I detected the wariness in her expression as she added, “She’s in remission now, so she’ll have to get scanned regularly. We won’t be able to relax until we reach the ten-year mark.”
“I get that,” I said, the anxiety of it filling my chest. It was hard to worry about someone you loved. After Dad passed, I stuck close to Mom, afraid she might break apart, but she ended up being stronger than all of us.
“We keep goats, cows, and chickens, and sell organic eggs and dairy products to a local market,” she said as we drove past a herd of cattle. So they didn’t involve themselves in the cattle trade. Interesting. “I’ve been dabbling in creating other products with the goat milk, which is where the silo comes in, but we have time to talk about that later.”
I nodded. “Sounds like you’re doing your own thing and love it.”
“I do,” she replied as we passed the sprawling Carmichael Ranch, which was probably around a thousand acres, given the fact that we hadn’t reached their end of the property line yet. “We brought our horses from the ranch, and since then we’ve rescued a couple too.”
“Sounds awesome.”
We turned into Firefly Farm, which had a completely different vibe than the Carmichael Ranch. Sienna’s personal touches were evident, starting with the quaint signpost pointing us in the direction of the first barn and the farmhouse beyond. It felt so comfortable and homey, yet still so foreign, and the idea that I would be spending the summer here seemed unreal. Would I actually enjoy it, or would it be too much, but in a different way from the city?
At least the walls wouldn’t feel like they were closing in on me—not yet.
“Here we are.” She pulled in front of the farmhouse. “We can show you our ideas later. Let’s get you settled first.”
“Sounds good.” I grabbed my bag and turned toward the house, immediately spotting Kerry and Ainsley on the wide veranda-style porch. Beside them, waiting to greet us, were an older man I didn’t recognize, a woman who seemed familiar, and a couple of miniature pigs.
I suddenly felt warm under the collar for reasons I couldn’t readily explain, except I hadn’t seen Kerry in a long time, and under his scrutiny, I couldn’t help wondering what he saw. Did he see a broken soldier, or that gangly teen from years past? Or, hell, I didn’t know—but why did it matter?
He’d always been the strong and silent type, and I was only just remembering how unnerving it could feel. Today, however, I detected some humility in his gaze. He’d been through so much since the last time I saw him—they all had—yet he still stood straight and tall, seeming sure of himself, which was pretty admirable.
As I approached the stairs, Kerry stepped forward with an outstretched hand. “Nice havin’ you out here. It’s been a minute,” he said with a slight drawl. Wyoming natives didn’t have so much of an accent as they just dropped their g’s in certain words. Dad would make fun of Mom for it over the years, but Caitlin and I barely noticed it, unless we paid close attention and joined in on the razzing.
“About six minutes, maybe more,” I replied, thinking about the last time I’d seen him, and realized that was at Dad’s funeral. I’d been just a kid, barely out of high school. Damn. Kerry was only five years older than me, but he always had a more mature air to him, or maybe a quiet reserve, like he was always thinking about something. But here on his own property, he looked good, content, like this kind of life suited him. And that helped me push aside the questions I had about him. About the two of them, really, because for being a divorced couple, they seemed to be getting along just fine. So maybe they’d been able to put the past behind them.
“Suppose I should say thanks for your service, Private North.”
“Specialist North, actually,” I replied, reaching for his hand, and that was when I remembered how attractive I’d always found Kerry—and still did. Tight jeans, chest-hugging tee, impressive biceps, scruff, and cowboy hat. Damn. He’s still family, even though he hurt your cousin. It was okay to notice, though; anyone who had eyes in their head would.
“Impressive,” he replied, then winced. “Sorry I got it wrong.”
“Nah, no worries.” It really only mattered to my team, and I’d likely been on my way to officer, had I not almost gotten blown up.
Sienna nudged me toward the top step, introducing me to their housekeeper, Marta, who was probably in her fifties and had a motherly air, and George, the burly farmhand with the weathered palms and tan face. This might’ve been a smaller farm, but it still required plenty of hands to make all the moving pieces work. I knew that much at least.
I turned to get a good look at my little cousin, who had to be nine years old now. “Ainsley is so big. She was a toddler the last time I saw her.”
That had been at my father’s funeral, and though I viewed their family photos on social media, seeing her in person after she’d experienced such a traumatic event in her life made affection lace through my chest along with a tinge of melancholy.
When she buried her face into her father’s back and he reached around to draw her away from his body, I wondered if she had become shyer over the years. I used to dread when my parents urged me to greet strangers, and for Ainsley, I was just that—a stranger who happened to be family as well. So I cut her some slack for looking like a deer caught in headlights, and no way was this the time to ask for a hug or even a fist bump. Kerry whispered something in her ear, and she nodded, finally looking up to meet my gaze. There was wariness in her eyes, so I did the only thing I could think of in the moment.
I squatted down in front of her and asked her about the two pigs instead of making her go through an uncomfortable introduction, and it must’ve been the distraction she needed because a smile broke out on her face as she shyly stepped forward.
She introduced me to Phoebe the pink pig and Hamlet with the ebony skin, and I chuckled at the cute names. They looked practically yin and yang, staying close together as I reached out to pet them, and were likely thick as thieves. I would’ve expected a few dogs, not pigs. I had made friends with stray dogs in service, and we’d sometimes leave out canisters of water for the cats. Maybe there was an entire menagerie of animals in the fray with the cows and goats and chickens, and I suddenly looked forward to meeting them all. I had always enjoyed animals, but Dad was allergic, so we could never keep any in the city.
“Kerry is goin’ to show you inside,” Sienna said. “I need to milk some goats.”
My head snapped up in surprise. That wasn’t something you heard often in the city, though there were plenty of wild goats in the desert that had these interesting twisted horns.
“Goat season was in the spring,” Kerry explained, “so we’ve got the babies left over in the barn.”
“Do the goats have names too?” I asked Ainsley, and that was when I heard the faint bleating coming from one of the barns.
“Of course,” Ainsley said, and I grinned. Oh, this was gonna be fun.
“I’m sure by the end of summer you will have learned them all and even have your favorites,” Sienna added with a wave, heading down the stairs.
“You can follow me,” Kerry said. I reached for my suitcase and trailed behind him up the porch steps. “Need somethin’ to wet your whistle?”
I nearly cracked a joke about a gay man asking another that question, but that probably wouldn’t have gone over very well. Besides, I was going to guess they didn’t know about my sexuality. It wasn’t something that had come up in conversation with Mom much after my deployment, so, by extension, I figured if Aunt Maggie didn’t know, then neither would Sienna and Kerry.
“Maybe after I freshen up?” I replied, following him inside the large kitchen, past a long wooden farm table with plenty of seats, as well as modern appliances. It felt comfortable and spacious, and I wondered about the other rooms, which I’d find out about soon enough.
“Of course. I’ll show you to your room, and you’re welcome to anything in the fridge and cupboards. Marta will have dinner ready for us at s
ix sharp, which is standard time around here.”
“And don’t be late,” Marta said with a wink.
“Yes, ma’am.” I nearly saluted. If anything, the army had taught me about discipline, and their strict schedule of meals and activities was something I’d grown used to—whereas living with Mom these last few months was mostly fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants. A regimented way of life on this farm might just give me the focus I needed.
I scoffed inwardly as I followed Kerry down a long hallway. In the service, we’d all talked shit about getting discharged and finally doing whatever the fuck we wanted on our own schedules. There was a lot of dreaming and reminiscing, especially on long patrols. Who knew I’d feel completely aimless instead.
We passed one bedroom, then stopped at the second door. “Here you are. We’ll be sharing a bathroom; hope that’s cool. Sienna and Ainsley have the same setup on the other end of the house.”
I shrugged as I stepped inside the modest room that had a queen-size bed and a dresser near the closet. “Sounds good to me.”
“The bathroom is accessible from both bedrooms”—Kerry flipped on the light, and I glanced at the sink and shower and the other door opposite us, which made this what some referred to as a Jack-and-Jill style—“so be sure to click the lock on my side if you’re using it.”
“Got it.” I placed my suitcase on the end of the bed. “How about Marta and George? Do they live here too?”
He shook his head. “Their families live in Cottonwood Creek, and they drive in every morning.”
Ah, so it really was just the three of them. Would be four now.
Yikes, why did that feel a bit too intimate, particularly after all they’d gone through together?
“Holler if you need anything. I’ve got my own milkin’ to do,” Kerry said, pulling the door shut. “See you at dinner, if not sooner.”
I sank down on the mattress and stared out the window, which was covered by dainty, sheer drapes. I could just make out the barn and the pasture beyond. I imagined there would be stables to house their horses and some type of outdoor enclosure to exercise them too. Holy shit, I couldn’t believe I was actually here. Was I really going to do this and stay the whole summer?
But already I was feeling better, so it must’ve been the wide-open space and the northern air.
I could do this. And if anything went south, I could always leave.
That thought sorted, I opened the top drawer of the dresser and began unpacking my suitcase.
4
Kerry
Julian was definitely not a kid anymore. He was handsome and a hero, and I was curious about his slight limp, but I didn’t want to ask and sound stupid, so maybe his injury would come up at a certain point. But fuck, how he survived a roadside bomb and everything else was beyond me.
I could tell there was tension in his gaze as he eyed me, and no doubt it was for the same reason the rest of the family had to doubt me. I’d hurt Sienna, she’d divorced me over it, and I deserved people’s scrutiny. The only thing I could possibly do was prove to everyone that I was a decent man, that I loved my family—as well as my ex; I just wasn’t in love with her. And by now, she wasn’t in love with me either. In fact, I was amazed she even tolerated me. If we didn’t have the foundation of friendship, she might’ve been long gone.
I exited the barn with Phoebe after milking the last cow—and appeasing Maisy with some cauliflower greens, her favorite—and spotted Julian near the chicken coop with Ainsley and Sienna. Hamlet was circling Julian’s ankles, which was unusual for him since he always stuck close by Phoebe. When Julian reached down to rub Hamlet’s ears, he looked pleased and snorted his approval.
As I got closer, I heard Ainsley naming the goats grazing in the pasture. Guess she’d gotten over her wariness about our visitor, but his approach had probably helped as well. Julian was right on by asking about the animals upon greeting her, almost like he was a natural. That had helped her come out of her shell. My gut clenched as I watched her motion animatedly, and my gaze met Sienna’s in a knowing look. It was more than shyness for our daughter. Since she’d been diagnosed with cancer, she’d developed anxiety about different things, depending on the situation, and preferred to stick close to us on the farm, sometimes to the detriment of our routine, especially if she was having a particularly needy day.
“I think Julian’s eyes are going to roll in the back of his head if you tell him any more names,” I said with a laugh. “Way to ease him into things.”
“Don’t worry,” he shot back. “I’ll be sure to have her name them all again tomorrow.”
“And she’d happily oblige,” Sienna remarked as we watched her run around the grass with the baby goats, whose once wobbly legs were finally getting their balance.
Right then Marta came out on the porch to signal to us that dinner was ready. It was alongside a stern look, most likely because we’d gotten distracted and it was a bit past six.
Marta didn’t normally stick around during the supper hour, and once she’d prepared it, she’d head home to her elderly mother, who lived with her. But tonight she seemed to have decided to eat dinner with us to properly greet our guest, which was kind of her.
As we made our way to the house, I was surprised to see that George had also stayed put, possibly to get to know our guest or make a good impression. If he did hang around, it was normally on Fridays, when we’d have a beer on the porch after dinner to toast to a hard week of work. His children were grown, and he joked that he and his wife were empty-nesters. They sometimes went on road trips on the weekends to visit their grandchildren or sightseeing, so this weekend must’ve been a quiet one for them.
Once we were all around the table, digging into the chili Marta made, Julian complimented Marta’s meal and told her how much he loved cornbread.
“Noted,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. He’d be sure to get priority treatment now. She might even make a batch special for him.
“How’s Aunt Melinda?” Sienna asked as she dug into her bowl.
“She’s doing great,” Julian replied, slathering more butter on his bread. “The realty business is booming, she lives in a great apartment on the Upper West Side, and she’s happy.”
I briefly wondered if she was pained to have him leave home again, except what parent would ever get used to that? But based on what Sienna said prior to his trip, he needed a change of scenery. Besides, he was with family, and that might’ve helped soothe Aunt Melinda’s nerves.
“I always liked your mom,” Marta said, and recognition seemed to dawn in Julian’s eyes. I’d wondered if Julian remembered her from the ranch, though it was years ago and she was only a part-timer then, whereas George was a new hire for us from another ranch in Cottonwood Creek.
“I’ll be sure to let her know you said so,” he replied, and that was when I noticed how his leg was jiggling beneath the table, maybe with nerves or restlessness. And I couldn’t blame him. He’d been introduced today to so many new things and people—and animals, for that matter.
“Maybe she’ll come visit?” Marta asked with a raised eyebrow.
“That would be great,” he replied, then winced. “Her schedule is pretty packed this summer, with my sister’s wedding and all.”
“I’ve heard, and I’m dying to know all the plans,” Sienna said. “Still, Mom could probably coax her. They’re on the phone enough.”
Julian grinned. “Right?”
The family joke was that Aunt Melinda loved the city so much, she rarely left to visit her hometown. I suspected it was because of other reasons as well. Like maybe ranch life had never suited her to begin with. It happened.
I could feel Phoebe nudging my feet, so I slipped her a bit of my bread. Julian noticed and smirked, looking beneath the table at her.
“Daddy spoils her,” Ainsley announced to Julian.
“I guess so,” Julian replied. “What animals do you spoil?”
Ainsley’s eyes lit up, and I could tell she was
about to make a long list of her favorites. He was a charmer, at least where my kiddo was concerned, go figure.
“Well, there’s my mare, Piper, and Cookie the chicken…” Julian mouthed, “Cookie?” to Sienna, and she laughed. “And ooh, Gigi, our newest goat.”
“I look forward to more introductions to animals with funny names,” Julian said, becoming Ainsley’s instant favorite. She clapped her hands and laughed.
“He’ll be here all summer, so there’s plenty of time, Ms. Ainsley,” George said with a chuckle.
“By then I should have them all down,” Julian replied.
“You should probably tell Mr. Julian the most important rule of farming,” George said with a wink, and everyone snickered.
“What is it?” Julian asked in a hesitant tone.
“Always shut the gate!” we all blurted in unison, except for Marta, who only shook her head, though she was smiling.
“Good one!” Julian grinned, looking around at all of us. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”
“After dinner we can show Julian the horse stables.” Sienna was trying to appease Ainsley, who now looked excited about our new guest despite being racked with angst for weeks after we’d announced he was visiting this summer. She wanted to know more about him, as if sharing details would soothe any fears she had about having a virtual stranger around. Her new therapist explained that anxieties could develop after the strain and trauma of her illness. Needles and tests and hospital rooms on an endless loop would’ve done the trick.
“Only if you’re up for it,” I told Julian. “It’s been a long travel day for you.”
“Actually, moving my muscles will do me good. I don’t like being cooped up for too long.” And then he looked like he regretted saying it as the table grew silent. Sienna patted his hand as if understanding something the others didn’t.
And that proved my earlier assumptions that maybe he had nervous energy going on, either from being somewhere new or from being confined in the city. I could never do it, even though I got why Aunt Melinda loved the energy of it. But I’d only ever been once, for her husband’s funeral, and I couldn’t get back on the plane fast enough. It felt like we were packed in like sardines, and Sienna made fun of me for not being worldly. This is my world, I’d said when the plane touched back down in Wyoming.
Have Mercy Page 3
