by Erin Wright
Worthwhile…
The word of the day, except this time, it was the bank that won the contest. They’d been able to figure out how to make the mountainside worthwhile, when she and Stetson hadn’t.
Hold on, Stetson could sell to real estate developers instead! The bank couldn’t be in possession of the only people willing and able to pay for a whole ski resort to be put in, right? They’d just have to find some backers themselves.
She groaned, burying her face in her hands. That was ridiculous, and even she knew it. These were the kinds of deals that took months or even years to put together, not a couple of days. Stetson needed cash right now, not two years from now. Plus, would he even be willing to voluntarily turn his family’s farm into a ski resort?
Jennifer was pretty sure the answer to that was a resounding hell no, although honestly, she wasn’t sure if he was going to have a choice here pretty quick.
“Is everything okay?” Carmelita asked, opening the screen door with Jennifer’s favorite flowered mug in her hand. “I made you some coffee. I thought you might need it.”
Jennifer took it gratefully with a wan smile. What happens when you lose the only home you’ve lived in for the last 50 years? What happens when I have to tell the man I’m falling in love with that his life is about to be destroyed?
“Yeah, I’m good,” she said hoarsely. “I better get back to work, though.”
She left Carmelita on the front porch, staring into the distance contemplatively as Jennifer headed back to the office.
Maybe this time, she’d have better luck. It sure as hell couldn’t get any worse.
Chapter 42
Stetson
Stetson looked up from the puzzle they were putting together to stare at the waterfall of hair opposite him at the card table. He loved watching her think. It was like watching a whole play take place, but he was the only audience member.
Probably the only time in his life he’d be able to afford such up-close-and-personal seats to a theatre production.
“Have you seen the chimney stack yet?” Jennifer murmured, her eyes scanning the pieces on the card table between them, biting her lower lip as she searched.
Biting her lower lip…it had to be the most distracting move Jennifer could make. Every time she did it, a bolt of pure lust shot through him. He wondered if she had any idea how enticingly gorgeous she was.
Scratch that. She didn’t. Not after how Paul had treated her.
Stetson figured he’d just have to be the one to show her the truth.
“You know, the puzzle pieces are on the card table,” Jennifer said with a teasing lilt to her voice, even as she continued to scan the pieces in front of her. “It helps if you look down when you’re trying to find the next piece to put in place.”
Stetson felt his cheeks flush a bit, which he immediately decided to blame on the dark beer Carmelita had brought out for him.
He cleared his throat. “I…uhhh…haven’t spotted it yet,” he said truthfully, forcing himself to look down at the puzzle spread out in front of them instead of staring at Jennifer. She was way more fascinating than a generic puzzle of a farmhouse with a horse grazing in the pasture any day of the week.
He had just started to search in earnest for the missing chimney piece when Jennifer held it up triumphantly. “There you are, you little bugger,” she crowed, pushing the piece into place.
“So you never told me why you thought you killed your mother,” she said quietly, her eyes still trained on the puzzle as she continued to search through the pieces.
“Wha…oh. Right.” He hadn’t forgotten; rather, he’d hoped she’d forgotten.
He’d blurted that out in a fit of desperation, trying to distract her from being upset about Paul. He hadn’t thought through the ramifications of actually telling her before it’d come spilling out.
He began pulling all of the white daisy patch pieces out of the jumble, thinking as his hands went to work. He always thought best while doing something, and he wondered for a moment if counselors had ever considered having their patients put puzzles together while talking to them, so they could think clearly enough to make progress.
“I like to think of myself as having been a pretty good kid,” he said quietly, as his stack of white daisy pieces grew. “I wasn’t an angel, but I wasn’t intentionally destructive, either. I wasn’t Declan, though. By all accounts, Declan was the easiest out of all of us. Maybe that’s why he and Mom were so close.” Stetson shrugged. “Or maybe Declan was just the most like my mom. Both peacemakers. Both hardworking and loyal. The way they held their heads…Declan was my mom’s mini-me, while I was my dad’s mini-me. Wyatt was just…Wyatt.”
Jennifer looked up and watched him closely as he talked, and he shifted a bit in his seat, uncomfortable to have those brilliant green eyes focused on him. He rather wished she’d look away, but of course he’d never tell her that.
He began connecting the daisies, flipping pieces around and trying them one by one.
“I was just starting to hit those teenage years – you know, where hormones rule your brain – I was just twelve but there was a girl two years younger…” He let out a low whistle. “Emma Dyer was her name. She left town as soon as she graduated from high school, so you won’t ever meet her, but damn. She was my first crush. You never forget your first.”
He looked up to see her smiling slightly at him, listening intently as if he was telling her the most fascinating story in the world.
He plunged on.
“I wanted her to come over here so I could show off the farm – I don’t know what I thought she’d want to see, since most 10-year-old girls aren’t hot to trot about row cropping, but I was young and head over heels in love. It was the ponytails – just perfect for pulling.” He winked at Jennifer and she laughed. “Anyway, I asked my mom if Emma could come over, and she reminded me that I hadn’t done my chores yet that day. I didn’t get to have fun with my friends until my chores were done.
“Well, I was pretty upset. I probably had an hour’s worth of chores to do, and if I’d hurried through them, I could’ve had plenty of time to spend with Emma but I wasn’t thinking logically, of course. I was just mad that my mom was telling me no. I told her that I hated her. Told her she was mean. I went stomping outside and promptly took about three times as long to do my chores as it should’ve taken, ‘cause I was busy having a pity party for myself through the whole thing. When you’re having a pity party, you don’t exactly zip through your chores at top speed.”
He felt his cheeks warm again as his eyes stung a little. Which was ridiculous. He was a grown man. He cleared his throat, and then cleared it again.
Finally, he continued. “I never saw her again. She was on her way to Pocatello to do a surprise visit with Declan when she struck a deer just outside of Twin Falls. It took me a real long time to realize that she hadn’t decided to take that trip just to get away from me and spend more time with her favorite son. I mean, who is so desperate to get away from her youngest son that she dies in the process, right?” He smiled without humor, staring at the completed daisy patch in front of him.
“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 t
o 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 stacking hay—”
“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?”
She 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 ha
nds 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!”
