by Susan Crosby
“It would make more sense to put up a couple more high tunnels that you can use forever than to rent a tent,” he said. “A month from now the weather should still let you be able to roll up the sides so that your guests can mingle between them.”
“I agree it makes sense, but I can’t afford them, unless I can get another grant. It took six months to get the last one.”
Marissa had a check for him that would cover two high tunnels and much more. He could be an investor in the farm, too. Except he didn’t think she would take money from him. Not after she found out who he was.
“Talk to Brenna and see what she says.”
“I will. I’m going to meet her in town in an hour, between her lunch and dinner crowds. If you don’t mind staying here with Austin?”
“Not at all.”
“Thanks. You didn’t answer my question about staying on,” she said.
“We’ll talk about it later. I can see you’re anxious to go see her.”
“I’m afraid to hope,” she said, a little breathless. “I didn’t think I’d want a partner, but the right partner, one like Brenna, with her contacts? I could have the acres behind the house productive by next year.” She lifted her chin a little. “I’ll show those Morgans and Ryders.”
“Isn’t it enough to prove it to yourself?”
A few beats passed. “Yes. Yes, it is. Thank you for reminding me of that.”
She went into the house then came out soon after and drove off. Mitch waited for Austin to come to him and kept himself busy in the high tunnel until he heard the screen door slap shut.
“Whatcha doing?” Austin asked.
“Setting up the irrigation for the next batch of lettuces.”
Austin drew closer to watch. Mitch showed him how to clear the lines of dirt.
“I suppose you’d like to know why I came home early,” Austin said after a while.
“I’m curious.” He didn’t look at the boy but kept fiddling with the irrigation hose.
“He’s got a new son,” Austin blurted out harshly. “A whole new family.”
Mitch zeroed in on him. He set down the hose and gave Austin his full attention. “What do you mean?”
“I mean he’s living with a woman, Sharlene, and she has two kids, Jeremy and Rachel. He loves them more than me.”
“How do you figure that?”
“He plays with them. He tickles them. He tucks them into bed.”
“And he didn’t do any of that with you?”
He shook his head. “They’re getting married on Saturday. I was supposed to be there for it, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t, you know?”
Mitch knew if anyone had sprung a surprise family and wedding on him, he would be mad and hurt, too.
“He figured I would be okay with it. He didn’t even tell me on the ride to his house. We walked in and there they all were, waiting for us. I felt stupid.”
Mitch set his hands on Austin’s shoulders. “You are absolutely entitled to feel the way you do. He should’ve told you—or your mom so that she could. He’s the one at fault. But, Austin, messing up that way doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. Or that you’ve been replaced. He’s one of those people who doesn’t know how to share anything potentially emotional. I hope you’ll be able to forgive him and continue to have a relationship with him. He’ll always be your dad.”
“I wish you were.” He spoke quietly and at the ground, so that Mitch wasn’t sure he’d heard him correctly.
“I wish you were my dad,” Austin said more loudly, looking Mitch in the eye. “I told my mom to get you to fall in love with her. She says you didn’t. Why not? Everyone loves her.”
Mitch had never been backed into so tight a corner before. He couldn’t admit to Austin that he’d fallen in love, not without telling Annie first. He couldn’t get the boy’s hopes up that way. “You’re very special to me, Austin.”
His words weren’t enough to satisfy Austin, and Mitch knew it, even before Austin ran off, Bo at his heels.
The tangled web he’d created was now starting to suffocate. Tonight, without fail, no excuses, he would tell Annie the truth.
Chapter Seventeen
“I hope you’re hungry,” Brenna said to Annie after she arrived at the restaurant.
“I am, actually.” She hadn’t been able to eat, she’d been so filled with worry about Austin.
“Good.” Brenna waved at a young woman working in the kitchen. “I’d like your opinion on a new dish, a cold, gingered beet salad with pistachios and deep-fried shallot rings.”
The server brought the gorgeous dish and some bread. “Heaven,” Annie said, savoring the creation. “You put the most interesting combinations of flavors together.”
“I’m going to open a second restaurant in Redding next spring. I’m looking for a site now.”
“Where will you work?”
“I’ll go back and forth for a while, but once I feel comfortable with the staff I have in place there, I’ll be here most of the time. This is home. I’m planning on you for certain produce. I assume you want to increase your operations so that you can make enough money to live on.”
“That’s my goal. It’s hard to accomplish when I can only afford to do things one at a time.”
“How about if that situation changed? How about if we partner up? Restaurants aren’t particularly profitable ventures, either, but I’m lucky in that I’m in a position not to worry too much about money. You and I have the same worldview, I think, and I believe we can help each other. I like knowing where my food is coming from, how it’s raised, how it can be picked the same day as serving it. You need steady customers you can count on. I can get you an in with a lot of other restaurant owners and probably some grocers. Your produce could be presold.”
Annie set down her salad fork, having finished eating while Brenna spoke. “I’ll be honest. Everything you say sounds wonderful—except I’m not sure I want a partner. I want to make it on my own. It’s important to me.”
“Most people get bank loans to get started. Isn’t that considered making it on their own?”
“Those are loans that are paid back, not partnerships, where someone else has a piece of the action.”
“I understand that.” Brenna tapped her fingers on the tabletop. “Let’s both think on it, then we’ll discuss it another time.”
“That works for me. But I’m very interested in your idea for the charity dinner.”
“‘From Field to Table,’ I think we could call it. We’ll get as much donated as possible, and sell seats at a premium. I know plenty of people who will knock on doors for donations. I think we could seat about fifty or sixty at round tables.”
“If I could figure out a way to get two new high tunnels, we could use those,” Annie said, testing Mitch’s idea. “We could build rustic farmhouse tables and serve family style. I just need to figure out how to get the structures in time.”
“Why don’t you let me work on that. I’ve got contacts everywhere.” Brenna stood. “Let’s go into my office. I’ve been putting ideas into one folder for years now, anticipating doing this.”
Annie’s thoughts churned with all the work involved in getting her property ready for such an event. If Mitch could stay and till her land, at least enough of it to make space for the greenhouses, that would be good.
Plus he would need to stay on, to be there to work daily, for at least a couple of weeks. Which bought her time. Austin had asked her on the way back from the airport if Mitch had fallen in love with her. She couldn’t say yes then. But maybe by the time the fund-raiser was over...?
“I guarantee my kitchen is much more organized than my office,” Brenna said with a shrug. “I had the folder on my desk yesterday. Oh! I left it in the kitchen. I’ll be right back.”
She spotted Jim Ryder, then his son, the lawyer Vaughn. There were a lot of them, for one family. She was trying to figure out if any of them were couples, aside from the parents, when her gaze landed on a too-familiar face. Mitch.
Mitch Ryder.
Annie froze. Her mind went blank. Her heart stopped beating. She made herself inhale, but it hurt her chest.
Betrayed. That was the word that landed first in her mind. Hurt. Tricked. Deceived.
Used.
She had no doubt he’d been sent either to make sure her farm didn’t survive or to convince her she should sell to his family. Since he hadn’t done anything to make her situation worse, she decided on the latter reason. He’d been charged with getting her to fall for him, to let him convince her to sell, that his family was more worthy than the Morgans.
Worst of all, he’d used Austin, who’d fallen in love with Mitch, too.
“Are you all right?” Brenna asked, coming up behind her.
“No, I’m—I’m sorry. I need to go home.”
“All right,” she said after a pause. “We can talk before or after the market, if you want.”
“That’s fine. That’s good.” She gave Brenna what she hoped passed as a smile, then left the building.
She shouldn’t drive yet, that much she knew, so she started walking the downtown, sitting on a bench now and then when she became overwhelmed. How could she have been so wrong about him? Why hadn’t she called his bluff and let him tell her his name? She’d fallen in love fast, and it had deepened every week, but she could’ve recovered easier if weeks hadn’t passed—and if they hadn’t made love.
But he offered to tell you and you said no.
He should’ve insisted.
She was right on both counts.
It was almost dark by the time she felt she could safely drive herself home.
It was going to be a very long night.
* * *
“Why isn’t she home yet?” Austin asked...again.
“I don’t know,” Mitch answered...again. He’d wait another fifteen minutes then call Brenna James.
Just as he’d made that decision he saw headlights in the driveway.
“She’s back!” Austin raced out of the house to meet her. “Where have you been?” he shouted as she climbed out of the truck.
“My meeting took longer than I anticipated. I’m sorry if I worried you.”
Something was wrong. Very wrong. There was no animation in her expression, none of the happiness Mitch would’ve expected after her meeting.
“Are you hungry?” she asked her son.
“Mitch fixed hamburgers. He made one for you, too. It’s in the fridge.”
“I ate at Brenna’s.” She hooked an arm around his neck and pulled him close, kissing his temple. “Had dessert?”
“We were waiting for you. Mitch said you made brownies.”
“I think I’ll give you two some time alone,” Mitch said, heading to the door, seeing she was wound tight. “I’ve got some work to do in the shed.”
She’d found out his last name, Mitch was sure of it. It was the only explanation for her sudden change in attitude. He toyed around with his truck and straightened items in the shed until she finally came outside. An hour had passed.
She walked with purpose, and in her hand was his duffel bag. Gut-punched, he couldn’t do anything but stand there and watch—and hope she would listen to him. But as he waited, a vise squeezed his chest.
“I packed your bag, Mr. Ryder,” she said, stopping at the tailgate, heaving his duffel into the truck bed. “I figure you know why.”
“I would’ve told you tonight.”
“Right.”
He came up next to her. She didn’t back away, but her eyes were frigid. “I tried to tell you before.”
“And I didn’t let you, but frankly, you should’ve overridden that, given what you knew, and how I felt about the—your family.”
“My father didn’t send me here. Everything I told you was true. I wasn’t ready to go home, and my truck broke down. I ended up here, and you mistook me for someone else, and it became like a game—”
“A game?” she repeated, recoiling. “I was a game to you?”
Panic gripped him. “That’s not what I meant. I meant the beginning was kind of like that, not for long. Just until I found out that my dad and Shep Morgan were competing to buy your property.”
“Hoping I would fail.”
“And I wanted you to succeed, so I figured out a way to stay and help. That’s also the truth.” Was he getting through to her? At least she hadn’t left yet.
“We slept together,” she said.
“Also honest. I wanted you from the second I met you.”
Her voice went low and harsh. “My son loves you. I will never forgive you for letting that happen. After all the disappointment with his father, now this?”
“I love him, too.” He tried to cup her shoulders but she jerked back. “I love you, Annie.”
Her jaw dropped. “Since when?”
“Since the beginning, I think, but I knew for sure, let myself believe it, last night.”
“If that’s true, why didn’t you tell me last night?”
“Because I needed to reveal my identity first. And because if you didn’t love me back, I didn’t want to lose out on what could be our last time together.”
She threw her arms open. “How am I supposed to trust you now?”
“You can believe in what we’ve accomplished together and what we’ve shared. Believe that making love truly was that for me. I would’ve forgotten to wear a condom last night if you hadn’t said anything. I never forget that.” She’d said it would’ve been disastrous. That had hurt. “I didn’t care if you got pregnant. It would’ve only sped up the process for me. Please believe me.”
She shook her head again and again. “I don’t know what to believe. Most of all, I don’t want Austin to get hurt, and I don’t see that it’s possible. I can’t look at you without feeling used.”
“Used?” It was a hard, ugly word. “Never, Annie. Never. I had no agenda except to help you keep your farm, to take some of your load off, and to make you happy. I don’t want him hurt, either. He confided in me what went wrong at his dad’s house. I’ve encouraged him to tell you. I think he will.”
“You see? You’ve even usurped my role as parent.”
“Annie,” he said quietly, “if I’m gone when he wakes up, he’s going to be upset, I have no doubt. But he’ll recover from that. If you were gone...I can’t even put it into words. It’s easy for him to talk to me because we’re not related. It doesn’t mean he loves me more. He doesn’t.”
“He barely spoke to me on the drive home.”
“It had nothing to do with you. He’ll tell you.” His throat was on fire. His heart was breaking into a thousand pieces. Regrets tumbled through him, fast and furious. He admired her stubbornness—it was what would make her succeed in the end. But it also meant she wouldn’t back down from sending him on his way. He’d hurt her too much. He’d hurt her son. He might be able to get past the first charge, but not the second.
“This is too painful,” she said, backing up. “Please go.”
“What will you tell Austin?”
“That your family needed you.”
He memorized her face, wished he could wipe out the hurt in her eyes and the fierce pain inside himself. “I love you, Annie Barnard. You’re the best woman I’ve ever known. You didn’t deser
ve this, and I’m sorry.”
He touched a finger to his hat then walked past her and climbed into his truck. She headed across the yard and was in the house before he’d finished backing out.
He’d been devastated when his grandfather died, but death was part of life, expected, even as it was mourned.
This, this loss of the woman he loved, wasn’t expected or usual or easily recovered from. He remembered with clarity when Austin confided that she cried sometimes at night when she thought Austin couldn’t hear her. Would she cry now? Or was she too angry for that? Too heartsick?
Mitch drove down her driveway for the last time, navigated the twenty miles to Ryder Ranch and pulled up in front of his own house, where the lights were on. He would have no privacy with Adam and Brody there, but he had nowhere else to go.
His brothers were watching an old John Wayne movie. Usually he would’ve plopped himself in front of the TV with them. Not this time.
“Don’t ask,” he said as he walked through the living room. “My bed’s free, I hope.”
“Yes,” Adam said. “We cleaned up the bathroom, too. All yours.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He heard them go to bed an hour later. Even if they heard him get up, they would stay in their rooms. He wandered through the living room, dining room and kitchen, seeking a sense of home, not finding it. It wasn’t because he’d been gone so long but because of who wasn’t there. Annie and Austin were what made a home for him, no matter if they were in a tent or a castle.
He went outside and sat on a porch step, leaned his back against a post. He was thirty-six years old and what had he accomplished? Got married and divorced in the same year. Was a cattleman without cattle of his own. Had coped so poorly with his grandfather’s death, he’d run away rather than face it.
And now he’d hurt not just Annie but Austin.
He had to make it right.
* * *
