by Zoe York
“Looking back on it, those two events just happened to occur on the same day. I’d been a turd, but I’d been a turd before, and I’m sure Wyatt had been an even bigger turd than that to Mom. But it…I wish I’d had a chance to tell her I was sorry. More than anything, that’s what I want to tell her.”
The room was quiet, the flickering candlelight on the walls adding the only life and movement to the two of them. Jennifer wasn’t saying anything, and it was killing him so finally he looked up, willing to take the judgment in her eyes. He hadn’t actually killed his mom, but he hadn’t been nice, either, and Jennifer had every right to think badly about him because of it.
But she was staring at him, tears dripping endlessly down her face. She wasn’t trying to wipe them away or hide them. They were just there. Moving ceaselessly. She gave him a tremulous smile and reached her hand out to him. “I can’t imagine,” she said softly. “If my mom died every time I said something to her that I didn’t really mean – especially during my teenage years – I would’ve been charged with mass murder a long time ago. Is it mass murder if you kill the same person multiple times?”
They laughed quietly for just a moment at the macabre question.
“I’m sure your mom knew how much you loved her, even if you were your dad’s mini-me. Moms love their children no matter how much we disappoint them or say awful things to them.”
He nodded, swallowing hard a couple of times. She was right, of course.
“I’m just glad that Carmelita never tried to be my mom,” he said softly. “She is more like my grandmother, you know? But if she’d tried to take over my mom’s place, I don’t know if I would’ve handled it well. It’s kind of impressive; Carmelita has a lot of tact. She just thinks that I don’t always need the watered-down version from her. She’s not one to hold back.”
Jennifer reached out her hand and took his in it. “Carmelita loves you very much; your parents loved you very much.” She stroked her thumb over his bruised and scabbed knuckles. He’d finally been able to ditch the bandages a couple of days ago. “I’m not sure about your brothers, though.”
It took him a second to realize that she was teasing him, and he jerked his head up to find her grinning at him while she wiped at her cheeks with her free hand.
“I’m not sure about my brothers either,” he said with a small laugh of his own. “But I do know what I think about the rest of the people in my life.” He stood up and pulled her out of her chair so he could scoop her up into his arms. He decided on the spot that all females should be made pocket-sized. It made it so much easier to get them into bed whenever he wanted them there. “I think there’s a certain female with the most delicious pussy I ever did taste.” He flipped off light switches with his elbow as he headed to bed, so Carmelita wouldn’t be upset come morning. “In fact, I’m feeling a might bit hungry right now.”
He hurried into his bedroom where he tossed her onto the bed, listening to her squeal of laughter and watching all of the right body parts bounce just like always. Now there was a sight he’d never get tired of seeing.
Chapter 43
Jennifer
Jennifer awoke with a big yawn and an even bigger smile. She was damn happy that morning, although it took her a minute to remember why. Oh. Right. Stetson last night. She stretched luxuriously as she looked around the room. He must’ve slipped out to go check on the cows.
Well, that just meant that she could eat another one of Carmelita’s amazing breakfasts and then get right to work. The clock was ticking. She’d blown past Greg’s demand that her report be turned in yesterday, hoping to ride on the fact that she’d always had excellent employee evaluations, and perhaps the bank president and the board would be reluctant to let someone like her go.
But she only had hours to find a way to outsmart her boss, before the clock would run out and she would have to admit defeat. She hadn’t told Stetson last night about Greg’s demands on the phone yesterday, because what good would it do? It would only make him worry more, and he’d done enough worrying to last a lifetime. Now, it was all up to her.
Sleep was for wusses, or people who’d managed to help their boyfriend save his farm.
Boyfriend…
She paused in the middle of brushing her teeth to stare at herself in the mirror. He was her boyfriend, right? He’d never actually asked her or anything formal like that, but she was sleeping in his bed every night, and they were spending every waking moment with each other when they weren’t working.
Two nights ago, he’d finally taken her over to the bustling metropolis of Franklin – she rolled her eyes to herself even as she thought the words – and as they’d wandered through downtown, checking out the adorable shops along the way, Jennifer had remembered back to when she’d first arrived in Sawyer, and how Margaret had given her lousy directions in her hunt for dinner.
That had been a lifetime ago, or at least it felt like it.
She spit out her toothpaste and rinsed her toothbrush, setting it in the holder off to the side.
It was time to do her job. It was time to help Stetson and Carmelita save their home.
Which was why, when she finally spotted the key to it all, she may or may not have thrown her hands up in the air and let out a huge whoop of delight. She threw herself out of the Fainting Goat Chair and danced around the office, happiness and relief flooding through her in equal measures. She’d done it. She’d actually damn well done it.
“What is it?” Carmelita’s voice floated to her as her soft footsteps echoed through the house. She made it to the office door slightly out of breath. “Are you okay?”
“I am great!” she hollered, kissing Carmelita on both cheeks. “Never better! Where’s Stetson?”
“Outside. He said something about counting hay bales—”
“I gotta go!” she said, too excited to let Carmelita finish. “I’ll tell you all about it later!”
She dashed out of the office and down the hallway to the front door, where she slipped on her new boots from Frank’s. She felt the same thrill she always felt when she pulled them on, but she pushed that down. She had to focus. She could oohh and aahh over adorable cowgirl boots later all she wanted.
Right now, she had a farm to save.
Chapter 44
Stetson
He was working the shovel, doing his best to dig out the curly dock while not jostling the thousands of seeds that were ready to drop at a moment’s notice. The fight against curly dock was a never-ending one, but since cows getting into a patch of it could be fatal, it was a war where he was never allowed to admit defeat.
“Stetson!” He heard Jennifer’s voice calling out, drifting on the wind. He looked up to see her in the distance, hurrying through the pasture as quickly as her legs would carry her, waving her arms frantically at him.
His nerves were instantly on edge. Whatever it was, it had to be important. She wouldn’t be running like her ass was on fire for anything less. Good important or bad important, he’d know in a moment. He swung his shovel up over his shoulder and headed her way, his strides eating up the ground.
When she got closer, he saw she was beaming from ear to ear, and he knew instantly that it was a good important. Thank God. He felt his stomach muscles loosen a little. As long as no one was dead on the side of the road, he’d enjoy a break from digging up weeds any day of the week, especially if that break came in the form of a very happy Jennifer.
“Carmelita said you’d be counting hay bales,” she gasped, once she got to his side.
“I was, but then—”
“Never mind!” she hollered, waving her hands around in the air. “I found it!” she said around gasps from her run across the three fields between them and the hay barn. She grinned up at him, positively radiating with joy. “I know how you can save the farm!”
Stetson stopped breathing as he stared down at her. Had she really? She’d done it? “What?!” he practically yelled. “What did you find?”
Sh
e grabbed his hands and began doing an impromptu jig with him.
“The wheat!” she hollered as she danced around him. “You can sell the 30,000 bushels of wheat!”
A ball of panic and dread bloomed instantly in Stetson’s chest and he yanked his hands out of her grasp.
No, no, not the wheat!
He was already shaking his head as he began to back away from her.
Chapter 45
Jennifer
Her grinning, joyous Stetson was gone, and in its place was a stone-cold wall of…nothing. He began backing away, shaking his head as he did so.
What just happened here?
She took a few tentative steps towards him, and he held his hands up defensively. He looked…
Angry? Upset? Dead to her? She suddenly couldn’t read him, and that scared her more than anything.
He dropped his hands and straightened up to his full, towering height over her. “I’m not selling the wheat,” he said flatly, staring down at her.
“Wha…what?” she stuttered. Her whole world shifted to the side, cockeyed and weird and out of focus. “But…but I did the math!” she protested. “If you can find a buyer for that wheat who’ll give you at least $6.25 a bushel, you can make the bank payment and cover the late fees. You’ll be all caught up.”
“I am not selling the wheat for less than $9 a bushel,” he replied, his normally warm, brown eyes instead hard as flint. He was staring at her like…
Like she was the enemy. She’d forgotten how awful it was to have Stetson look at her like this, and honestly, when he had before, they hadn’t been dating and falling in love. To see this side of him again, after everything…
She shivered despite the heat from the summer sun on her arms. How could it be so sunshine-y and bright, and yet so dark and awful at the same time? She felt like she’d been dropped down the rabbit hole. Nothing made sense. When she’d found the entry for the 30,000 bushels of wheat, but no corresponding entry for the sale of it, she was so sure she’d solved everything.
Well, he had to simply be misunderstanding her. He’d never struck her as less-than-intelligent previous to now, but she was having a hard time restraining herself from drawing pictures on the ground with the end of his shovel. Maybe a few pictographs would help things along. Hand gestures?
Something? Anything at all, really.
“Stetson,” she said firmly, determined to get this conversation back on track, “if you could get the $6.25, you could get Intermountain to leave you alone.”
“I saaaiiidddd,” he snarled, “I am not selling that wheat for less than $9, and that’s final! That wheat…it was the last crop my father harvested.” He was walking away from her, heading for the four-wheeler parked at the edge of the field. His long legs were gobbling up the ground and she had to sprint to keep up with him. “He wanted to get at least $9 for it, and that is what I’m going to get!”
“So you’d rather let the grain rot in the bins and lose your father’s farm,” Jennifer shouted, huffing as she ran, “than sell for less than what he wanted? You…this is ridiculous!” she spat.
“It was his last wish,” he snarled, chucking his shovel as hard as he could across the field before he spun on his boot heel to growl down at her, “and I’m gonna make sure it happens no matter what! You city people just don’t get it. You’ll never understand what it means to follow through on a promise.” His face was as red as hers, his hands in fists at his side.
The shovel went skidding across the field before hitting a clump of grass and jamming into it. The polished wooden handle quivered a little in the summer sun.
City people…
He was hurling the worst insult he could think of at her; she knew him well enough to know that. Questioning her parentage would’ve been less of an insult.
What she couldn’t figure out was why. Where was this coming from? She searched his eyes, but found nothing there. Dark and oh so cold. Her Stetson was gone and she had no idea how to get him back.
Her mind spun in circles. How could she reach him? She had to get through to him.
“If…if you don’t sell the wheat,” she warned him, stabbing him in the chest with her forefinger, “I’m gonna have to recommend that the bank foreclose on the farm.”
He said nothing.
“Stetson, you’re forcing me into a corner!” she cried. How could he do this? What the hell was going on in that head of his?
“Fine, take it!” he erupted. “It’s what you wanted all along. All this bullshit about helping people was just an act!”
“What?! Is that what you really think?” Jennifer tried to hold back the tears, but they were just as angry as the rest of her. They leaked out of her eyes and scorched streaks down her face. She hated that she cried when she was angry. She wasn’t sad right now; she was pissed. So why did her eyes insist on crying?
Some days, she damn well hated being a girl.
“I think,” he hollered, jabbing himself in the chest with his thumb, “that everyone wants me to leave this farm, so why shouldn’t I? My brothers wanted me to leave, Michelle wanted me to leave, and now the bank wants me to leave. So just take the damn thing!”
His long legs covered the last few feet to the four-wheeler and then tires were spraying dirt and grass clumps as he tore off, leaving his shovel behind. She watched him go, the endless tears trailing down her face.
Chapter 46
Jennifer
She paced the front porch of the farmhouse as she tried to reason through her choices, wiping angrily at her eyes with every pass. Honestly, though, what choice did she have left?
Not a one. Not with Stetson the Stubborn pulling stupid stunts like this.
Hmmm…maybe she would change that to Stetson the Stubborn Shithead. It had a nice alliteration to it, even if it wasn’t a nickname she could use around Carmelita.
Finally, her shoulders drooped in defeat. What she’d told him was true – he really was backing her into a corner. She couldn’t sell his wheat for him; she couldn’t find a group of real estate investors in the next thirty minutes who were willing to back a ski resort; and she sure as hell wasn’t going to be able to dig up a wheelbarrow full of semi-precious stones from the Goldfork Mountains and find buyers willing to pay cash for them.
This was it. This was his only worthwhile choice, and he was throwing it all away.
She was hurt and bewildered and angry and pissed as hell.
She was damn glad Carmelita couldn’t read thoughts, because if she saw the swear words that Jennifer was using right now in her mind…well, she’d probably change her mind about wanting to see the two of them together. Not that it mattered, of course. Men didn’t tend to date women who were busy recommending that their farm be taken away from them, and women didn’t tend to date men who were dumber than a fencepost.
So yeah, it was fair to call their relationship toast. Finished. Kaput.
Stupid Stetson the Stubborn Shithead.
Heh. Even better.
Jennifer was relieved to find that Mike the Mechanic answered the phone on the second ring, and that her car was finished. She hadn’t worried about what was going on with it before, because honestly, where had she needed to go? Anywhere she had wanted to go, she had wanted to go there with Stetson.
But now…well, she needed to go far, far away, and she sure as hell wasn’t taking Stetson along for the ride. Jennifer had never met Mike, but his warm gravelly voice was the one steady rock in her world right now, and she clung to it for all that she was worth.
Mike told her that Stetson had left his credit card on file to pay for the damage, and in the mood she was in, all she could think was that he’d better sell some of that damned wheat so he’d have enough money to pay off the credit card bill when it showed up. He wasn’t willing to sell it to save the family farm, but maybe he’d be willing to sell it to pay a piddling credit card bill.
Well, not her problem anymore, right?
Mike assured her that he was happy to
deliver the Honda out to the farm and thought he could have it to her in about an hour.
Thanking the man, she ended the call before heading upstairs to pack her things. She threw everything into her suitcase, a jumble of clothes and makeup and toiletries, but for once, she didn’t care. Usually a fastidious packer, the tears streaming unchecked down her cheeks made it hard to see and even harder to give a damn.
When the body shop man showed up at the farm with her car, she signed the paperwork by Braille. She never looked the man in the eye, letting her hair cover her face, afraid he’d see the trail of tears cascading endlessly down – a personal version of the Niagara Falls. She tried not to snuffle too much, but she wasn’t sure she was fooling anyone.
Carmelita didn’t seem to be in the house, and for that, Jennifer was eternally grateful. She didn’t know how to explain what had happened to the housekeeper, mostly because she didn’t know herself. She kept blinking and looking around, fully expecting to wake up from this nightmare. It was just a nightmare, right?
But she wasn’t waking up and she didn’t know how to function in this new world, this new reality she found herself in.
Even as her mind was following the same loop that went nowhere, frantically running in place and gaining nothing, she couldn’t help scolding herself for her hero complex she’d somehow taken on. She thought she could solve a problem that no one else could. She thought she’d found something that Stetson had somehow overlooked.
