*“Nothing like Sunday breakfast with my girls,” Pete said as he flipped the last batch of pancakes. “Especially when I have all of you here.”
“You’ll have us all here again in February,” Felicity said. “And then I’ll cook Sunday pancakes.”
“Mark that on the calendar, Tess,” Pete said, putting the empty bowl in the sink.
Tess pulled out her phone and made a note. “What day?” she asked Felicity innocently.
“Valentine’s Day, of course. The day after Dad finishes his contract.”
“Heart-shaped pancakes,” Tess murmured as she tapped. “Felicity. Got it.” She put down her phone and turned to Stevie. “Are you going to sleep for the rest of the day? It’s got to feel good having the wedding go off without a hitch.”
“We had our hitches early on,” Stevie said, holding up her hand when her dad offered her the plate of fresh pancakes. “No thanks.”
“You only ate two,” Tess said. “And you hold the family record.”
“They’re great, but I’m not hungry. Too much wedding food, I guess.” Felicity made a show of looking down at her plate. “Fine,” Stevie said. “I’m not hungry because Brant told me he’s moving to Austin.”
Pete’s fork hit his plate too hard. “Brant is moving to Austin? What about the tree farm?”
“Forget the tree farm,” Tess said to Stevie, “what about you?”
The question that had no answer.
“I told him to go.”
“Couldn’t he get another job in Boise instead of moving to Austin?” Tess asked.
“I told him not to.”
“You…”
Stevie’s gaze jerked up. “I didn’t want him to give up a big promotion, then have our relationship explode and then feel guilty for the rest of my life.”
“Didn’t?” Pete asked, having caught the past tense.
“I’m edging toward feeling guilty for the rest of my life,” she muttered.
“Some of us call that being willing to take a chance,” Felicity said dryly.
“Okay. I’m going to take a chance.” Stevie got to her feet, needing to move. “But I’m going to give both of us time to think things through, debate priorities.”
“Logical,” Pete said.
“I’ll send him a text when he’s in Boise and ask if we can meet when he comes back to Holly.”
“Good plan,” Tess said as she finished her last pancake.
“Yes,” Stevie agreed, carrying her plate to the dishwasher. A bit chicken of her to wait until he was in Boise, but she didn’t want to say or do anything until she was ready.
Pete glanced at the clock and Tess let out a sigh. “Really, Dad? It’s Sunday.”
“If I leave now, I’ll be back at a reasonable hour.”
Stevie started clearing the table. “I’ll be glad when this project is over.” She carried the orange juice and maple syrup to the fridge.
“You’ll be glad,” Pete said on a laugh, but there was an edge of stress to his voice that concerned Stevie. And from the look Tess gave her, it concerned her sister, too.
“Go get ready,” Tess said. “We’ll do the dishes, then I’ll haul Felicity to the airport—”
“Haul?” Felicity asked. “One hauls a load.”
“I will drive Felicity to the airport.”
“Better,” Felicity said. “And I appreciate the ride.”
Ten minutes later, they left the house. Pete locked up then gave Felicity a hug. “Two weeks, kid. I’m counting on you.”
“I’ll be here.”
Stevie got into her truck after hugging her sister, but didn’t put the keys into the ignition until her family drove away.
She could go back to her house and have a well-deserved nap with Maynard.
Or she could do what every non-chicken fiber of her being was urging her to do.
She turned the key in the ignition and then cranked the wheels around to head in the opposite direction of everyone else.
*
Brant cursed as he caught his hand in the hinges of the long folding table that had held the wedding gifts. He’d gotten up later than usual, having finally fallen asleep close to dawn, packed for his trip, then drank more coffee than he should have while waiting for Milt to show. Finally, needing to burn off energy, he headed to the barn to start dismantling tables. The very first one bit him.
He shook his pinched hand, then finished folding the legs more carefully and hauled the table to the edge of the room to lean it against the wall. One down.
He headed for the next table, his footsteps echoing as he walked. The barn was a lonely place this morning, unlike the previous evening, when it had been bursting with life. So much life and positive energy that he’d felt hopeful about the discussion he’d planned to have with Stevie about Austin. They’d come a long way in a short period of time.
But not far enough.
He’d just finished folding the second table, this time without injury, when he heard the distinctive engine knock of Milt’s old diesel truck. Help at last.
He didn’t want help.
He wanted to be alone and deal with the matters that were twisting themselves together in his brain. Stevie and his professional future were no longer separate entities and could not be treated as such. But…he now had company and help, and he would accept both with grace and wait until Milt left to go back to his dark thoughts.
“You started without me.” Milt stated the obvious.
“I didn’t get far.”
Milt attempted to tackle a table one-handed. Brant stepped in to help. “It was a great wedding,” Milt said as he gave up and stepped back.
“We couldn’t have done it without you.”
Milt gave a grunt of acknowledgment as Brant hauled the table away. “I’ll get the big trash cans from the back.”
“Thanks.” Brant leaned the table against the others.
“So what’s next?” Milt asked as he dragged a black receptacle from behind the cedar partition. “Are you going to start advertising? Plant the lavender? I have time to help you turn over the field before I take off for Sara’s in April.”
Brant rubbed the side of his face. “I’m moving to Austin, Texas.”
Milt’s jaw dropped. “No.”
“My office is closing down. I’ve been offered a promotion.”
“Texas?” Milt gestured with his good hand. “It’s so far away.” His expression shifted as another thought hit him. “What about the tree farm?”
“I don’t know,” Brant admitted. Thinking about the farm twisted his gut almost as much as thinking about Stevie. His parents had had such dreams for the place, and carrying on their legacy had felt so right. In a way, the tree farm had grounded him as much as the security of his career. “My salary is going to double.”
Milt’s eyes went wide. “Then you’ll be making more than you made—”
“With both my job and the farm. And I’ll probably have more downtime.”
“What about…” Milt’s voice trailed, but Brant knew exactly what he’d been about to say.
“Stevie?”
Milt nodded, then quickly added, “Not that it’s any of my business.”
“She’ll stay here, and I’ll go to Austin,” he said honestly. “It’s the way things are.”
Milt shook his head. “That’s a shame.” He cocked his head. “I hear a truck.”
Brant headed to the door, his heart beating against his ribs, only to slow his steps when he heard Harp say, “Thanks, Joe. See you later.”
“Hey,” Harp said with a wide grin as Brant opened the door. “I got a ride from Joe Anderson. I’m here to take Bob home. Great wedding, by the way. Hope it’s the first of many.”
“Brant’s moving to Austin, Texas,” Milt said as soon as Harp stepped into the barn.
“What?” Harp gave him a stunned look. “No.” He pulled his chin closer to his chest. “What about…”
“She’s not going,” Milt said.
“I was going to ask about the tree farm.”
“I don’t know about the tree farm,” Brant said.
“Now that’s too bad,” Harp said, folding his arms over his wool jacket. “I think you have the start of something good here.”
“He’s getting a promotion and a big raise,” Milt stated matter-of-factly.
Harp blew out a breath. “In these times, that’s nothing to scoff at.” His mouth tightened thoughtfully. “Sometimes life takes an ugly turn.” His gaze came up to Brant’s. “Not that this is ugly if it’s what you’ve been working for.”
“It is.” Except for the Austin part. And the leave Stevie part.
It was what he’d worked for since the first day he’d walked onto the campus of Boise State with the intentions of nailing down the most secure future possible. Flailing about with no direction and no money at the age of nineteen with a sister to take care of had scared the crud out of him.
Harp contemplated the floor for a few seconds, then said, “I’d better harness up Bob and get out of your hair. Unless you need help, that is?”
“We’re good,” Brant said. The truth was, he didn’t have a lot to fill the day, which felt strange after the big push of activity the final days before the wedding. Once the cleaning was over, he’d drive to Boise, and then kick around his apartment until it was time to go to bed.
Then he’d get on a plane and fly off to start his new life.
The life he’d worked for. The one Stevie didn’t want to share. Or was too scared to share. Either way, it was the outcome was the same.
“Have you thought about getting another job in Boise?” Milt asked as Harp left the barn.
“Tight market,” Brant said.
“But?”
Brant gave Milt a slow look. “The thought has crossed my mind.”
“Let me guess. You have to tie up a ton of loose ends.”
“I do.”
“Meanwhile, Stevie meets and marries some guy who sweeps her off her feet and you live with regret for the rest of your life.”
Brant blinked at Milt, whose face went red.
“Sorry,” he muttered, “but I thought you guys really had something. And I thought you had something here with the tree farm. I’m just…disappointed, I guess.”
*
As Stevie rounded the first corner of the curvy tree farm drive, she slowed to give Bob and Harp the right of way. Harp slowed the sleigh to a stop beside her truck and she rolled down the window.
“Bob’s vacation is over,” she said with a smile. The brisk air felt good against her face. She’d turned heater on high upon leaving town and had been too lost in reviewing her mission to bother turning it down again.
“He has to eat and sleep all day at home now,” Harp agreed, his tone a little too jovial, and there was something about the way he was studying her that gave her pause.
“Have Milt and Brant gotten a good start on the cleanup?” she asked.
“Milt’s a one-armed wonder,” Harp agreed. “But he might be leaving soon.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.” Harp shifted the reins in his hands. “Something unexpected came up.”
“I hope it’s nothing serious.”
“I’m sure it’s not. Well, I’d better be going. See you later.” He flicked the reins and Bob moved forward, but when Stevie glanced at the rearview mirror before going around the next curve, the sleigh was stopped again and Harp’s head was bent low…almost as if he was on his phone.
She rolled her eyes. Really?
But, if Harp was attempting to move Milt out of there, she’d take it, because that meant one less complication she had to deal with. Not that she would mind clearing away tables and chairs and sweeping up with Milt’s help, but her nerves would probably be close to the breaking point by the time the older guy took his leave.
Harp had apparently been successful because as she came around the final curve in the driveway, Milt was waving to Brant as he climbed into his rig. Even at a distance she saw Brant’s chin jerk up at the sight of her truck and she truly hoped it was a good jerk, not a you’ve-made-your-decision-now-live-with-it jerk.
Milt’s truck swung into a reverse arc, then he pulled forward, taking his good hand off the wheel long enough to give her a matter-of-fact salute as they passed. She nodded and drove on to meet her fate.
Brant stood next to her usual parking spot, waiting for her to pull in, his chin down so that she couldn’t see his face. She understood after the way she’d shut him down. She hadn’t expected this to be any easier than their talk the night before, but perhaps they could get a few things settled before he left for Boise. Make a tentative plan of action for the future…if they had a future.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket as she opened her door, but she silenced it.
“Did you forget something?” Brant asked as she closed her door.
The question was not mocking or pointed or ironic. It was a gift. He was giving her the gift of a gentle lead in and as she met his gaze, she knew that he’d done it on purpose.
“I…”
Her phone vibrated again, startling her. She reached in to silence it, then pulled it out instead. “Tess and Felicity are on the road,” she explained. She glanced at the screen and her heart jumped. “It’s my father.” Who never called her while he was at work. “Dad. What’s up?”
“This is Matt Mufalino, Stevie. I’m using your dad’s phone. He got hurt.”
“How?” Muff was the local wrestling coach and it made no sense that he had Pete’s phone.
“Sandy and I were out running with the dogs, and Sandy’s new lab got away from her and hit your dad from behind. I think he might have broken his leg. The EMTs should be here any minute now. Sandy is keeping him comfortable.” Stevie had no idea who Sandy was, and didn’t for one minute care.
“Can I talk to him?” she asked jerkily.
“You might want to wait on that—wait, I hear the siren.”
“Tell him I’ll meet him at the hospital.”
“Will do. Really sorry this happened.”
“Thanks,” she murmured automatically. “Bye.”
Brant didn’t wait for her to explain. “I’ll drive,” he said. “Your truck or mine?”
“Mine’s warm.” She headed for the passenger seat without waiting for a reply, happy to let Brant take the wheel.
“What happened?” Brant asked as he started the truck and put it into reverse.
“My dad got knocked down by a dog. He might have broken his leg. Again.” She hit Felicity’s number and raised the phone to her ear. As she waited for her sister to answer, she said, “He did this once before. It’s the reason I came home a few years ago, and never left.”
“I remember,” Brant said before Felicity answered.
“I’ve got bad news,” Stevie said into the phone before launching into what she knew. Brant took one of the driveway corners too fast and she planted her hand on the seat to catch her balance.
“We’re on our way back,” Felicity said. “Meet you at the hospital.”
“Drive safely.” Stevie glanced at Brant after ending the call, and he reached out to put his warm hand over hers where it rested on the center console, and she allowed it, since there were no corners ahead and she needed to tap into his steadiness.
“We don’t have to talk now,” Brant said, somehow understanding that she needed to simply be while she held on to his hand.
“Right.” They could talk at the hospital. Her favorite place.
Her phone rang again, and she instantly answered.
“Hi, Stevie. It’s Muff. I wanted to let you know that the EMT said that it was not a compound fracture and that Pete did not have a concussion. He’s in surprisingly good shape all things considered. Sandy is already on the phone with her insurance company about covering the bills.”
“That’s great,” Stevie said after swallowing dryly. “Thank you, Muff. Don’t feel bad about this.”
“Yeah,” he said doubtfully. “I don’t know if I can do that. Let me know when you know something.”
“Will do.”
Brant shot her a look and she let her head slump back against the headrest. “Good news,” she murmured. “No concussion and not a compound fracture.”
“The hospital already?”
“Muff. He gave the report he got from the EMT.”
“It’s going to be okay, Stevie.”
“Sounds like it.” She squeezed his fingers, loving the feel of his warm hand over hers. “Now if I can manage to stay in the hospital for more than three minutes…”
“You will. I’ll be there with you. So will your sisters.”
“I should be able do it alone,” she said under her breath.
“I’m sure you can.” Brant spoke with quiet sincerity. “But if you don’t have to, then why?”
Why indeed?
They fell into silence as Brant pushed the speed limit, bringing them to the city limits in record time. He slowed to turn into the hospital parking lot, finally taking his hand from hers to negotiate the corner.
Stevie stared straight ahead as he parked, regarding the building where she’d met so many disappointments, experienced so much sorrow.
She could do this alone, but, as Brant had said, why?
And why continue to avoid feelings in a misguided attempt to keep herself from experiencing pain? She could pretend she didn’t care all she wanted, but the truth was that she did. And as Felicity had pointed out with her sisterly wisdom, pain would find her, so why not run at things head-on?
“Ready?” Brant asked as he reached for the door handle.
She looked over at him and saw nothing but an unwavering promise of support in his blue gaze. He was prepared to go to battle with her, to be by her side. Was she not strong enough to return the favor?
“You asked me if I forgot something earlier.”
A heavy beat of silence followed her huskily spoken words, but a calm had come over her and she no longer doubted whether she could stay strong. She was strong.
“Did you?” Brant asked, his tone carefully neutral, as if he were afraid of scaring her away if he appeared too interested.
That was nice, but she was beyond fear and well into the territory of “too late to turn back now.”
Stevie lifted her chin as she reached for the door handle.
“Yes. I forgot to tell you that I love you.”