He tensed. Our eyes tangled. And in that stare, I saw everything he didn’t want to say. Everything he would never say. The fact that he did feel something for me. Felt something that terrified him enough to stay far away.
“That was said in anger, forget it. I’m not asking you to go.” He ran a hand over his face, smearing a streak of dirt. “I’m just asking for…space.”
“Space?”
“For the time being, yes.”
“Can I still work with you?”
“Yes.”
“Can I still talk to you?”
“Of course.”
“What about hanging out with your mother and family?”
“I want you to hang out with them. They’re amazing people.”
“Then…” My heart had never hurt so much. “How is that not a friendship, Jacob? How can we spend all those hours together and not be bound in some sort of connection?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged as if it grieved him to have people love him. As if he already mourned the love that could be stolen. “I just know I can’t care for you the way you want me to. I don’t like how it scrambles me up inside. I don’t like being so mean to you. That isn’t me and it sucks that I keep being cruel when you’re only trying to be kind.”
I pocketed those sentences. I bottled up that pain. I saved them for the day I’d walk away from Jacob Wild and entertain a proper job—a job I was more suited to than playing a farmer’s hired hand.
I didn’t know what to say.
Jacob scuffed his boot into the earth. “I’ve been thinking about this all week. It’s been driving me insane. I can’t lie and say that kiss wasn’t amazing. It was. It caught me off guard. It showed me…how easy it could be to—” He shook his head. “Anyway, I hope…I hope I haven’t hurt you. I’m sorry I’ve been so rude to you. It’s just…I can’t cope with closeness the way other people can.” His ebony eyes met mine. “Can...can you understand that?”
I gritted my teeth, doing my best not to show how badly he’d decimated me. The belief I’d held since we were kids slowly dissolved, fading away like smoke.
He’d finally been honest with me and instead of appreciating that, I wanted to hurt him back.
I wanted to yell, ‘Please love me!’ Instead, I forced myself to be better than the broken anger inside me. Dropping my gaze, I whispered, “I’ll always be your…um, not-friend. For as long as you let me stay.”
I had no backbone but only because he’d stolen it. Just like he’d stolen my lungs, my heart, my soul. He’d stolen them so many years ago, yet he didn’t want them. He’d never asked for them or given his in return. And although I ached for a heart and begged for a soul and wished for a backbone, I had no idea how to claim them back.
“I’ll be a good host to you from now on. I promise.” He smiled. “I won’t be so…argumentative.”
“Oh, well, that’s a relief.” I did my best to laugh when all I wanted to do was cry.
I’d lost.
I’d failed.
It was over.
“Guess we better get back to work.” He gave me a haphazard, half-hearted grin before turning and striding toward the trailer. His shoulders came up, a curse falling from his lips. “Ah, shit.”
I moved to follow him, my instinct to help still strong, but then I caught sight of what he had.
At the real reason he’d cursed.
And it wasn’t because of me.
Della, Cassie, John, Chip, Nina, and even my dad made their way through the gate and toward us in the field.
What on earth?
Della had said she’d come help, but I hadn’t expected the entire family. And I definitely didn’t expect my father. When had he arrived? What was he doing here?
Please, don’t be here to take me home.
Even though it made sense to leave. Even though it would probably be for the best, the thought of no longer living at Cherry River snaked terror around my heart.
I wasn’t ready to go. I would never be ready to go.
Even if Jacob and I forever remained nothing more than neighbours, I loved this place too much to turn my back on it.
“He didn’t say he was coming.” I slipped to Jacob’s side, waving at the workforce coming to aid us. “He’s not exactly dressed for this kind of work. He won’t last ten bales.”
Jacob gave me a strained smile. “You sound more and more like me every day.” With a soft chuckle, he added, “You’re getting possessive of the land, thinking others can’t care for it as well as you, wanting to protect it.”
I eyed him. “Is that why you didn’t want me working with you?”
His gaze slid to the horizon and the endless heavens above. “One of the reasons.”
I desperately wanted to ask what the other reasons where. But I couldn’t handle more bitter honesty tonight.
Jacob sucked in a breath and strode forward, welcoming the new labourers.
And I followed him, patching up my broken pieces, being the brave little actress I was born to be.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Jacob
* * * * * *
“SO YOU’VE BEEN keeping Hope busy, I take it?”
I looked up from stabbing the roast chicken Grandpa John had made. Hope’s dad sat amongst my family for dinner, thinking he belonged but definitely didn’t.
Last night, we hadn’t finished bucking hay until well after midnight. The pizzas Mom had delivered to the barn kept us going until the last trailer load, then we’d all crashed into our respective beds, with Graham in the hotel he’d booked under an alias (no way was he sleeping in my mom’s house).
I’d been jealous of the relieved groans upon finishing. The achy muscles and tired waves goodbye.
That should’ve been me.
I wanted the bruises and blisters.
I wanted the sweat and blissful sensation of a cold shower after such hot, hard work. Instead, Mom and Grandpa John had ganged up on me, threatening to tie me to the TV for a week of forced rehabilitation if I didn’t drive the tractor while they had the fun job.
It unmanned me.
It made me feel lacking and argumentative and unneeded.
I hated that they’d known about my injury all along.
Couple that with the stress of telling Hope I couldn’t be what she wanted me to be…yeah, I hadn’t slept.
Then again, I hadn’t slept since I kissed her.
“Busy in what way?” I asked coldly. “We’ve both been very busy.” I meant to sound indifferent, but the sentence reeked of a challenge. As if I’d hinted Hope and I had been busy doing other things.
Goddammit.
I couldn’t trust myself anymore.
I couldn’t even speak without second-guessing everything I said.
Hope’s face heated beside her father as she gave me a small shake of her head. “I’ve been helping Jacob do some chores, that’s all.”
“That’s not all,” Mom cut in. “She’s been working so hard. Look at those biceps. If I didn’t know she came from Hollywood, I would’ve said she’d always been a farmer’s girl.”
Graham narrowed his eyes. “I said the same thing to her last night.” He gave me a glare. “As long as she’s a girl who farms and isn’t a farmer’s girl, it’s great.”
Hope shrank deeper into her seat.
I knew what Graham was hinting at.
And God, the temptation to claim she was mine, to announce we’d made out like animals danced on my tongue.
But I was no longer that guy. I’d done my utmost to be civil to her yesterday and I refused to continue making her life difficult.
Our fights only drew painful emotion from me when all I wanted was to treat her just like any hired help—safe and distant.
She wasn’t mine.
She would never be mine.
That was the way I wanted it.
The way I needed it.
With a quick glance at Hope, I said, “She’s whatever she wants to be.”
Hope flinched, her gaze welling with all the agony I’d painted her with yesterday. I hadn’t wanted to hurt her. In a way, she’d hurt herself. Not once did I encourage her crush on me. I’d done the opposite. I’d been cruel and short-tempered, and really, this mess was her fault.
However, it didn’t stop the fact that I’d been in hell ever since our kiss.
Literal, physical hell.
Fighting myself, my heart, my body’s need for connection. Her taste still tainted my tongue. Her breathy moans. Her eager fingers. Her sweet tongue.
I could barely function.
I obsessed over her.
I broke because of her.
She’d shown me how easy it would be to fall. Way, way too easy to allow my heart to kill me.
The week we’d worked side by side in silence, I’d beaten myself up for the way I’d treated her. I’d relived every fight and replayed our kiss over and over and over until all I could think about was her.
And that was the worst thing I could ever do.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
I couldn’t stop the hunger.
It drove me insane, and I lost myself to it.
I’d known I couldn’t tolerate one drop of affection without breaking, and I’d been right. A single dose of togetherness and I was willing to cut open my chest and tell Hope to take whatever she goddamn wanted because it was all useless anyway.
But then the nightmares started.
The living breathing torments of her coughing, her dying, her gone.
And it hurt.
So fucking much.
And I wasn’t strong enough.
For any of it.
So I’d plotted my way out of purgatory and shut down such needy desires. I locked away that compulsion for human connection and remembered that love became loss, weddings became funerals, families became dust.
That helped me yesterday when I finally got up the balls to tell her that I would be polite from now on. I would be helpful and gracious and do whatever it took to make her stay the best it could be.
But that was all I could offer her.
No more arguments.
No more kisses.
Just civil, meaningless interaction where neither of us got hurt.
Graham turned to his daughter. “And what do you want to be, Little Lace?”
She gulped, pretending cutting a piece of broccoli was way more involved than reality. “Um, not sure.”
I hated that I knew she had no other family. That it was just her and her dad. No grandparents, no uncles or aunts.
I was the loner yet I had a family that didn’t let me stay alone. Whereas she was the quintessential family lover with only one.
“She wants to work the land,” I murmured, unable to tear my eyes from Hope. “She’s good at it too. You should buy her a hobby farm and let her do whatever she wants with it.”
Graham stiffened. “She could buy her own. She has her own income.” Looking at his daughter with pride, he said, “You know, Steve has been asking when you’ll be back. He has a role in a crime show he thinks would be perfect for you. The lead.”
I couldn’t stop watching Hope, and I didn’t miss the way she tensed but grinned as bright as the stars. “That sounds great. Thanks.”
“Want me to tell him you’ll audition for it?”
“Um…” Hope placed the broccoli on her tongue, giving herself time to reply. After she’d chewed for far longer than necessary, she said quietly, “Can I, um, think about it? There’s still so much to do here, and…and I’d like to stay a bit longer, if that’s okay?”
Graham jerked as if he wasn’t expecting such a reply. But then he nodded sadly. “You don’t want to come home.”
Everyone stilled.
Hope stared at her plate. “It’s not that. I’m beyond grateful you came to see me. That you helped us last night. It’s amazing to see you, and I love you so much, but…eh—” Her gaze shot to my mother’s, begging her for help.
A strange kind of possessiveness clawed me. She looked at Mom for help. She’d accepted my desire to stay distant and didn’t expect me to fight her battles.
Goddammit, that hurt.
How did I stop it from hurting?
How did I turn off emotions when they were the worst thing in the world?
Mom cleared her throat. “It’s not that she doesn’t want to go home, Graham. She’s just too kind-hearted to leave in the middle of a busy summer.” Her attempt at damage control couldn’t hide the stares father and daughter gave each other. The admittance from Hope that she wasn’t into acting. And the disappointment from Graham for finally seeing what he’d ignored all along.
“Besides, Jacob hurt his back. He’s healing, but Hope has been invaluable. It’s fine if she stays with us,” Mom murmured. “For however long she wants.”
Graham looked up, smiling gently. “That’s very kind of you, Ribbon.”
Wait…what the—?
Gasps sounded around the table.
My hands fisted around my knife and fork.
Ribbon was my father’s nickname.
Ribbon was full of love and marriage and history.
Ribbon was a name no one else was allowed to use.
It was buried, just like he was.
What the hell was this jackass doing, using something that wasn’t his to use? That would never be his?
Mom shot me a worried glance. John reached over and planted his big paw over my shaking fist. Aunt Cassie hushed up Nina, and Chip took a swig of beer.
But it was Graham who stopped me from launching across the table and punching him.
“Sorry.” He held up his hands. “I didn’t mean to use that. It came out. Habit from the movie, I’m afraid.” He bowed his head, true contrition in his gaze. “Sorry, Della. I know what that nickname means, and it wasn’t my intention to—”
“It’s fine.” Mom grinned, not doing a very good job at hiding the faint gleam of tears. “Been a long time since I’ve heard that. It’s…it’s just a shock, that’s all.”
Graham hunched. “My mistake. I won’t do it again.”
He was right because after this dinner—a dinner thanking everyone for their help hauling last night—Graham was going back to Hollywood, and I wished he’d take his daughter with him.
I wanted my farm back.
I wanted my life back.
I wanted an end to this pain.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Hope
* * * * * *
“LET ME CARRY that.”
I shook my head, walking away from Jacob with the heavy sack of horse feed in my arms. “Nuh-uh, I can manage.”
Ever since Dad left three days ago, Jacob and I had fallen into a different rhythm. Trying on new personas to see which would cause the least amount of friction, while pretending we were okay with whatever mess existed between us.
There were so many things we hadn’t addressed—topics that were banished to a coffin of unmentionables, just like my questions on death. Life had moved on, pretending to be simple but really paving a treacherous road over complicated.
I’d seen him watching me as I’d kissed Dad goodbye.
I’d kept watching him as Dad kissed me in return.
His body clamped up, his lips thinned, his eyes became unreadable.
But I could read him.
He saw so many kisses.
He saw so much affection.
He saw endless ways to be hurt.
And he’d shut down even more.
His withdrawal made me miss my dad a lot.
I wanted advice. I wanted acceptance. Working beside my father until well past midnight the other day—laughing at his city ways and doting on his exhaustion of hauling hay—all reminded me that love wasn’t something to be fought.
It was something to be valued, appreciated, protected.
But once again, I’d hurt him just like I’d hurt Jacob.
I’d hurt two men just by being myself.
> I wasn’t my father’s Little Lace anymore. And I wasn’t leaving like Jacob wanted.
All in all, I was a disappointment to everyone.
How sad was that? So sad that neither men could understand I didn’t intentionally cause them pain.
I was just being me.
I was growing into who I wanted to be.
If others didn’t like that…where did that leave me?
Alone?
Not wanted?
Forever having to fake who I was to please them?
Jacob huffed. “It weighs as much as you do.”
“As if you know how much I weigh.”
He stalked toward me, eyeing me up and down. Before I could get out of his way, he scooped me from the ground and held me and the sack of feed. “Yep, just as I suspected. Same as the grain.”
“Hey, put me down.” I wriggled in his embrace, making him stiffen.
He dropped me to my feet, then plucked the feed from my grip without any effort. Meanwhile, my body tingled from where he’d touched me, and I felt a hundred times heavier with need.
I could stay at Cherry River my entire life. I could hang around with Jacob until I was old and grey and a total spinster with a hundred cats, yet he still wouldn’t drop his guard for anything more than polite acquaintances.
However, the fact he’d just willingly touched me in a public place was shocking. But then again, the reason he had wasn’t.
He was old-fashioned; raised with a gentleman’s code even if it was a little outdated. Now his back was on the mend, he didn’t let me do any heavy lifting. If he deemed me too fragile for a task, he grew gruff and bossy until I let him do it.
To start with, I’d fought for equality.
In the end, I’d given up.
It wasn’t worth the argument even though I was more than capable.
Crossing my arms, standing in the middle of the massive warehouse where tractor parts, fence equipment, veterinary supplies, and stock feed loomed high on industrial shelving, I narrowed my eyes. “If you’ve taken yet another job from me, what exactly is there left to do before we go home?”
Home.
Cherry River was only a ten-minute drive away, but I missed it already.
I missed its open spaces and blue skies and peaceful serenity.
The Son & His Hope Page 28