“Austin’s leaving next week to get settled into his new job and find us a place to live. As soon as he does, we’ll pack up and go. So probably six weeks to two months.”
“Right before Christmas?”
She sighed. “Yeah. The timing isn’t great, but it can’t be helped. Even if he doesn’t find a house by then, we’ll rent something and move. We don’t want to be apart longer than that.”
That meant he had two months to find a house or property to build on, if he was lucky. He was on a time crunch now, so he had to talk to Harper. Maybe that’s why she’d called, to tell him she’d finally gotten in touch with Brielle. That would be good news, he supposed.
Once the parade passed them by, the boys ran to their mother. Emma, the only girl and Amber’s youngest, climbedinto his lap. “Lookee what I got, Unca Russy.” She held up a small lollipop, one of the candies the clowns had tossed out to the kids. Emma was three years old and the spitting image of Amber. Her flaming-red hair curled from underneath a small purple beanie, and freckles sprinkled across her eyelids and cheeks. She fussed with the wrapper until he took it from her and opened it. She popped the sucker in her mouth and leaned her head against his chest.
He kissed her temple and looked at Amber, who was corralling her three boys—eight, seven, and five. Senior stood behind them to make sure they didn’t run off into the street, even though it had been blocked off for the parade. He shifted his gaze to Rusty, sadness in his eyes.
I’ll miss them too.
“Everyone ready for a hot dog?” Amber asked. The boys raised their hands while Emma stayed put in Rusty’s lap.
“Me,” Senior said, raising his hand. “I’m starvin’.”
Rusty carried Emma across the street as they headed for Sunshine Diner. They spent the rest of the afternoon going up and down Main Street and visiting with people in the community. But there was one person he didn’t see—Harper. No doubt she’d skipped the parade to work. He was relieved. Doggone it, he was disappointed too. He reeled that emotion back in. The sooner he got over her, the better.
They went back to his house, and Amber loaded the kids to take them back to Little Rock. Senior looked at Rusty. “Do you mind if I go with them?” he asked, glancing at his grandchildren again. “I’d like to spend as much time as I can with them before they move away.”
“Of course.” Rusty hadn’t said anything to him aboutseeing Harper, and Senior fortunately hadn’t asked. “I’ll pick you up next week.”
“Ain’t no need. Amber already said she’d give me a ride back.”
“While y’all and the kids were getting cookies at the café, I ran into one of my high school friends,” Amber said. “We’re going to meet up the day before the auction.” She poked her head into the back seat of the car. “Jace, you give your brother his pumpkin bucket back right now.” She stood and glowered at Rusty and Senior. “Thanks for stuffing them with sugar today.”
“You’re welcome,” they both said at the same time.
Amber huffed, then half smiled. “You’re putting them to bed tonight, Senior.”
“Gladly.” He winked at Rusty.
After he helped Senior pack and everyone left for Little Rock, Rusty went back inside the house—or the dump, as Amber called it. The silence hit him hard. When she and the kids were here, the entire place was filled with noise—the kids playing, talking, yelling, and yes, occasionally crying, because siblings could be mean to each other. He’d teased Amber enough over the years, although when he was little, he was the one who ended up crying. He chuckled. Despite the chaos, love reigned. Like it had when he was growing up here.
Dang it, now he had a lump in his throat.
He walked out to the back porch and looked at the dead leaves dotting the ground. He wasn’t much for yardwork—not that he hated doing it, but he was fine with his landscaping resembling a more natural state. Still, he grabbed a rake from the garage and started making huge leaf piles.
Half an hour into the task, his phone rang. He flinched. What if it was Harper? Knowing he couldn’t put her off anymore, he withdrew the cell from his pocket, then saw the unfamiliar number. The same mix of relief and disappointment hit him. He shrugged it off. “Hello?”
“May I speak to Mr.Jenkins, please?”
The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it. “Speakin’.”
“This is Brielle Weaver. We met a while ago at Deep-Dish Delights.”
Rusty kicked at a stray leaf. Why was she calling him and not Harper? “Yes,” he said. “I remember.” How could he forget her donkey of a date and how the man had leered at Harper?
“I wanted to let you know that the Miles Road property is for sale again.”
He stilled. “Again?”
“It was under contract for a few days, then the buyer changed his mind. Didn’t Harper tell you?”
He gripped the phone. “No, she didn’t mention it.”
“I tried getting in touch with her,” Brielle continued. “But I haven’t been able to reach her. I hope you don’t mind that I’m calling you directly. If you’re still interested in the property, I can set up a showing asap.”
