Page 34 of Show Me

“You worried?”

I glance at Delilah, at the way she moves to shield them, at Samson’s steady watch from the corner.

“Always,” I admit. “First few days are the hardest.”

He studies me. “Hog farmer’s daughter. Thought you’d be used to it.”

“They’re not inventory to me.” He doesn’t interrupt. “Samson and Delilah are my babies. I’ve had them since they were born. And it’s different when you know what can go wrong.” The words hang in the air. I don’t mean to say more but the words come out anyway. “My mom died having me.”

Silence fills the room. Why did I say that?

Xavier straightens. “I didn’t know that.”

“Not many people do.” Delilah nudges a piglet closer. “Complications. Rural hospital. Dad was alone with a newborn and a farm full of animals that didn’t care he was grieving.”

I swallow hard over the lump in my throat. Not that I miss her. I didn’t even know her. But I miss what other people had. A normal life. A mother that braided a little girl’s hair. Gentle hands to rub your back when you have a nightmare.

Not that it was awful. Dad is great. It’s just…. Complicated.

“That’s why you’re worried,” he says. It’s not a question.

I nod as he steps into the room, careful where he places his boots, and crouches beside me—not touching. Just there.

“They’re lucky to have you.” The certainty in his voice hits deeper than it should.

“They’re pigs.”

He shakes his head. “They’re yours, and you’re taking good care of them.”

Delilah grunts, settling. The piglets quiet.

For a moment, everything narrows to warm straw, soft sounds, and Xavier. I wasn’t expecting his support, but it’s nice to have.

The chocolates don’t follow me back here. Neither does the question of who sent them.

Chapter Seventeen

Ruby

Monday Morning

The morning air bites just enough to wake me up before the coffee does. I balance my phone between my shoulder and ear as I pull into the gym parking lot. “I’m telling you, it was weird.”

Emily sighs into the line. “Yeah, weird like check your locks weird.”

“No. Small-town weird,” I say. “Probably.”

“You got a package with no return address. With your name and address in block letters.”

“It was chocolates, Em. Not a severed finger. Someone wrote the letters, not cut out of newspapers and magazines.” I shiver despite the warmth of the coffee surging through me.

“Low bar.”

I grab my bag and head inside, phone cocked between my shoulder and ear. “It’s probably Brent. He’s asked me out several times and even though I’ve said no, he still finds a way to hover around me. He probably decided sugar would improve his odds.”

“If chocolate guaranteed a date, every single guy in town would be camped outside Chloe’s Bakery.”

“Not hardly.” Xavier’s face flashes into my head, and I shove it away. He’d never have to resort to chocolate to get a date. And he’d never give me chocolate. If anything, I’m like his best friend’s little sister. Only, I don’t have a brother. Or a sister.