“Fink, I really don’t understand why you’re telling me all this.”
“Just listen.” A note of irritation crept into his tone. Softer, he said, “Please?”
She allowed her silence to be her answer.
After a few moments he went on. “I loved the rural school district, but I kept after my education too. There’s more than one kind of bias. I might live in the country, but I was an academic. White collar. I taught, then was the administrator for, the blue collars. And, of course, during all of that, my mom died and my dad asked me to come home.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I wasn’t ready. Much as I missed the farm, I still wasn’t ready to admit there was no difference in value between an educated elite and an ignorant country bumpkin.”
“No difference in value?”
“No. Sometimes we think that because we have a degree, it makes us better.”
“It takes work to get a degree. That shows diligence and perseverance.”
“And it takes work to make a farm successful. A marriage successful. To raise a child who is homecoming queen and valedictorian. That, too, takes perseverance and diligence.”
Ellie didn’t say anything. She hadn’t really thought about it, but she supposed he was right.
“One isn’t more valuable, or better, than the other. Much as I, or you, might want to think.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you.”
“I called Dr. Rothschild today.”
Okay. Subject change, apparently. She shrugged. “So?”
“I told her I was no longer interested in the superintendent position. To take my name out of the hat.”
She shoved to her feet and turned, even though she couldn’t see him, planting her hands firmly on her hips. “You didn’t.”
“I never wanted the position. I wanted the prestige that went along with it. I wanted to bury that Iowa farmboy so deep, he’d never come up.”
The stairs creaked, then he was in front of her, holding her shoulders, slipping his hands around her, and there was no strength in her to pull away.
“But that Iowa farm boy is a part of me. I’ll always regret not going back home and taking over the farm. And if I allow you to think you’re not good enough for me, if I let you think I want a job or prestige more than I want to be with you, I’ll always regret that too. This week has opened my eyes in a lot of ways. I realized all that time, I actually enjoyed waiting for you to come rolling in, in your pickup. I admired your sass and your verve. I looked forward to seeing you. Every day. I think I fell in love with you long before you sat down in my office last Monday—it doesn’t really matter when. I love you now.”
Her heart beat crazily in her chest, and her mouth opened and closed, but she couldn’t force out any words. The night air, the peek-a-boo moon, the softly scented breeze on her cheeks—it all felt like a dream. But Fink was solid and warm in front of her, his hands tender on her shoulders, and his voice floated on the night air.
“If you don’t love me for who I am, that will be hard, but okay. But if you reject me because of what I do, or because of some piece of paper that’s attached to my name, I’m going to fight you. Because I love you. And I want to be with you. And I’m willing to fight for that.” He stopped talking and held her against him.
She felt like the whole world was spinning and she gripped him tightly. She could hardly believe it was true. That Fink had just said he wanted to be with her. That he would fight for her.
Her stomach clenched, and she put a hand on it as she thought of Izzy in the pumpkin patch and the fear that kept her from choosing a pumpkin. The same fear that threatened now to keep Ellie from reaching out for her own pumpkin. Fear of change. Fear of loving and losing again. Fear of not measuring up to Fink’s high standards or the standards the community might have for the principal’s wife. Fear that Fink might resent her eventually.
The excitement that Fink loved her threatened to be overwhelmed by those fears. But she could she face them. She could step out, away from her comfortable life, and risk losing everything again. Risk facing her insecurities, believing that love could conquer all. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. Because of Fink, because of the man he was, she could do this.
The crickets and occasional rustle of the wind in the leaves were the only sounds. “Say something, Ellie.”
“Don’t quit.”
He laughed. A strangled sound. “Don’t quit what? Talking? My job?”
“Either. Both.” She took a breath, feeling like she was stepping off a cliff. “I love you, too, Fink.”
“Ellie,” he breathed, before he lowered his head and kissed her. She returned the embrace with all the tangled emotions inside.
He pulled back, and his breath came in short gasps. “Does this mean you’re willing to take a chance on me? Or does it just mean I won the first skirmish?”
She snuggled into his warmth. “I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I like fighting with you.”
He groaned. “I kind of like fighting with you too. Well, maybe it’s the making up that I most enjoy.”
She snorted.
Fink leaned back and seemed to search her face in the shadows. “Anything else. We can fight about anything else. But I need to know we’re together in this. You and me.”
“You better be careful. Once I’m stuck, it’s pretty hard to get rid of me.”
“I don’t want rid of you.” He nuzzled her neck, and she closed her eyes and leaned her head back. “Think your in-laws will be okay with us?”
She tried to focus. “I think. If not, I love them, but I’ll leave. I’ve been as true to Liam as I could be.” She ran her hands down his back. “I think they want me to be happy. In order for me to be happy, I need to be with you.”
“I need to show up at this dance tonight, much as I’d rather stay here. Do you think you might consider coming as my date?” Again, that little note of insecurity lightly shaded his question.
“Chaperones can have dates?”
“The teachers usually bring their spouses. I’ve never taken anyone.”
She liked that. As far as she knew, Fink had been so focused on his career, she’d never heard of him dating. Happiness bloomed in her chest. “I was going to see Harper crowned anyway. I bought a dress.”
“Mmm. Need help getting it on?” His breath brushed her ear.
“Mr. Finkenbinder. I’m shocked.”
“That was a yes.”
“That was a ‘you wait right here, I’ll be back out in a few minutes,’” she said with mock huffiness.
“What do I have to do to be able to help?” His hands slipped under her shirt.
She shivered. “I’m a country girl with small-town values. A man needs a legal right to be in my bedroom.”
“Sounds like I need to make a stop at the jewelry store.”
“That’d be the first step.”
The clouds parted and the full autumn moon in all its brightness shone down. Fink whispered in her ear, “Have you kissed your farmer today?”
“I did.”
“No, that was him kissing you.”
She smiled up at him. He’d just called himself a farmer. His parents were probably smiling right now. “Then I guess I haven’t.”
“Maybe you’d better get on that, Mrs. Bright.”
“I love you, Fink.” She put her arms around her farmer. And kissed him.
THE END
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BETTER TOGETHER SNEAK PEEK
“No way am I going in there.” Harper Bright took a second look at the yawning black hole in the mountain in front of her and crossed her arms over her chest. She didn’t need her doctorate degree to know this was a bad idea.
“Did you know this tunnel was on Hitler’s charts during World War II? If he ever made
it stateside, it was one of the places he planned to bomb.” Wyatt Fernandez planted his feet and put his hands on his hips. His dimples flashed but he spoke in the tone of voice that said, “I hear you, but I’m ignoring you”.
He used the same tone every time he dragged Harper on some crazy adventure or another.
She walked toward the openmouthed hole. Despite her family having owned the ground around the tunnel all her life, she hadn’t known about this small spot in Central Pennsylvania being on Hitler’s map.
The looming mountain that shot up around the ravenous cavity blocked the sunlight. Leafy green trees waved in the warm June breeze. Harper squinted up. “You know, someday, we really ought to start acting like the mature adults we are.”
“Gimme a break, Harper. The only time you ever spend two seconds not acting like an adult is when I strong arm you into it. Like now. This is going to be fun.” Wyatt flashed that irresistible dimple and his brown eyes twinkled. Harper wasn’t exactly short, but she still had to crane her neck to look at him as he walked beside her. His lanky frame had filled out in the decade since high school. Actually, now that she thought about it, he’d filled out very nicely. Broad chest, wide shoulders, and long, muscular legs. A flare of heat unfurled in her stomach. She straightened her spine. This was Wyatt. Her best friend.
They reached the orifice of the mountain. Cool air blew from its depths. It smelled heavy and sweet, like rotting soil. Their next steps took them inside. The hair on the back of Harper’s neck poked straight out. She scooted closer to Wyatt.
“I’m not seeing the ‘fun’ part.” Her voice echoed off the cavernous walls. Water dripped hollowly, echoing in the blackness.
Wyatt kept walking. “This isn’t supposed to be fun. It’s research. Do you want to find it or not?”
Harper bumped Wyatt’s arm with her shoulder. “You know I do.”
She wanted to see if the old stories were true, but couldn’t help shivering as she looked around at the stone walls arching above. The farther in they walked, the darker it got. At this point, she could barely see Wyatt’s outline. She pushed back the fear threatening to break loose in her head. It wasn’t that walking in the tunnel was particularly dangerous. It was more the idea of the dark unknown and being trapped in a small space with an angry locomotive.
As if Wyatt could read her mind, he said, “There isn’t any danger if a train would actually go through while we’re in here. Although, I have heard that there could be a bit of air suction.”
She planted her feet. “What?”
“Kidding.” He pulled on her arm. “Come on.”
She started walking again. Slowly. “What did you mean by air suction?” Wyatt had always been better with hard science. All she’d cared about was finding the family heirloom that her great-great grandmother had told her was hidden in the deepest depths.
Wyatt tapped her head with the hand that wasn’t dragging her toward the tunnel. “Well, since you’re the brain in this relationship…”
She swatted his hand and continued to drag her feet, even though she’d already decided to go along with his nutty scheme, the way she always did. After all, not only did she want to find the ring, but this could be the last time Wyatt and she went on an adventure together. She’d gotten the call yesterday that her tenure vote was scheduled for the end of summer. It was the one last thing she had to cross off the list of career goals she’d made the day she had graduated from high school.
“Quit it. You’re smarter than me, and we both know it. I just happen to be able to stay in one place long enough to get a degree.” It wasn’t that she was so smart. She was simply willing to work hard. Plus, she liked to study. She’d enjoyed every second of the last ten years. Which led her to the vexatious question that had plagued her since the phone call: what now?
“Ouch.” Wyatt placed a hand over his heart.
She shrugged. Too often she’d wondered that maybe what she’d been working toward all this time wasn’t what she really wanted anymore. More likely she had become overly comfortable with achieving her goals, ticking each accomplishment off of her internal checklist. “It’s true.”
“Yeah, well, you had a nice, secure home all your life.”
And he hadn’t. Never really knowing or being wanted by his father, losing his mother in a tragic skiing accident, being sent to live with an uncle he barely knew. Of course, if he hadn’t come to live with the man her mother eventually married, she would never have gotten to know him. She bit her lip. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, not a problem. I’ll only rub it in if you change your mind and turn around.”
They walked far enough into the tunnel that the light behind them faded, and Harper could no longer see the road under her feet. Dread balled and rolled in the pit of her stomach. She reached for Wyatt. Big and strong with rough calluses, his hand enfolded hers with an ease born of familiarity.
How could she have forgotten how easily Wyatt’s touch could calm her? All the numerous phone conversations and thousands of text messages couldn’t replicate the comfort of his touch. The miles between them had always multiplied Harper’s anxiety. The pictures he sent hadn’t helped. Standing at the top of some snow-covered mountain with only clouds and sky in the background, or his arms outstretched, moments before he leapt from a who-knows-how-high cliff with only a thin bundle—hopefully a parachute—strapped to his back. Of course, she wasn’t sure which was worse, the pictures, or the times when she didn’t hear from him for days. He always warned her when he might be adventuring out of service areas, but that was one instance when knowledge wasn’t power, as her ragged bloody nails could testify.
“Do you think we’re halfway?” she asked.
“Why are you whispering?”
She shivered—she hadn’t noticed she was whispering. “Just in case there’s a bear hibernating in one of those alcoves you talked about.”
“It’s June.”
“Maybe it’s waking up late this year.” Even to her ears it sounded asinine. Her cheeks heated. She looked over, but they were so deep in the mountain that she couldn’t see a thing. The darkness hid her flush. Lifting her chin, she tried to focus on the stories she’d heard as a child. If they found what they were looking for, it would be worth facing her fear.
“I can’t believe someone has actually hired you to teach college students.” He squeezed her hand, and she didn’t need a light to know he smiled beside her.
“I revert to my inner child when I’m scared spitless.”
Wyatt activated his cell phone light. “There.” He pointed it at the wall. Sure enough, just ahead an arched area was chiseled into the side of mountain. “Maybe three feet deep, three feet long and,” he looked up, “seven or so feet high. We’d both fit in there easy.”
“Us and the serial killer that eludes the cops by hiding in here.” She tugged on his hand. “Come on. Faster.”
“Didn’t you ever hear you gotta enjoy the journey?” Harper could hear the grin in Wyatt’s voice, but he did speed up a notch. For her. Heck, this was child’s play compared to the stuff he normally did.
But it was Wyatt, and she didn’t have to pretend to be brave. “I’ll enjoy it once we’re out of here.”
“It’ll be over then.” He chuckled. “Oh, except we have to walk back through.”
She stopped so fast her feet probably left skid marks. But she wouldn’t know since it was darker than sin, and she couldn’t see a blasted thing except for the far tunnel opening which didn’t seem to be getting any closer.
“We only have to go to the middle hidey hole. That’s where it’s supposed to be. No one said anything about walking through.” Fear had turned her backbone into an icicle. “I know you’re an adrenaline junkie, but I’m allergic to the stuff.”
Wyatt snorted. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be moldering under your books and lab rats. How many times have you left the state?”
“Three. And it was three too many. I like being home. I like moldering.�
�� She kept her eyes fastened to the circle of light on the ground from Wyatt’s cell phone until he put it away.
“I like being home, too. But being home is sweeter after you’ve left it for a while.” His thumb moved lightly over her knuckles.
A little of her tension eased. “I always assumed you had itchy feet like your mom.”
“A little, I guess.”
“If that’s not it, why not come home? You know Fink and my mom would love to have you back helping out on the farm.” She’d love to have him back, too. Gosh, she missed him. She hadn’t realized how much.
Even though he’d been away more than home the last few years, she still considered him her best friend. They had always told each other everything.
Well, except anything that even hinted of romance. Growing up, she’d always been very aware that her mother had gotten pregnant with her at fourteen. Harper had determined not to go down the same path, closing herself off to the very idea of boys or boyfriends. Studying instead of dating. She supposed, at twenty-eight, it was probably okay to crack that protective shell.
“Come on, Pickles. We’re almost half-way. The next hidey-hole is probably close.” His deep voice rumbled above her.
She smiled at the nickname he had gifted her with years ago.
Light cut through the darkness parallel to the ground—the wrong angle for Wyatt’s cell phone—just before he tensed beside her. The rumble in the air and the vibration under her feet confirmed what her brain had suspected. She turned to be sure. The entire mouth of the tunnel was blocked out by the massive shape of a train engine. Like a flesh-eating bacteria, magnified, with teeth bared, it bore down on them.
Acid shards cut through her trembling body. She barely felt Wyatt yanking on her arm. She couldn’t get her feet to move. The engine powered closer like a black avalanche, chewing up the distance between them.
He swept her up in his arms and jogged the two steps to the nook, flattening himself against the side wall so his back was toward the train. The roar of the engine and the squeal of metal on steel reverberated throughout the stone walls. The vibration seemed to be alive, monstrous, so close and big and loud she could almost see it. She pulled her body into a ball and pressed against him. She wrapped her arms around his head, wanting to protect him, too.
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