FarmBoy

by Kayt Miller

  Patting my back, he sniffles. “I love you more.”

  After that, I hug the rest of our small group. I even hug a few strangers. Why not? Once everything has calmed down, we sit down to eat the most delicious steak dinner I’ve ever had. More importantly, my dad got to eat real food. He cleaned his plate and helped Mom finish hers, and he never stopped smiling. For the first time since the accident, I have the feeling things are going to be okay, that life may go back to normal—or a new normal, anyway. And that, coupled with my future family, makes me the happiest woman in the world. Hands down.

  37

  Nash

  She said yes.

  I figured she would. The thing I was worried about was the proposal. I did my best to come up with something she would like. Sure, I could have hired someone to fly a plane and skywrite a proposal, or I could’ve taken her to France or something, but I know my girl, and family is where her heart lies. So, I did something simple. I asked everyone to be here with me, so that she had those that loved her most around her. I half expected Isaac to throw a curve ball and refuse to show up, but the fact I was going to make Isabelle my wife seemed to appease him. I knew Bruce was on board, but I still asked for his permission.

  All he said was “About time.”

  That man makes me smile. He reminds me of my father a little bit. I also informed him that he’s going to need to work hard to get back because “I want my wife working with me.”

  It made him laugh, which was a relief. I wasn’t sure how he’d take it. “I’m gettin’ there, son,” he’d said. “They said I’m making good progress.” He also told me they’d already been playing around with different prosthetic arms for him, so part of his rehab has been learning to use them. “I’m hoping to be home in a couple of weeks. I’ll still have to do therapy, but not as intense as this has been, so we can drive to Emmetsville or even Iowa City if that’s necessary.”

  “Good news, Bruce.” And it is. Not just for him, because it means I can marry my girl sooner rather than later. “No, that’s great news,” I added before we ended our call.

  “So?” We’re in our suite at the hotel in Des Moines.

  Isabelle stops unpacking her small bag and turns to look at me. “So? What?”

  I know she’s teasing me. She’s had the biggest smile on her face ever since the proposal.

  “When should we get married?”

  “Oh.” She looks down at the bed, then back at me. “I think it takes a year to do all of the wedding planning.”

  “A year?” I practically pass out at the thought. “That’s too long.”

  Turning to me, she looks concerned. “Too long? Are you… is this about Ivy?”

  “Huh?” What? “No. Ivy’s been dealt with. Or she will be next week.”

  “You didn’t whack her, did you?”

  “No.” I crack up with laughter. “Whack her?”

  “You just said, ‘Ivy’s been dealt with.’ That sounds ominous.”

  Reaching for her, I take her hand in mine. I sit first then pull her onto my lap. “She stopped by the farm today.”

  “Again?”

  “Yes. She was mad about me getting a lawyer.”

  “You told her you were getting a lawyer.”

  “I know.” I shrug. “I guess she didn’t believe me.”

  “Hm. Weird. So, what happened that makes you think she’s dealt with?”

  “She told me she’d take me to court for custody unless I paid her five hundred grand. Then she’d sign over her rights to Andi.”

  Isabelle’s face turns beet red in seconds. “You’re shitting me?”

  I shake my head. “Nope. When I explained to her that I didn’t have that kind of money sitting around, she suggested I sell some of my land to you.”

  “I don’t have that kind of money either. But, for Andi… if I did, I’d give it to you.”

  I kiss her lips. “I know you would. But it’s no matter. In the end, she sold her kid for fifteen thousand.”

  Isabelle’s face crumples. “For fifteen thousand dollars?”

  “Yep. I meet with my lawyer, Shawn, on Monday. Ivy wants to be gone by Friday.”

  Isabelle is quiet. “How could she do that? Just let her go. Andi’s such an amazing kid.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did you tell Andi?”

  “Not yet. I’m going to talk to her about Ivy. I’m not telling her about the money or the lawyer.”

  “Of course not.”

  “I do want to ask her if she wants to have a relationship with her birth mother.”

  “That’s fair. But it doesn’t sound like Ivy wants to have a relationship with her daughter. Asking her might end up being painful.”

  “I thought of that too. But, I think, with your help, maybe we can talk to her in a way that she’ll understand.”

  “Don’t you think Ivy will be back for more money at some point?”

  I shrug because I really don’t know the answer to that. “I’m putting it in the paperwork that there’ll be no more money, but who knows.”

  Isabelle leans into me. “I hate to say this, but I won’t be sorry to see her gone, but that seems so selfish. Andi deserves better than that.”

  “She does.” He kisses my cheek. “She has you now.”

  “She’d have me no matter what, but thank you. I have her too.”

  I lean down and kiss Nash back. “So, when are we gettin’ hitched?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Too soon. I don’t need a fancy wedding, but I want my dad to walk me down the aisle. I also want Isaac and Kelly to be there, so it’ll take planning to know when they’ll be able to make it back.”

  “Six months?” I ask, hoping she’ll agree to that.

  She does. “Six months is doable.”

  “Six months.” I kiss her lips, then her cheek and down her neck. “Now, my sweet fiancée, let’s seal the deal.”

  “You mean have sex?” I’m playing dumb.

  “I mean make love. On the night we are officially and truly engaged, I want to make love to you.”

  “What’s the difference?” I really want to know.

  Placing his hands under my arms, Nash lifts me up and lays me down onto the bed, facing up. “The difference?” He reaches up my dress and grasps my panties. “Making love is slow and thorough.” Lifting my dress above my hips, he nods for me to pull it up and over my head. I do as he hints. “All night long.”

  “All night?”

  “All night.”

  “Won’t we get tired?”

  He laughs. “If we get tired, we’ll sleep. When we wake, we’ll do it all again.”

  “Oh.” I see. “All night.”

  “All night.”

  And that’s what we do. We make love. We sleep. And we do it all again.

  38

  Epilogue: Isabelle

  A lot has happened in the past six months. First and foremost, my dad is back home and working on the farm nearly full-time now. His prosthetic arm, while not like his real arm, is pretty amazing. After a heap of training and rehab, he’s now able to do some of the things he did before, and the things he can’t, Ben or I or one of the other hands can. It’s a blessing, for sure. The best part is that my father seems to be dealing well emotionally too. I’ve heard stories about other people who’ve gone through something similar but fared far worse afterward due to depression and even PTSD. Dad was lucky in that regard.

  Ivy left town as soon as the check cleared. Literally. After the final meeting at the lawyer’s office, Nash asked her if she wanted to say goodbye to Andi. Her response? “Nah. Just tell her to watch out for those carbs.”

  We didn’t tell her that.

  Honestly, I’m still in shock over that, and so is Nash. We weren’t sure how to talk to Andi about it, so we just told her the truth––mostly. We just told her Ivy went back to Hollywood. What else was there to say? Andi merely shrugged and asked if we could have pizza for supper. I suspect Ivy will come
up from time to time, especially since we heard she landed an acting gig on a series television show. If it’s successful, we may see her on TV each week. Or not. I don’t plan to watch it, but I’m sure others will.

  As for me, I went back to teaching full-time a few months ago. Dad was doing well enough that he didn’t need me hanging around. I was glad to be back to my usual routine too. I’d missed my kiddos as well as my teacher friends. Rose had so much to tell me when I returned, it took two nights in a row at Sisters to fill me in. It was well worth the time spent, let me tell you. Nash was right about Mr. Salinger. He really gets around.

  Nash and I are going strong. Since Mom and Dad got home, I’ve spent most evenings at Nash and Andi’s place. I, officially, moved my dollhouse over to the Watson place two months ago. Andi was beyond thrilled. Before I set it up though, I told her how special it was to me, that my father built it for me from scratch and that I expected her to treat it with care. Andi took those words to heart. Even playing with it every single night, it looks just as I left it.

  Which brings me to Mr. Nashville James Watson, my future husband, the man I’m going to marry in about fifteen minutes.

  Fifteen minutes! Can you believe it?

  We decided to get married at our church. Not a surprise, but it felt right to do it there. While I didn’t want a big, fancy affair, I still wanted a traditional ceremony. Rose and Kelly are my bridesmaids, and when I asked Andi if she’d rather be the flower girl or the maid of honor, she said, “Both.” So, she’s both. As soon as she’s done walking up the aisle with the basket of flower petals, she’s going to stand up with me. It works. Isaac is Nash’s best man, and beside him is Max and Shawn, his other lawyer and newest friend.

  We’re all standing behind the double doors waiting for the music to start, and I’m as nervous as can be.

  “You ready to do this, Izzy?”

  I look up at my dad and smile. “I’ve been ready for this my entire life.”

  My father smiles down at me, and I can see his eyes shiny with tears. “You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

  “I bet Mom was prettier.” I’ve seen pictures, so I know she was gorgeous. I tried to wear her dress today, but it was just too small. No amount of alterations would have made it work for me, so in the end, I bought a dress in Des Moines. It’s all lace, strapless, and fitted down over my hips; then it flows out in an A-line skirt. I knew it was my dress the second I put it on. I’ve heard of that happening, but I was a skeptic until I turned and saw myself in the dress.

  “Your mom was beautiful too. Don’t get me into trouble.” He chuckles. “You’ll always be my precious girl. You were a perfect baby and an even more angelic child.” Dad sniffles, and it makes me well up too. “While I hate to let you go, I know you and Nash will take good care of each other.”

  “Dad.” I use the tissue I stowed away in my all-white bouquet. Dabbing away the tears, I push up onto my tiptoes and kiss his cheek. Then I whisper, “You’re my hero, Daddy. And you always will be.”

  He pats my hand with his prosthetic hand, and I smile at him again just as the music starts in earnest.

  “It’s go time,” says Rose loudly.

  “Ready?” I ask my dad.

  “No.” He smiles then changes his answer. “Yes.”

  39

  Epilogue: Nash

  I just watched Andi walk down first, tossing out little flowers as she went. She looked so serious––knowing she had an important job to do. When she got to me, she hugged my legs then went to stand in her designated maid of honor spot. She looks so pretty in her mint green dress that’s all ruffled and girly. According to Isabelle, each maid picked out their favorite dress. The only requirement was it had to be mint green. I’m sure she did that for Andi, but no matter, everyone looks good––just not as good as my girl.

  The moment the wedding march begins, my body tenses up like I’m made of metal because I know she’s coming. I glimpse her walking through the doorway, and I nearly choke on my tongue. She’s beautiful. No, that’s not a good enough word. She’s exquisite. Isabelle is stunning in a dress that’s tight all the way down past her hips. Then it flows out from there like a traditional wedding dress. Seeing her body in the form-fitting style is making me want to get her alone. Just the two of us.

  That, however, will have to wait until after all of this hullabaloo. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind it. It’s what Isabelle wanted, and I’m not about to prevent her from getting her dream wedding. Compared to some weddings I’ve been involved in—Isaac—this one is pretty tame. We’ll get married, and then the reception will be at the country club. There we’ll have dinner, cut some cake, dance a little, and that’s that. Then, the second it’s over, I’m going to pick up my bride, set her in my truck, and drive us to Emmetsville for a night at a hotel. Tomorrow morning, we’ll drive to the airport and fly off to a surprise local. Okay, I’ll tell you. I’m taking her to Cancun. She’s always wanted to go to Mexico, and I don’t mind the idea, so that’s where we’re going for six nights at an all-inclusive place. Our room has a hot tub on the deck, and you can step into the pool right from our room. So, yeah, I’m pretty fucking excited.

  “Do you, Nashville James Watson, take Isabelle Renee Harmon to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

  “I do.”

  “Isabelle Renee Harmon, do you take Nashville James Watson to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

  I hold my breath because this is it. She could choose not to do this right damn now. Fuck.

  “I do.”

  Fucking phew.

  I barely hear the rest of the stuff coming from the minister’s mouth. All I needed was the “I do” from Isabelle’s lips. When she tells us to kiss, I reach out and wrap her up tight. I know we practiced doing something more subdued, but I can’t hold back now. So, I give her the kind of kiss she’s meant to get—one with real love and passion. No tongue, though. I was forbidden from tongue. I get it. Andi doesn’t need to see that shit.

  When the minister clears her throat, I know I probably went overboard, but I couldn’t give a rat’s ass less. We’re asked to face the audience, and I know I’m smiling like I just ate all the cookies in Mom’s cookie jar. And I’m okay with that.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m please to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Watson.”

  And the crowd goes wild.

  No, really, it does. Everyone here today is thrilled to see me settle down with Isabelle, and the loud applause proves it.

  We walk hand in hand back down the aisle, this time together. The plan is we’ll walk outside and wait for everyone to walk through to congratulate us before going to the reception. As we wait for people to mill out, I turn to face my girl. I lift the hand that’s holding onto mine, and I kiss it. “You made me the happiest man on the planet today, Isabelle. Thank you.”

  With a giggle, she kisses my hand too. “And you got me pregnant.”

  Holy shit. It’s official. I’m blessed. Does Isabelle feel the same though? “Are you okay with that?”

  “You’re making all my dreams come true, Nash. How could I not be okay with that?”

  Blessed. That’s what I am. I’m goddamn blessed.

  Books by Kayt Miller

  The Palmer Sisters

  Lainie

  Agatha

  Sadie

  Cortland

  Keely

  Violet

  Molly

  Standalones

  The Art of the Game

  The Virginia Chronicles

  One of a Kind

  The Portrait Painter

  Game Changer

  Bedhead

  It’s All Thanks to Santa

  Farm Boy

  Coming Soon: Redhead

  The Flynns

  Out of the Blue

  Mick’sology

  Vested Interest

  The Importance of Being Ernie

  The Importance of Being Kennedy’s

  Quirky Girl
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  For a complete list of Kayt’s books, visit:

  Kayt’s Website: kaytmiller.com

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to Virginia and Kim from Hot Tree Editing for editing this book from start to finish.

  And an extra special thank you to Becky Johnson at Hot Tree Promotions for your advice, expertise, and her positivity.

  And to my beta readers. Your feedback is essential to this process. Thank you!

  About the Author

  Kayt grew up in the midwest surrounded by a loving family which included three brothers, one sister, and parents who always fostered her creative side.

  Kayt wrote her first book when she couldn't find a story about a certain type of a woman and a specific kind of man. She called it Game Changer and it couldn't have been a more appropriate title. It changed her life in many ways.

  Her goal, as a writer, is to write stories that relate to all of us, to make readers laugh and maybe cry sometimes. Kayt hopes her readers can escape into a fantasy, one that's actually possible. Sure, some of the stories are dubbed "Insta-love" but that's okay. She fell in love with her husband pretty damn fast and with her daughter the second I saw her. So, it's a thing, I swear.

  Thank you!

  Thank you so much for reading Isabelle and Nash’s story! When I start a story, it begins with an outline, notes, and lots of crazy thoughts running through my head. When I actually start writing, the characters take over, leading me through the story like they’re holding my hand––guiding me. The process is exciting and cathartic. With that said, I hope you enjoy the story.