by Jill Lynn
Her smile grew watery. “Thanks.”
She’s not the mess I once feared her to be. When Ivy had first arrived, Finn had jumped to conclusions based on circumstance. But he could see now that he’d been wrong all this time. Ivy was amazing. Life had handed her really hard things, but she’d done well with them. And besides the fact that she and the girls were staying in the bunkhouse—which Charlie had orchestrated—she’d never asked to be rescued. She’d always been careful to show him she appreciated using the space, even though it was unfinished. She didn’t just take the way Chrissa had.
They spent the rest of the night talking and hanging out, eating the cupcakes he’d picked up from the bakery, the girls entertaining them, Ivy telling him stories about how she’d learned to love cooking and the crazy lessons her mom had signed her up for as a kid.
Compared to the date he’d been on this week, Ivy was so easy to be with.
How would he ever find anyone who remotely compared to her after she’d gone? And what if she stayed? Would that change things between them and allow him to pursue something with her? Before tonight, he would have said no.
But the revelation he’d had after dinner had shocked him into thinking possibly yes.
Chapter Eleven
Saturday dawned bright and chilly.
The girls were bundled in hats, gloves and winter jackets for their cattle feeding experience, and their excitement level was extreme. Last night Ivy had heard them whispering to each other long after she’d tucked them in. And though it had taken a minute to rouse them this morning, they were hyperawake now.
The four of them approached Finn outside the barn. The large flatbed truck was covered in the back with bales of hay. He rounded the vehicle and studied them.
“You sure about this? It’s not as exciting as you might think.”
The girls all nodded their heads.
“I wanna see the cows,” Reese said quietly.
“I want to ride one!” Sage’s demand made them laugh.
“Definitely can’t do that.” Ivy mussed her hair, then glanced at Finn. “We’re ready. Back out now and we’ll both experience the wrath of three meltdowns.”
The skin around Finn’s eyes crinkled. “Can’t have that. Let’s load up.”
They piled into the truck, and Ivy used the seat belt to lock the girls into place. Which left her in the middle next to Finn.
Their arms and jean-clad legs brushed against each other. Neither said anything about the contact, but an electrical current zipped through the cab. Finn’s grip strangled the steering wheel, and his jaw went tight. Ivy wasn’t sure if it was because he felt the same connection she did or because he was trying to avoid feeling anything.
Based on who he’d been when they’d first met, she’d have to go with the second.
The truck rumbled over the uneven terrain, and the girls giggled at the ride, talking about the mountain peaks that still held snow and how far the land went without houses or people.
If their old friends back in Connecticut could see them now, they’d accuse Ivy of turning into a country bumpkin, and they’d be right. She was consistently surprised by how much she enjoyed this land, the small town, the slower pace.
Even with the hectic work of opening the café, her evenings were calm and spent with her girls. Charlie didn’t expect overtime out of her, and Ivy couldn’t help but wonder what life in California would be like—what kind of job she would find and how long it would take to be successful enough to move her and the girls out of her parents’ house. Years, most likely. She should be okay with that—and she was grateful her parents were willing to support them—but she also craved the freedom Westbend had provided for them.
She hadn’t made a decision yet regarding Charlie’s offer, nor did she know how to. She’d told Charlie she was still praying and thinking, and the woman had respected that, giving her time. But a conversation had to happen soon.
Ivy felt stuck between both worlds. The café opening was Wednesday night. She had originally planned to stay for one week after that. Now the future was as wide open as the land stretching in front of her, though far more confusing.
They reached the cattle and Finn put the truck in Park. “Usually Cliff would hop out and ride on the back, releasing hay as I drive. Or the other way around. You ready to drive?”
What? “No, I’m not going to drive this thing.” Not only was the truck huge, she had no idea where to go and not run over something she shouldn’t. Like a cow. Or wait... Were cattle different than cows? She considered asking Finn and then thought better of it. No need to flash her newbie card on repeat.
Finn chuckled. “Thought that might be your answer. Let’s go.” He was out the door before Ivy could move and showed up on the passenger side. He unloaded the girls, bringing them around to the flatbed and lifting them up. Ivy joined them.
Like a veteran, he checked what order the girls were in today. Once they volunteered that information, he showed them how to tear off a square of hay and helped each of them shove it from the platform.
Reese was precise in how she handled hers—gently pushing until it floated from the trailer. Sage kicked hers with a pent-up aggression that made Ivy wince and wonder where she’d gone wrong. But after, her smile was bright and blinding, so maybe Ivy was overthinking. Lola’s turn was equal parts fascination and delight. The girls immediately began naming the cattle.
Finn’s gaze twinkled as it met and held Ivy’s. No words were needed. The beautiful morning and the land surrounding them was a testament to God’s creation, and Ivy felt peace in the marrow of her bones.
I’m free.
Where had that thought come from? Like a dam that had broken open, Ivy’s inner dialogue continued.
Look at your babies. They’re amazing. They’re living their best life in Westbend, loving time with Ms. Lina and feeding cattle and settling into this town as if they were always meant to be here.
I’m not trapped in a loveless marriage.
The accident didn’t cause permanent damage to any of us.
The future is wide open. I’m free. The past doesn’t have a hold on me anymore.
She lifted her arms, aligning her face with the sky. The last years of hardship fell away as the sun warmed the earth and her children giggled and found new ways to push hay from the truck and Finn let her just be in the moment. He didn’t question her strange antics. Didn’t force her back to reality.
Her arms switched to a self-hug as tears pooled and slipped down her cheeks. The moisture wasn’t enough that the girls noticed. They were too enthralled with their current job. And Ivy was glad, because she didn’t want to explain the emotion to them. She simply wanted to experience it. They weren’t sad tears. They were tears of release.
Eventually, Finn hopped down from the truck and removed each of the girls. He loaded them back into the cab, then returned to offer her a hand.
She took it and leaped back to the ground.
“We need to move the truck.” Finn held on to her hand after her descent, his concerned eyes asking questions his mouth didn’t broach.
“I just figured out that I’m free. Everything that happened with Lee, even with all I’ve done to process it...it still had a hold on me. I forgot how to be me when I was married to him, and I think I just found myself again.” She scanned their surroundings. “In the middle of this field.” She laughed. “The girls were my only focus for so long, and they still are, but suddenly it’s like a weight has been lifted. For the first time, I feel like I can make any decision and it’s going to be okay. If we stay, great. If we go, great. I’m okay and the girls are going to be, too. Look how well they’ve done with our unexpected time in Westbend. That tells me they can survive my parents’ house, or they can survive here or anywhere in between. God and I get to decide together. The freedom to make a decision and know either way it’s
going to be okay...that’s everything to me.”
* * *
Did Ivy have any idea how stunning she was right now? She glowed from the inside out. When she’d lifted her face to the sky, Finn’s heart had raced so fast he’d had to latch onto a bale of hay to steady the earthquake she’d unknowingly created in him.
How could he have ever considered her or her life a mess?
Finn had never been more wrong about anything.
He swallowed twice to get his vocal cords functioning. “Good for you. There’s nothing I want more for you than that freedom, and I have no doubt you’ll be amazing whatever you decide.” He squeezed Ivy’s hand before letting go. He wasn’t even sure she’d realized they were still touching.
“I wish Lee had believed in me like you do.”
If she knew the way he’d only seen the messiness of her situation in the beginning, she would be so wounded. The idea that Finn had ever struggled to see Ivy instead of her circumstances embarrassed him. He’d been judgmental and prideful, and he prayed she would never know that side of him.
“I don’t want to hold Lee responsible for how I disappeared during our marriage, because I’m the one who stopped being me. I’m the one who stopped having an opinion because it wasn’t worth it. I’m the one who buried myself. There’s no one else to blame.”
“There’s one other person to blame.” Finn’s skin heated with upset at the man who’d had Ivy’s love and hadn’t appreciated her.
“I know someone hurt you, Finn, but I hope you can move past it. I thought I had before, but now I’m realizing that part of it was still holding me captive.”
She did look different. Her features had shed the worry and concern that had plagued her when he’d first met her. When she’d been fearful over her girls’ safety. When she’d still been searching for herself.
She’d definitely been found.
“I think...I’m okay. I think I have moved on.” When Ivy had left his house the other night after their dinner, Finn had found himself disappointed that things had stayed platonic. He’d wanted more with her after so long of avoiding exactly that.
And he’d known in that moment the difference between what he’d felt for Chrissa and what he now felt for Ivy. He’d been concerned for Chrissa, and in that process, he’d developed feelings for her. But what he’d started to feel for Ivy was completely different. He wasn’t rescuing her like he’d feared he would end up doing. She was rescuing him by showing him what a balanced relationship looked like. By reminding him that just because something had happened in the past didn’t mean it would happen in the future.
And yet, she could decide to leave, and there was nothing he could do to stop her. Nothing he should do to stop her. She’d worked so hard to gain her freedom. How could he be the one to disrupt that by asking her to stay?
He couldn’t.
“I think the worst moment in my marriage was when Lee changed jobs. He didn’t even tell me until after he’d made the decision and committed to the switch. That’s when I realized how disconnected we were. I wanted to confront him about it, but do you know what I did instead?”
Finn shook his head.
“I threw him a congratulations dinner party and pretended I’d been on board the whole time. Pretended as if I’d known about the interview process, which had taken months. I was so mortified that he’d kept me out of the loop. And when I finally asked him about it later, he’d told me that he didn’t think I cared what he was doing as long as the money came in.” She sniffled. “I didn’t care about money then, nor do I now. It was never about that. But I let him shame me with that, and after, I shut down even more. I just... Something in me died during our marriage. But I feel alive right now. Thanks to you.” His heart grew ten sizes. “And Charlie. And everyone else in this town who’s welcomed me and given me a chance.”
“Everyone deserves a chance.” Especially you. He wanted to tell her how amazing she was, how much he respected her and craved being with her, but Finn couldn’t influence her future plans. Couldn’t say anything that would push her in one direction or another.
This was her decision, and he refused to be another Lee in her life.
Ivy needed the space to work things out on her own, and just like he’d originally planned, Finn would give it to her.
Even if it killed him.
“Thank you for being the kind of friend who let me heal. When I arrived here, I didn’t realize how far I had left to go.”
“It wasn’t as far as you think. And you’ve been that for me, too.” He avoided using the word friend, because while she was that, she was more to him. Yes, he’d asked to be put in the friend category, but now that he wanted out of that well, it was too deep, the sides were too slippery, the effect on Ivy too great.
Pounding sounded from the truck. All three girls peered out the back window of the cab, their patience obviously expired. Lola stuck out her tongue while Sage had gone straight to exasperated with them, and Reese’s lips wobbled like she was near tears.
Finn and Ivy’s gazes collided with amusement.
“Oh, boy. We’re in trouble now.” Ivy waved at the girls. “We’re coming! Hang on.”
“We do need to finish feeding these cattle. You good to go? Or do you have any more revelations?”
Ivy rolled her eyes, but her mega smile was enough to make him stumble as they walked to the cab. “I’m ready.”
“Why have you been talking back there for hours and hours?” Sage questioned when they opened the driver’s door, making them both laugh. “The cows are hungry.”
Ivy buckled the girls again, not sure how far they’d be moving. “Wait—are they called cows or cattle?”
“Cattle refers to all of them. Only the females are called cows. Heifers are young females who haven’t given birth yet.”
Ivy grimaced. “I feel like that’s something I should have learned in kindergarten. I just—Never mind. You wouldn’t understand.”
“I understand your city is showing.”
Ivy’s face wreathed with amusement and sunshine. “You, Finn Brightwood, don’t understand a thing.”
She couldn’t be closer to the truth, because Finn definitely didn’t understand why God would bring Ivy and the girls into his life when he couldn’t do anything to keep them there.
Chapter Twelve
Finn’s reaction to being around Ivy had gone from avoidance to eagerness to straight-up pain.
In the days since they’d taken the girls to feed the cattle and he’d finally admitted his feelings for Ivy to himself, they’d been multiplying like germs in a petri dish.
Which was why he was dreading the opening night of the café.
He should be happy for his sister and for Ivy. For what they’d accomplished. But all he could think about was Ivy leaving. She hadn’t told him if she’d made up her mind regarding staying or going, and he hadn’t asked.
He was planning on her leaving next week like she’d originally intended. Not hoping they’d stay was easier. That way, if they didn’t, he’d handle it. Somehow.
Finn exited his truck and walked the short distance to the café. He’d parked farther away to allow room for others to park closer. The soft opening would surely draw a crowd, especially with Charlie’s addition of the auction.
Finn had tried to tell her no. He really had. But he’d lost that battle miserably, and his boots were heavy with the knowledge that he was being auctioned off tonight like...cattle. How ironic.
He’d worn his usual for the event—jeans, boots and a light blue button-down untucked that Charlie had once told him looked good with his complexion, whatever that meant. He’d wondered for about two seconds if he was supposed to dress up, and then had decided that he didn’t care. His usual would have to do.
The door jingled as he opened it, and five expectant faces swung his way. Ryker, Charlie
, Ivy, Kaia and George. He’d met Kaia in passing at church, but George he didn’t know.
Charlie waved a dismissing hand. “Oh, I thought you were our first guest.”
“I am.”
“You’re my brother! You don’t count.”
“Ouch.” Finn moved the flowers he’d brought to his left hand and greeted Ryker with a handshake.
“Don’t worry. She said the same thing about me.”
Charlie squawked. “You both matter. You both know that’s not what I meant.”
They exchanged grins.
Ryker frowned at the flowers. “Really? You showing me up, Brightwood?”
Finn raised a shoulder. “It’s what I do.”
He greeted Kaia, introduced himself to George and then handed one bunch of flowers off to Ivy and one to Charlie.
His sister slugged him on the arm. “Finn! This is so nice. Thank you. I need to find something to put these in.” She scooted behind the counter.
Ivy’s response was harder to read. She looked from the flowers to him with wonder and confusion. “What are these for?”
He motioned to the café. “This. You did this with Charlie. You deserve to celebrate and be celebrated.”
Her eyes softened. “Thank you. I love flowers.”
“Good.” For a minute there he’d thought he was in trouble for bringing them—and not just from Ryker.
“I can’t get them to stand up because this mug is too short,” Charlie said from behind the register. “I think I’m going to have to run upstairs to my apartment and grab some vases.”
“I’ll go.” Ryker’s response was dry and agitated with a side of humor. “Thanks a lot, man.” He shoved Finn as he went by.
“What? I can’t help it that you’ve failed as a boyfriend.”
