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Chapter Twenty-Four
By the time Spencer returned to his cabin at Sweet Water Falls Farm, the sky had settled into complete blackness. After lunch at Ginger’s, he’d gone to the police station. They wanted to talk to him in person, despite the phone call he’d made before Clarissa’s arrival.
He’d been there for hours, and Clarissa hadn’t left his side once. His gratitude for her had doubled and then tripled.
Then, they’d had dinner at a pavilion behind the farmhouse he hadn’t even known existed. Everyone who worked at the farm had come, and he’d invited everyone at Hope Eternal too. Nate and his family had come, as had Ted and his, Slate and his, and Luke and his. Dallas had been late, because Jess was dealing with a sick baby, and she and the little girl hadn’t come.
Spencer appreciated the outpouring of love from those around him, as it did help to lessen the humiliation and embarrassment continually tugging at the corners of his mind.
As he climbed his steps now, he’d be entering the house alone. If he’d have known how pivotal today would be for him, he might have chosen to stay in bed. He’d truly let go of his father; he’d told Clarissa he loved her; he’d faced the demons within him, their fists cocked above their heads, ready to strike, and he’d chosennotto be that man.
He’d hugged Wayne as tightly as he could for a good long while once dinner had ended, because the man had saved him from himself. The police said they’d be holding his dad in the county jail there in Texas until the authorities could arrive from New Jersey. He could receive visitors between six and eight p.m., and Spencer hadn’t decided if he’d go see his dad or not.
He wouldn’t have any alcohol in jail. No drugs. Three square meals and some time outside. Spencer had never been to jail, but he knew men who had, and they’d survived. They’d come out better than they’d been before. All he could do now was as Nate had said—he wouldn’t give up on his father. He’d choose to believe that people could change, and that his father would be one of them.
Inside the house, Spencer found something amiss immediately. He switched on the lights, his nose working to identify the smell.
Chocolate.
He spotted the plate of cookies on the counter, and his smile lit up the house as he crossed through the living room. Clarissa had been here, though she’d left the family dinner only five minutes before him.
The cookies were frozen solid, and he started to laugh. Of course the woman would have cookies in her freezer. She was nothing if not prepared for every type of emergency.
* * *
Four months later:
Spencer whipped the cream while Clarissa poured the sugar into the pot he’d set over low heat. Watching it dissolve brought him such satisfaction, much like watching his girlfriend lean over her notes for a new recipe.
“Last time,” she mused, studying the page where she’d written all of her notes. Watching the woman brainstorm a recipe had been a fascinating experience for Spencer. “We put in two teaspoons of maple extract, and it was far too much.”
“We should try syrup.” He adjusted the flame under the burner, the thought of his dad never very far from his mind. He’d gone to visit him the night before he’d been taken to New Jersey, and Spencer had experienced the same calming, forgiving, peaceful feeling as he had when his father had fallen in his house, months ago.
There was nothing more Spencer could do. He couldn’t go to Atlantic City to visit in person, so he and Clarissa had been sending emails over the past few months as they’d continued to date. Pictures from the top of Enchanted Rock. Pictures of Spencer with Mighty Mouse, his horse. Pictures of the two of them, grinning at the camera.
“I’m worried it’ll turn back into a congealed mess.” She straightened and looked at him. He smiled at her and shrugged, because he was just the sounding board. He’d mentioned syrup before, and she’d written it somewhere in her organized, yet chaotic, mess of notes.
“Let’s try it,” she said, lifting a bottle of amber liquid from beneath the counter, a teasing glint in her pretty eyes.
He left the whisk in the pot and took her into his arms. “You’re sneaky.” He swayed with her, a sense of love and peace enveloping them. He’d felt the same way when he emailed his dad every week, without fail. His father had been responding too, even if the messages were short and stilted. Spencer had shown them to the boys at Hope Eternal Ranch, and they’d all agreed that Ernest was trying.
He doesn’t know how to be a good father, Nate had said.
He doesn’t know what to say, Slate had added.
He only gets fifteen minutes a few times a week on the computer, Ted had reminded him.
Be patient with him, Luke had said.Sometimes the biggest change comes after someone gets out of prison.
Be patient with yourself too, Dallas had told him.You’ll both get there, one step at a time.
“You’re smart,” she said. “And sexy stirring that ice cream base.”
“You should see yourself bending over that binder.” He leaned down and kissed her, thinking about the diamond he’d hidden in the drawer next to the sink. She’d come back to the farm, and she did the same tasks she’d done previous to her departure. “Talk about smart and sexy.”
He didn’t really need to work in the shoppe too, and it wasn’t part of his official duties anymore. Wayne had been steadily increasing Spencer’s duties at Cooper & Co—the dairy operation on the farm—and decreasing his involvement in the agriculture side.
He’d been learning the ropes from Lee, Will, and Travis, and he had to work hard in a new way. He liked it, and he genuinely liked Clarissa’s brothers. He knew for certain he was happier now than he’d ever been, all because he’d taken a risk and embraced this unexpected relationship. He’d opened his mouth and said something, even when it was hard, in all the relationships in his life.
