Page 25 of Blue Jean Summer

“Thank God,” he said with a shake of his head. “I was ready to marry you if it meant keeping Lewis from running this place.”

I laughed. “You would have looked great in a white dress.”

Mason stroked his beard with a smirk. “I would, wouldn’t I?” He paused. “So, you’re actually going through with this?”

“She’s moving in tomorrow. We’ll come up with a plan to make it work, but she’s easygoing. It shouldn’t be a big deal.”

Mason nodded. “You couldn’t have picked better, but you definitely could have gotten worse.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” I said. A rust-colored horse with a stark white patch on its forehead poked its head over a stall door. I had seen the animal grazing in the paddock, but it didn’t act like a racehorse. “Who’s this?”

“That’s Maisey—one of the estate horses. She’s a real sweetheart. Walt got her right before his second stroke.” Mason sighed. “He never got to ride her.”

I opened my palm and let her sniff me up and down. “Hey, darlin’.”

Maisey took a particular interest in my cuff links.

“I’ll bring a treat next time.” I slowly stroked her neck, showing her that I was gentle and trustworthy, but Maisey didn’t seem to need any get-to-know-you time. She practically trembled in delirious delight.

“Take her out whenever you want. She’d like that,” Mason said. “Just be careful. She’s sweet, but she’s not exactly…reliable.”

Nostalgia washed over me as I glanced toward the tack room. Elvis had always been the horse I gravitated toward, but a new challenge was just what I needed.

Chapter 8

Catherine

“This is it?” Hayes stood beside the bumper of my car with his arms crossed.

I laughed as I looked at the few suitcases I had thrown into the back seat. “I have a storage unit in town. I can go back if need be. Bringing every evening gown I own, my couch, or my kitchen appliances and cookware would have been overkill.”

“There’s plenty of closet space,” Hayes said as he opened the door and reached for the first suitcase.

I stopped him with my hand on his arm and glanced around. “Is Lewis here right now?”

“No. He left after breakfast. Not sure when he’ll be back, though.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Hayes’s posture softened. “I should be asking you that. You have a choice in this. I don’t.”

“There’s always a choice, Hayes.”

His eyes were tired. “Not for me.”

“Then I’m in,” I said with delusion worn in place of confidence when “fake it till you make it” was the only mantra I could hold on to. “It’s only a couple months anyway. That’s really not that long.” I looked around. “And I love it out here. I think I could use a break from the chaos.”

His expression softened. It was the same look he had shared with me the day of the funeral when we hid outside the kitchen door. “Are you doing alright? You know—after moving out of your mom’s place?”

Rocks and sand abraded my throat as I swallowed. I had cried. I had pleaded with the universe for one more day with her. I cursed whatever higher power was out there, wondering why she had been taken from me too soon.

Then, like Hayes, I had to start running the marathon. Funeral arrangements had to be made. And why were caskets so freaking expensive?

I had to pack her clothes. The garments she had worn in her last days went in the same boxes as the outfits she wore in my favorite memories.

I had to sell off the medical equipment we had bought to make hospice more comfortable. It was sickening to take money in exchange for equipment someone else would have to use while they survived the last days of their loved one’s life.

I had to pack up the pots and pans she used to make my favorite meals when I would come to visit, and the sewing machine she used to make all my pageant dresses.