rolled her eyes and sneered down at Penelope. “I don’t care what it is. It’s lame.”
“If it’s so lame, why did you come with us to a pumpkin patch? Mama said you could’ve stayed home,” Penelope snapped, irritation bubbling under her skin.
“Oh, because I wanted to make sure I got the biggest pumpkin here. Grandpa’s not around to pity you anymore, and I can’t wait to see your face when I’m the one taking it home.”
Stomping her foot in anger, Penelope was about to scream something back at her sister, but Portia cupped a hand over her mouth with a glare.
“You two better knock it off. We are here to mingle and get acquainted with some of the town folk, not to yell about pumpkins, of all things. Quit causing a scene.”
“But…I want a big pumpkin, Mama. Please,” Penelope begged. The whole reason she was happy to come here was because she thought they’d be buying pumpkins. It was fall, for Christ's sake, and they were at a literal pumpkin patch—it wouldn’t kill her mother to buy them a few pumpkins.
“I said no, Penelope. Do not ask me again.”
Penelope nodded in defeat, ignoring the malicious smirk her sister was shooting over Portia’s shoulder, instead turning her attention to the red barn close by. There was a sign at the top that said Petting Zoo. Not wanting to be anywhere near her family any longer, Penelope asked her mother if she could go look at the animals. Portia said yes, and Penelope skidded off as quickly as she could, hoping to God neither one of her sisters would follow.
Once she stepped into the barn, the scent of dust, hay, and something damp hit her all at once, and she was met with the sight of goats to her left and chickens to her right. Penelope didn’t know where to start first, slightly afraid of the animals now that she was up close to them.
What if one of the goats bit her?!
Just as she was about to turn back, something rammed into her left leg and she lurched forward, catching herself before she fell completely to the hay-covered ground.
“What the…oh my gosh, are you okay?”
Penelope turned around to face whoever had knocked her over, ready to ask them to please watch where they were going next time, when the words got stuck in her throat. Not only was she face-to-face with the cutest boy with the most striking blue eyes she’d ever seen, but next to him in a red wagon was the biggest, most beautiful pumpkin in the world.
“Woah,” Penelope whispered, looking back and forth between the boy and the pumpkin. He had curly brown hair and a yellow sweater that was similar to the one she had on. Her cheeks pinkened at the realization.
“Are you okay?” he repeated, taking a hesitant step closer to her, concern written all over his face.
Penelope offered him a soft smile and a nod, relieved when his own expression softened in return. Glancing at the pumpkin once more, Penelope couldn’t stop herself from saying, “That’s a big pumpkin.”
The boy chuckled, briefly looking over at it before focusing back on her. “Yeah, I’m pretty proud of this one. Every year my siblings and I have a competition of who can grow the biggest pumpkin in the patch. I’m proud to announce that I won first place this year.”
A giggle fell from her lips and his eyes brightened, his smile widening.
“I’m Colin, by the way. This is my family’s farm.”
Penelope took the hand he held out to her, giving it a firm shake.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Penelope. I just moved into the house down the road.”
Penelope.
It was the loveliest name Colin had ever heard in his entire seven years, to be sure, and he was already fonder of his new friend than he could remember being of anyone else.
Was she his friend? Perhaps it was silly to think of her as one when they had only just met a few moments before, but he couldn’t help it. Colin tended to get along with pretty much everyone, but friends—real friends—were harder for him to come by, never really feeling entirely comfortable around other children.
This was different, though.
Penelope was different, and it filled him with excitement that sent his mind racing until he saw her staring at him and realized he’d probably been silent far longer than was appropriate.
“It’s your first time coming here?” Colin asked, forcing out the only words he could think of—words that he had heard his mother and father utter to guests over and over again when they arrived at the farm. He smiled to himself, hoping he was being polite enough even though he couldn’t manage to stop wiggling, pushing up onto his toes and rocking back to his heels once, twice, a third time while he waited for her answer.
“Yes, my very first time,” she said as she tucked a fiery red ringlet behind her ear. “My mother wanted us to start meeting some people, and she said she heard this was the best place to do that.”
“Oh, it is,” Colin confirmed with a serious nod, his little chest puffing up with pride as he thought about how much the community tended to flock here to gather, and how hard his family had worked to make everything just right. “Not to brag or anything, but our farm is kind of the best.”
Penelope giggled, loudly and sweetly, and he was sure it was his new favorite sound.
“I like your petting zoo very much,” she said, glancing around the old barn that his family had turned into an attraction on their property. “But I’m a little bit afraid of the goats.”
“Who, these guys?” Colin asked, gesturing to the animals that stood not far from them. He couldn’t really imagine being afraid of goats, but he had also grown up around animals and had probably spent more time in this barn than the rest of his siblings combined. Penelope might not have been around animals much—or not these ones, at least. She certainly hadn’t spent hours and hours beside them with a book in her hand the way he did whenever he wanted some peace and quiet. Dropping the handle of the wagon, he walked over to the goat he knew would approach the little girl most gently, pulling a half-eaten apple from his pocket and handing it to her. “They’re friendly, I promise. Do you want to feed him?”
“I don’t know how,” Penelope whispered, though her eyes twinkled up at him. “But I’ll try.”
Holding out the apple, she let out a squeal of delight when the littlest of the goats began to gnaw on it. It did feel funny when they ate from his hand, now that Colin really thought about it. It was something he had just gotten used to over time, but he was now reminded of the feeling all over again, watching Penelope giggle as the piece of fruit quickly disappeared from her palm.
“That’s Colin,” Colin said with a nod toward the hungry little goat, and Penelope stared up at him, her brow furrowed.
“The goat has the same name as you?” she asked, biting back another giggle when he nodded. It had never struck him before just how silly that must sound to others—sharing his name with one of the family goats.
“Yeah, they’re named after me and my big brothers. That one in the back who looks like he’s judging you is Ant, and the one wandering around aimlessly is Ben,” he explained, pointing to the animals he considered some of his closest companions.
“And what about Colin?” Penelope asked. Colin had never really cared much one way or the other about his name, but he sure did love it when she said it.
“Colin just wants to hang out and eat snacks,” he replied, beaming when his new friend threw her head back laughing.
“He seems to love these apples,” she said with a hum, petting the goat now, her fears seemingly subsided.
“They’re very good. I picked it myself,” Colin said slowly as a new idea filled his mind—an idea of how he could make sure she had the best day ever at his family’s farm and let him spend more time with her in the process. “I can show you where to pick them, if you want? We could get you some to take home with you.”
“Really?” she asked, her eyes wide as she tilted her head in question. “You’d get me some of my own?”
“Of course,” Colin promised, going back to his wagon to begin dragging it along, unwilling to trust the animals unsupervised with his most prized possession. He never beat his brothers at anything, and he couldn’t have been happier to finally have grown the biggest pumpkin out of all of them this year.
The downside, of course, was that it was very, very, very heavy.
Colin huffed as he pulled the wagon along behind him, walking far more slowly than he wished to as he led Penelope down the path that led to the apple orchard. He quickly realized that he didn’t much mind it taking longer today, though…not when it meant more time talking to Penelope and hearing all about her mean older sisters and her favorite books to read. Making a mental note for later, he hoped she would be back again sometime so he could lend her one of his own that she might not have read yet, or maybe even come play for the day and read alongside him in the barn, now that she wasn’t so scared of the goats anymore.
“Should we wait a turn for the ladder?” Penelope asked, breaking Colin from his daydreams. He blinked and looked around, realizing they had arrived, but the ladder usually used for apple picking was down the row, being used by some visitors who were picking their own apples to purchase. “Or we could ask someone for help.”
“Nah,” Colin said with a shrug, eyeing the tree and knowing that he would be just fine without anyone getting in the way of his time with his friend. “I’m a really good climber. My mom says I’ve been climbing since before I could even walk.”
“Oh,” she gasped, eyes locked on him as he headed to the tree and kicked his shoes and socks off for a better grip. He scurried up to the best branches, knocking lots of apples to the ground for her. When he thought he had probably picked enough, he leapt down, landing with a thud and promising her he was alright before beginning to gather the fallen fruit.
“I don’t have a basket,” he lamented, dismayed that he hadn’t thought to run and get one from near the entrance before bringing her there. Colin had been so excited to show her the orchard that he hadn’t even thought about it.
“Here,” Penelope offered, holding out her dress by the hem and nodding at the apples in his hands. “Use my skirt as a basket! We can put them here.”
Colin smiled, impressed by her ingenuity, and began to load the little girl up with as many apples as she thought she could reasonably carry. He may have just met her, but he was sure that she deserved as many as he could give her.
She was Penelope, after all.
Penelope couldn’t drop the fond smile from her face as Colin placed the final two apples into her makeshift basket, her heart warming up in a way she hadn’t felt since moving away from her grandfather.
“Alright, let’s go find an actual basket to put those in. I have so much more I want to show you,” Colin announced, stepping over to his wagon. Penelope eyed the giant pumpkin with a hint of envy. She hoped she’d find one just as big before the night was over, wishing her mother would somehow have a change of heart and let her bring it home.
Following her new friend’s lead, they walked up the same path that had just come down, Penelope keeping a firm upward hold on the skirt of her dress so no apples would slip out.
“Good lord, this thing is heavy,” Colin groaned, his face turned down in a grimace as he trudged along with the wagon. Penelope tried not to laugh at his red face, but a giggle slipped out anyway. She would’ve clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound, but that’d mean dropping the apples Colin had so kindly picked for her, and she had no desire to do that.
“You laughing at me, Pen?” Colin asked as he turned back to look at her, humor swimming in eyes.
“Pen?” she questioned with a tilt of her head, something warm spreading in her chest when he gave a confirming nod.
“Yep, that’s my new nickname for my new best friend. Don’t let anyone else call you that,” he replied before continuing back up the trail, acting as if he hadn’t just shaken Penelope’s entire world.
No one had ever given her a nickname before, nor had she ever been considered being someone’s best friend. She was happy that Colin was the first for both. He seemed like the kindest boy—no, person—she’d ever met.
“I won’t,” she finally replied, speeding up until they matched each other’s steps. “You’re my new best friend, too, by the way. And I was laughing at you, sorry.”
Colin cackled, throwing his head back, and Penelope stored that image away in her brain to look back on later when she needed a reason to smile.
“It’s okay, I forgive you. I probably look ridiculous lugging around a ginormous pumpkin.”
Penelope shook her head no immediately. Though his bright red face had made her laugh, she had never once thought that he looked ridiculous. It was cute, more than anything.
“I’d do the same thing if I were you,” Penelope assured him. “A pumpkin like that deserves to be shown off. I wish Mama would let me take one like that home.”
“Hold that thought,” Colin said, coming to a stop. He gave Penelope an apologetic glance. “I’ll be right back.”
She watched as he dropped the handle of the wagon and took off across the field toward an older woman standing a few yards away, talking to none other than Penelope’s mother. He tugged at her pant leg, rocking back and forth on his heels. The woman paused her conversation to give Colin her full attention, and Penelope giggled, watching him flail his arms around animatedly at whatever he was telling her. Her heart sped up when Colin turned to point at her, drawing not only the gaze of the woman he was talking to, but also Portia’s. Penelope’s mother squinted her eyes in scrutiny, probably assuming that Penelope was up to no good, as if she hadn’t been a picture-perfect rule-follower from the minute she was born.
Ignoring whatever judgment her mother was clearly thinking, Penelope refocused on her new best friend and the woman who was presumably his mother, noticing that she had bent down at some point and pulled Colin into a hug. Penelope’s little five-year-old heart grew in size at the sight. She had just met Colin, but already she knew he deserved the nicest things life had to offer. It was as they were pulling out of one another’s embrace that Penelope noticed the basket the woman was carrying in her arms. She passed it to Colin, and Penelope could see the wide, toothy grin he gave her all the way from where she was standing. Colin bolted back to her quicker than anyone she'd ever seen, handing her the basket.
“Here. My mom said we could use her basket to put your apples into.”
Glancing down into the woven carrier, Penelope noticed a few apples already sitting inside.
“Oh, those are ones she picked out earlier. She said you can have those, too, if you’d like,” Colin answered her unasked question. Penelope started dumping her apples on top. “She also said you can pick out whatever pumpkin you want to take home for free, as a welcoming gift.”
Penelope briefly glanced at Colin's pumpkin in the wagon, but reminded herself that it was his—the one he had literally grown himself. Then, she also remembered that her mother had firmly told her she couldn’t have a pumpkin, and she frowned. She didn’t notice Colin looking back and forth between her and his pumpkin questioningly.
“That’s very kind of your mom, but my mama said I can’t have any pumpkins.”
Colin guffawed, arms shooting in the air in exasperation. “She brought you to a pumpkin patch but won’t let you pick out a pumpkin?”
“Yes.”
“Why would she do that?”
“I did tell you my mama and sisters are cruel, didn’t I?” Penelope tried to say it jokingly, but the words broke off in a quiet whisper.
Unexpectedly, Penelope was drawn into Colin’s arms, a warm, comforting feeling settling over her in an instant. She hadn’t even realized she was beginning to grow anxious until he wrapped his arms around her.
“I’m sorry, Pen. That’s really dumb and mean of her,” Colin said softly in her ear. Penelope giggled, nodding into his chest.
“Yeah, it is. But…maybe your mom will be able to convince her to let me take one while they’re talking.”
“That was your mom?” Colin screeched, leaning back from their hug to look at her with widened eyes. Penelope’s own eyes went large at his reaction, then another giggle slipped out. She’d known him a couple of hours and already knew he didn’t really have much of a filter.
“I mean, she seemed…nice,” he said eventually, trying to school his expression into one of indifference while having the decency to look somewhat embarrassed. Penelope saved him from further embarrassment by giving him one more quick hug before stepping back to grab the basket of apples from where she’d set it on the ground.
“Now, even though Mama might not let me have one, I didn’t come all this way not to look at the pumpkins. Lead the way, Colin!” Penelope yelled, puffing out her chest and pointing in a random direction.
Colin chuckled, gripping her forearm in his hand to move it slightly to the left where multiple rows of pumpkins were laid out.
“It’s that way, Pen,” he said, bursting into another fit of laughs.
“Now look who’s laughing at who,” Penelope huffed, though there was no real bite to it. “And I thought we were best friends.”
“We are, Pen. We are.”
Colin was certain he had never had a better day at the farm, or anywhere else for that matter, as he pulled his giant pumpkin in the wagon behind him one more time, leading Penelope toward the pumpkins. Grinning when they arrived, he dropped the handle to the ground and reached for her basket, placing it beside his prized possession before gesturing to the rows in front of them.
“You can have any one you want,” Colin told her, smiling at the way her eyes sparkled in return.
“It’s really nice of your mom to just let me have one,” Penelope said softly, skipping toward the pumpkins and beginning to look around. “It feels like too much of a gift.”
“No, it isn’t too much. They’re our pumpkins, after all,” he answered with a shrug. It was the same logic he had used when he spoke to his mother about it, and it had been astonishingly easy to convince her to let him give one to Pen. “We can do whatever we want with them, and that includes giving them away to our friends.”
“Ohh,” she replied with a nod. “I guess that makes sense.”
Colin smiled to himself, pride filling his chest when he realized that he had come up with an argument she liked. It made him feel smart and helpful, and he really enjoyed making his new best friend happy. He watched as she touched each pumpkin with her fingertips, as though she were testing each one, with more reverence than he’d ever seen before. Having been around them his whole life, he guessed he had gotten used to their charm, even though he loved them very much—it took his breath away just a little to see how glad she was to be in the place where he spent every single day.
“Do you see one you like?” he asked, his smile fading as she chewed on her bottom lip. He hoped it didn’t hurt, tilting his head and watching her find her way to an answer that wasn’t actually an answer at all.
“I like them all, really. I don’t know which one to choose.”
“I never know how to choose anything,” Colin sympathized. It was true; he tended to be overwhelmed by all the possibilities more often than not. “Not at first, anyway. And then I see one that just…tells me it’s the one, and I choose that one and never look back.”
Penelope smiled, glancing toward their wagon before her eyes darted back to the ground.
“It’s just that it might be the only one I ever get to have again,” she explained. “I feel like that’s a big decision.”
“You’ll get one of ours every year from now on,” he promised, crossing his arms in front of his body and raising an eyebrow at her. He did his best to stay serious, even as her cute curls bounced in the wind and made him want to laugh. “You’re my best friend now, and my family owns a pumpkin patch, Pen. You will never be pumpkinless.”
“True,” she conceded, rolling her eyes at him, staring at his pumpkin again for a long moment before looking around the rows. “Okay well…um…”
“What’s your favorite thing about pumpkins?” he asked, wondering if talking about it might help. Shock filled Penelope’s eyes, as though nobody had ever asked her such a thing before. Colin loved asking questions, so he could certainly make it up to her from now on.
“Well, they remind me of being cared about, I guess.”.
“What do you mean?”
“My grandpa always got us pumpkins every year,” she went on, and Colin rocked back and forth on his feet while he listened, sure that this was important to her. “He would get pumpkins for all three of us girls, but he always brought me the biggest one he could find, because it reminded him of our favorite movie-”
“It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown,” Colin interrupted, and her jaw dropped as he put together the pieces of her story on his own.
“How did you know?” she asked, brow furrowed.
“I like it, too,” he said, a big grin splitting his face. “Plus, it’s about a really, really big pumpkin.”
Pen giggled and he beamed, thrilled he could make her happy.
“Yeah,” she confirmed. She had stars in her eyes as she told him the rest; her grandpa must have been pretty special to her. “We lived close to him before we came here, but now we’re hours away and it’s my first fall without him. But I guess it’s just that pumpkins make me think of him, and all our good memories together. My mama thinks they’re silly, but-”
“They’re not silly,” Colin said, reaching for her little hand and giving it a squeeze. “Pumpkins are the best. And reminders of people you love are, too.”
She nodded, wiping a tear from her eyes, and he pulled her into a hug as quickly as he could, hoping it helped and wishing he could do more. Looking over Pen’s shoulder at his wagon, he realized the answer wasn’t any of the pumpkins in the patch at all.
It had been staring at him all along.
“Let’s go,” Colin said, bouncing with excitement as he pulled away from her and ran toward the wagon.
“Oh okay,” she whispered, looking around quickly for a pumpkin. He wished he could tell her his plan now, but he wanted it to be a secret until the last possible moment.
His friend picked up the littlest pumpkin there was, and he giggled to himself, watching her gently bring it over and place it on top of the apples in her basket. They made their way back to the entrance of the farm together, the wagon pulled behind him until they made it out and saw their mothers talking, her sisters huffing, and his father standing nearby.
Just the person Colin hoped to see.
“Dad, can you help me put my pumpkin in Pen’s car?” he yelled, patting his prize-winning pumpkin and cheering when his father nodded back with a grin that matched his own.
“Colin!” Penelope argued, and Colin whipped his body around to face her. “That’s your pumpkin! You grew it, and it’s the biggest one. It’s special.”
“You’re special.” The words tumbled out easily—the pumpkin was special, but not nearly as special as the friend he had gained today. “It was special to grow it, but now I think it would be even more special to get to give it to you. It’s the biggest one on the whole farm, Pen. I really want you to have it.”
Penelope rushed toward him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. “Thank you, Colin.”
“You’re welcome,” he said quietly as they separated, looking up to find his dad talking to her mom, the giant pumpkin being pulled along behind him far more easily than it had followed Colin. Pen reached into her apple basket and pulled out the littlest pumpkin, holding it out to him.
“Is it weird to give you a pumpkin I got for free from your own farm?” she asked, and he threw his head back laughing. “That's all I have, though.”
“It’s not weird, it’s perfect,” Colin promised, taking it from her. For the first time, he understood how she must have felt. It was completely different to have someone give you a pumpkin, and even more wonderful that it was somebody he already cared about very much—even if he had only met her that day. “It’s so little. It reminds me of you.”
“I’m not that little,” she huffed, and he laughed, tugging at his collar and making a silly face that made her giggle back at him.
“I know, you’re only a little bit little, but it reminds me of you, anyway,” he explained, his heart feeling warm when she smiled at him. “Thanks, Pen.”
The two children shared one last hug—for the day, anyway. He was certain it wouldn’t be their last, now that she lived down the road and could visit again.
“Bye Colin,” Penelope whispered as she pulled away.
“See you soon, Pen,” he answered, and she skipped away, basket in hand as she prepared to leave the farm with what she thought was the best pumpkin.
It wasn’t, though—he was sure of it.
The greatest one of all was the little one he cradled in his hands as he watched his best friend go.