by Lisa Jordan
Jake jumped to his feet and paced. “Claudia...”
“When Dennis and I bought your grandparents’ property after they passed away, we promised to give your family first dibs if we chose to sell it so it would never be sold outside the family. And it hasn’t. So my promise is still intact.”
Jake jerked a thumb toward Tori. “She’s your family. Not mine.”
Not anymore.
He ground his teeth together and forced breath into his lungs, then jerked his attention back to Tori. “I’d like to make an offer to buy that land.”
She shook her head. “It’s not for sale.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“I’m going to live there.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
Claudia draped her arms around the two of them. “See? There’s a silver lining in all of this. With the two of you being neighbors, I have the feeling you’re going to hit it off right away. Oh, and not only that, but Tori can help you get your Fatigues to Farming project off the ground. She works in public relations.”
Claudia couldn’t be further from the truth. Jake needed that land to make good on a promise made years ago and to fix what he’d broken. He’d figure out another way because living down the road from Tori was something nightmares were made of.
And to work with her? Yeah, right. Forget that.
How was he supposed to survive being neighbors with the woman who didn’t have the guts to face him when she ended their brief marriage six years ago?
* * *
Fresh starts came with a price. And Tori was about to pay hers.
If she’d taken two minutes to do some research before coming to Shelby Lake, she wouldn’t have come face-to-face with the biggest regret of her life. How could she have forgotten where Jake was from?
The last six years had done little to detract from his good looks...or temper his anger.
Could she blame him, though?
What’d she expect? For him to take her in his arms and beg her not to leave again?
In her dreams, maybe.
Tori had no one to blame but herself. And she had to live with the consequences.
Now to convince Jake she wasn’t a Disney villain and simply wanted a safe place to call home.
Where was that exactly?
Not in Pittsburgh anymore. If ever.
Even though she’d grown up with a roof over her head and food in her belly, she’d felt more like an uninvited guest than a wanted daughter. Her father may have met all of her material needs, but she would’ve taken his love over his money any day. She dreamed of having a family and a place where she belonged. Falling in love with Jake had given her security and the sense of belonging she craved, but that had been short-lived.
She pulled her Lexus into the dusty barnyard and idled while deciding where to look for him. A whitewashed cinder-block building with a metal roof and a large front window etched with Holland Family Farm sat in front of her. To her right, a newly built rustic barn with an evergreen-colored metal roof sat next to a silver silo and a white barn with metal siding. Hay fluttered down from the small second-story window of the rustic barn.
She’d start there.
Opening her door, she stepped out of her car. The humid air pasted her dress to her skin as the early afternoon sun beat down on her head. Wishing she’d thought to grab her sunglasses, Tori waved away the pesky black gnats swarming her face. She wrinkled her nose against the ripe smells of manure, freshly cut grass and warm milk, and sidestepped a suspicious-looking mud pile. Maybe she should’ve taken the time to change into something more appropriate before barreling after Jake.
Black-and-white cows in the shaded pasture across the road eyed her as they chewed their food and swatted at flies with their tails. A trail of chickens flapped and waddled along the white fencing separating the barnyard from a large two-story house shaded by a row of pines and a sturdy oak.
She stood in the expansive doorway, allowing her eyes a moment to adjust to the sudden decrease in lighting.
Country music blared from an old boom box resting on one of the rungs of a ladder that led to a loft. A heavy, thick rope, darkened with age, hung from one of the sturdy barn beams and swayed in the light breeze that blew through the building. The scent of new wood heated by the summer sun filled her nose.
“The barn’s not much of a place for high heels and sundresses.”
Tori swiveled to seek the source of Jake’s voice. He appeared with a pitchfork in his hand. He’d stripped off his gray T-shirt and stood next to neatly stacked bales of hay in his faded jeans, grimy ball cap on backward, and worn leather gloves. His muscled chest was damp with sweat. He crossed to the old radio, flicked it off and leaned his pitchfork against the barn wall before retrieving his shirt hanging from a nail in the wall and pulling it over his head.
Was she relieved...or disappointed?
Forcing her eyes away, Tori glanced down at her sundress, toed off her heels and kicked them off to the side out of the way. “What are you doing?”
“Checking the roof and floor for any needed repairs, pitching old hay out the back window into the compost unit, and restacking some fresh stuff. You should’ve called.” Jake reached for a bale and lifted it over his head to add to the growing stack.
“You’re right. Sounds like you could use another hand.”
“Sure, when there’s one around.” Jake jerked his hat off his head, pulled a navy bandanna from his back pocket and mopped his forehead. Pocketing the cloth, he righted his cap. “What are you doing here, Victoria?”
She hated the way he used her given name, laced with disdain and veiled anger...like her father used to.
“I wanted to apologize. I’m sorry my presence caught you off guard.”
“Why today?” Jake yanked off his gloves and slapped them against his reddened palm. His eyes lifted and searched hers. “Why not yesterday? Or even tomorrow?”
The ragged edges of pain around the whisper in his voice sliced through her. “You remembered.”
“Even though you filed for divorce less than three weeks after we were married, I will always remember our anniversary.”
She dropped her gaze to the floor as her cheeks burned. With her big toe, she traced a circle in the dust. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes. “Jake...”
“Forget it, Tori. I’m not here to rehash the past. You’ve apologized. I accept. Now if you don’t mind, I have work to do.”
She ran a thumb and a forefinger under her eyes, probably smearing her eyeliner, and exhaled. “Aunt Claudia told me about the tornado and how much you’ve lost. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.”
“She also mentioned your project. I can help.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“You’re a real one-man show, aren’t you?”
“You know nothing about me anymore, so stop pretending you care.”
“But I do care. I never stopped.” Tori sat on a stray bale. The hay poked the backs of her legs. The pain was minor compared with the verbal barbs piercing her heart. “Tell me about your Fatigues to Farming project.”
“The program will enable disabled vets to learn about farming so they can start their own small businesses.”
“So how does my property tie in?”
He leaned the pitchfork against the ladder and reached for a water bottle on the floor. After taking a long drink, he wiped his mouth and looked at her. “Our property is necessary for growing crops and cow pastures. After Claudia and Dennis moved into town, we planned to buy back her property—it used to belong to my grandparents. We want to build accessible cabins for vets and their families to live in while they go through the program. Plus, there’d be space for a community garden.”
“Would you consider a trade?”
> His eyes narrowed. “What kind of trade?”
“My sister, Kendra, is deployed overseas, so I have temporary custody of her four-year-old daughter, Annabeth. We need a...safe place to live. Staying with Aunt Claudia isn’t an option since her lease doesn’t allow long-term guests. Help me get the house ready to move into, and you can use the rest of the acreage for your project.”
“Sell it to me. Then you can have the money for something that won’t need work.”
“I don’t want to sell.”
“Why not?”
She raised her chin. “I have my reasons. That’s my offer. How are you raising awareness for your program?”
“Haven’t had time for that yet. Still working on grant paperwork. We need funds to get the program started.”
“I’ve planned awareness campaigns for charities and different organizations. I could do a fund-raiser for you. And I’m good at what I do.”
“At what cost?”
“No charge. A trade of services. It’s a worthy cause, and I want to help.”
Jake retrieved his gloves and slid them on. He reached for the pitchfork and headed to the back of the barn.
Tori tamped down the familiar feeling of rejection and walked over to where she’d kicked off her shoes. After sliding her feet back into them, she followed Jake. “You have twenty-four hours to think about it, then the offer’s off the table.”
He jammed the fork into a bale and glared at her. He threw his hands in the air as his voice rose. “Man, Tori. Give me a break, will you? I haven’t heard from you in six years. You ignored my phone calls and letters when all I wanted was the answer to one simple question—why? Instead of hearing from you, I get divorce papers handed to me through my commanding officer with orders not to contact you or else face charges. So excuse me for being a little gun-shy.”
“I’m sorry. That’s not how I wanted things to happen.”
“You didn’t stop it.”
Tori crossed to the open window that overlooked the barnyard. Tears blurred her vision as her voice dropped to a whisper. “I couldn’t.”
Unwelcome memories swirled in her head, tangling with her thoughts and roping her emotions. She didn’t want to remember the pain ripping through her body or hear the whine of the ambulance as it rushed her to the hospital. Or relive the sympathetic tone of the doctor as he broke the news. Or the convincing tone in her father’s voice as he tried to suggest he had only her best interests at heart.
Tell him.
Not here. Not now.
“Couldn’t? Or wouldn’t?” Jake stood behind her.
She whirled around, fisted her hands on her hips, then poked a finger into his chest. “These last six years haven’t been a picnic for me either. There’s so much you don’t know. If I could change the past, I would. Since I can’t, all I can do is make a fresh start. A safe place to care for my niece while her mother finishes her deployment, and maybe, if it’s not asking too much, a chance to make amends. I’m sorry I hurt you, Jake. It was wrong, and I regret it more than anything. But I’ve lost a lot, too.” She brushed past him and caught her foot, turning her ankle. Pain lanced her leg. She reached down and rubbed her throbbing joint. “You were right about one thing, the barn is no place for a sundress and high heels. Twenty-four hours. You know where to find me.”
“Wait.”
She stopped, keeping her back to him. The fatigue in his voice nearly unraveled her. More than anything, she wanted to wrap her arms around him, but that was impossible. He didn’t want her around, let alone to be touched by her. She clenched her jaw, mentally preparing for another round.
“Be here at nine thirty tomorrow morning. And wear something more appropriate for getting dirty.”
Tori nodded, headed out the door and stomped back to her car.
Like it or not, Jacob Holland, she was sticking around.
Even though she knew it couldn’t be, her heart longed for that second chance.
To fix what she’d broken. But that wasn’t possible.
Because once he learned the truth—what they’d truly lost—he’d want nothing to do with her again. But, for now, she wasn’t ready to risk being out of his life forever. So she’d stay and prove she was good at keeping her word this time—with the wild hope it didn’t destroy them both. Again.
Chapter Two
Jake needed to have his head examined. Why did he tell Tori to be here this morning? Hadn’t he been tortured enough with seeing her yesterday?
But this wasn’t about him.
He’d suck it up, even if that meant spending time with the one woman he longed to forget.
Like that was even possible.
Jake finished hosing down the floor inside the milk house, directing the water toward the drain under the milk tank. Wiping his hands on the legs of his jeans, he grabbed his empty travel mug, headed outside and breathed in a lungful of cool morning air—a welcoming contrast to the warm, steamy milk house—and allowed the breeze to whisk over his sweaty face.
A line of chickens clucked as they hurried to the coop next to the milk barn. Cows lumbered for the shade trees in the pasture across the road. Soon, his niece and nephew would be awake, and then there wouldn’t be any quiet until bedtime. Not that Jake cared. He loved hanging out with Olivia and Landon.
Cuddles, a butterscotch-colored barn cat his niece had named, curled around his ankles. Jake scooped her up. Purring, she nuzzled his neck. “Good morning, Mama. Where are your kittens?”
He glanced at the open barn door and found the three kittens batting at each other. Jake put her down and cut across the backyard to the farmhouse. He needed breakfast and coffee before facing Tori.
Lots of coffee.
He took the back deck steps two at a time and paused outside the back door to remove his barn boots.
Even though Mom had been gone for five years, her rules remained. And that meant no barn boots in the house.
Scents of fresh-brewed coffee mingling with fried bacon greeted him as he stepped into the kitchen.
Still dressed in his blue paramedic’s uniform, Tucker, his younger brother by a year, stood at the stove, turning home fries in a cast-iron skillet. “Hey, man. Grab a plate. Your food’s ready.”
Jake did as directed, handed the plate to his brother and then reached for the coffeepot to refill his travel mug. “Thanks, brother.”
“Anytime.”
Taking the food and the coffee to the large oak table, Jake sat and bowed his head, uttering a quick, silent prayer. Another one of Mom’s rules—always be thankful for what you’re given.
His eyes skimmed across the hand-painted sign hanging above the farmhouse sink. In every thing give thanks.
Would Mom still feel that way if she knew what the future held for the Holland family?
After losing so much, Jake struggled with thankfulness. He went through the motions of praying and attending church, but he doubted his prayers reached past the ceiling. Didn’t matter that he could recite verses from memory, list the books of the Bible and answer trivia questions with the best of them. He and God...well, they were more like strangers these days.
How could he have a meaningful relationship with Someone who took the people he loved most?
His eyes strayed to Dad’s open Bible on the table in his usual spot. More often than not, he’d walk into the farmhouse after milking and see Dad with his reading glasses on, Bible open and a cup of coffee in his hand.
How did Dad and Tuck maintain their faith without feeling resentful? How could it be God’s will to destroy a family?
Questions without answers. And Jake struggled to wrap his head around it.
He dropped his gaze to the pile of steaming eggs and shoved a forkful in his mouth. He ate half a slice of rye toast in two bites and washed it down with a mouthful of coffee.
Tucker sna
pped his fingers in front of Jake’s face. “Hey, man. Wake up. Claudia’s here.”
Terrific.
Jake stifled a sigh, looked longingly at the rest of his breakfast and palmed his travel mug as he pushed away from the table. “Hold onto my plate, will you? I’ll finish it later.”
“Where are you going?”
“To the barn. I’m giving Claudia’s niece a tour of the farm.”
“Enjoy.”
Not likely.
Jake scooted out the back door, shoved his feet into his boots and headed for the barnyard.
Perhaps the polite thing would’ve been to greet Claudia and Tori at the front door and show Tori where to go, but he was sure Dad would take care of that.
It gave him a couple of extra minutes to psych himself into seeing Tori again.
He headed into the barn, gathered the saddles and pads, and carried them out to the yard, hanging them on the fence. Returning to the barn, he grabbed the bridles and fetched Westley and Buttercup, two buckskin quarter horses, and led them out of the barn as Tori crossed the yard to meet him. She carried a small brown bag in one hand while her niece, wearing denim shorts and a pink T-shirt, clutched her other hand.
Tori wore a light blue fitted T-shirt with a yellow cup and Luke’s printed on it. Jeans hugged her legs, and she wore a pair of gray outdoor hiking sandals. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail that flopped as she walked.
They reached the fence where the lawn hemmed the barnyard. The little girl looked at Jake with clover-green eyes like Tori’s and the same crease in her cheeks when she smiled.
Jake’s heart ratcheted against his ribs.
That child could pass for Tori’s daughter.
What would it have been like to have a child with Tori? A little girl with those same eyes and dimples? A boy with his dark hair and love of animals?
Jake chased away that thought. Dangerous territory.
Tori lifted the little girl in her arms. “Annabeth wanted to see the animals, so your dad and Claudia are going to show her the pigs and chickens while I tour your farm with you.”
