Page 99 of Nixon’s Promise

Each day, they’d worked side-by-side in his office, and each night he’d slept in her bed. Nothing helped.

The crush of darkness would subside. The universe was telling him something. He just didn’t know what.

“I think we’re ready for paint.”

He looked over his shoulder and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Spring had fully sprung; the days were nearing eighty and the humidity was making itself known. This time of year had always been Nixon’s favorite. The smell of freshly plowed dirt hung in the air and the town was busy getting summer crops in. The trees were green and new life was popping up all around him.

Mandy stood expectantly, waiting for Nixon’s next direction.

The girl had changed so much over the last few months, it was both surprising and beautiful. Gone was the sullen, pissed off, lazy teenager, and in her place was a smiling, funny young woman.

The family picture hanging in the living room hadn’t escaped his notice, either. When he’d brought it up to McKenna, tears had brimmed in her beautiful eyes and she’d told him Mandy had put it up with no explanation.

Nixon didn’t think one was needed; Mandy was on the mend. She was healing and moving on the best she could.

“You guys are finished chipping all the paint off the chicken house already?”

“Yep.”

Nixon was impressed. Mandy and McKenna had shown up with Zack earlier that morning and said they were there to work. Grateful for the extra sets of hands, he set them up with some large, flat putty knives and off they went to scrape off the peeling paint. He’d figured it would’ve been an all-day job, but the women had proven to be hard workers and finished in less time than it would’ve taken him.

“The paint and brushes are in the metal shed,” Nixon told her.

“Thanks.” Mandy turned to leave but stopped short and looked back at Nixon.

After a few beats of silence, she wrung her hands together and Nixon patiently waited for the teenager to gather her thoughts.

“Do you think you could help me clear out the old tack room in our barn?” she asked.

“Sure.”

Again, he waited. She looked like she had more to share. “It’s…um…dirty and I want to use it as a studio so I can paint out there. The window doesn’t open, either. Maybe we can fix the floor, too. I need shelves in there also to store my supplies and stuff. Could you help with that, too?”

“Absolutely.”

Mandy’s beaming smile was breathtaking. Every bit as pretty as her sister’s. “Thanks, Nix.”

“Anytime.”

She nodded and started to walk away when Nixon called out, “Hey, Amanda?”

“Yeah?”

“You know I mean that, right? Anytime. I’m never too busy for you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Her smile was gone but something better was in its place. Understanding.

Nixon’s gaze moved past Mandy to McKenna. His gorgeous woman was standing next to his shabby chicken house that was missing half its paint, in a pair of tattered jeans that clung to her curves and flaunted her perfect ass. And she was smiling. Damn, but he loved her.

A few hours later, the chicken house was repainted and restored to its former glory. Maybe glory was pushing it, it was just an old building, but damn if it didn’t look great. Just like it had when Nixon was a boy. Zack and Jameson had helped him replace some rusted pieces of tin on the roof of one of the barns and now Zack was dragging the old sections to the scrap pile.

Chasin was still on the mower, and even though he’d spent the last few hours on it, he still had more to go. Holden and Weston were working on cutting back branches of the apple trees that lined his lane and cutting down the ones that were dead and would need to be replaced.

Nixon was looking around, amazed at the amount of work that had been done. When he’d first come back to Kent County, he didn’t have a plan. Nix had thought he’d come home, fix the place up, maybe rent the farmhouse out, and go on his way.

Now he couldn’t imagine himself living anywhere else. He’d left home a young man with fire in his belly, thinking he’d never return to the place he’d thought he’d outgrown.