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That familiar heaviness sank in my ribs.
Frank. There was only one directive—run this place exactly as he’d done. I’d known him well enough to know what he’d do in any given situation, and the best way to honor him was to act as he would. Anything short of that would be blasphemy. Sure, we were in the red, but there were plenty of conventional ways to turn that around. And if I ever got a handle on running the entire farm alone, I’d get right on that.
It didn’t matter that I was afraid of failing him—there was no choice to be made. I’d stepped into his place whether I knew what I was doing or not. I had to preserve him. It was the best way I knew to make him proud.
Another pause, leaving me to mark the feel of the smooth handle in my fists, buffeted by calluses I’d had since forever. The burn of my shoulders was a comfort, a punishing ache to remind me that I was here. That this was my place.
“I wish I could say I was surprised she wants to step in,” Mack said. “But she’s Frank’s kin, after all. Giving up isn’t in the Brent genetic makeup.”
I stopped, turning to him with my brows strung tight. “You figured she’d want to stay?”
He rolled one sloped shoulder. “Oh, I dunno. But I didn’t figure she’d give it all up, either. I wasn’t convinced she’d just pick up and leave. Frank was just as much a father to her as he was to you.”
That thought hit me in the softest of places. “You let me go on thinking it was a sure thing, her turning it over to us.”
“Well, you seemed real sure of yourself, Jake. None of us coulda told you any different. Kit figured there was a chance you were right and didn’t want to upset the apple cart for no reason.”
“Kit too?” I snapped. “And all this time, I thought you were on my side.”
“Oh, quit it. There’s no side to pick here.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said, taking back to my task with a little more determination. “She’s gonna fold like a lawn chair, just watch and see. If she really knows what’s best, she’ll let it go. Her meddling is only gonna make things harder around here, not easier.”
“Guess we’ll see,” he said like he knew something I didn’t. “I’m getting out to the barns to check on the milking crew. Want me to keep the news buttoned up?”
“They’re gonna find out anyway. Better from you than me.” I dumped the hay, irritated that the trailer was full.
“Don’t be too hard on her, Jake. She wants what’s best for the farm, just like all of us.”
“Except she doesn’t know what’s best for the farm.” Annoyed by my own petulance, I added, “I’ll give her a fair shake. I promise.”
With a dubious look, he nodded once and turned, leaving me with my thoughts.
Which were largely consumed by Olivia.
I turned for the stalls, hoping if I mucked them, I might muck her too.
When I’d seen her at the airport, that red hair flaming, I’d barely recognized her. I hadn’t seen her in near two years, and the truth was, I avoided her as best I could when she came home. It hadn’t always been like this—once upon a time, I reveled in her homecomings, hoping for … I didn’t know for what. Another kiss maybe. Something more. She always said she’d come back straight after college, but after that trip home when she dismissed the truth so easily, I never looked at her the same.
I’d told her right then that Frank needed her, but she left anyway. And when she graduated and got a fancy job, we all knew.
Olivia wasn’t coming back to the farm. Not if she could help it.
And here she was now that it was imperative, just like I’d figured.
When she’d reached for that pink suitcase on the belt, there was no denying it was her.
She was small like I remembered, a delicate thing. A wisp of fragile bones and wild hair. Her skin so fair, ten minutes in the pasture would boil her like a lobster. She seemed porcelain, breakable. And the farm was no place for breakable things.
Maybe she had more mettle than I figured, but I hoped that possibility was nil. Because if there was one thing I’d protect to my last breath, it was this farm. Every cow and calf, every acre and blade of grass.
And I’d be certain to make good on that vow whether Olivia liked it or not.
4
Know-How
OLIVIA
I stomped up the stairs with enough fury, even Kit knew better than to follow.
I’d known I wasn’t ready to hear what Jeremiah had to say, but whatever I’d imagined, this was a trillion times worse. Not for the knowledge that I’d split the farm with Jake.
