Clenching my hands, I said, “I had a dream last night. About Dad.”
Her eyes traded her clear motherly look and shadowed into a lost widow. “Oh?”
“He told me to get my head out of my ass basically.”
She laughed. “Sounds about right.”
“He told me to apologise.”
“There’s nothing to apologise for.”
“There is, and we both know it.” I jammed hands into my pockets, curling the letter I’d written for her. “I’m sick of being so afraid. I’m sick of pushing you guys away. I miss you. I miss how it used to be before…” I looked away. “Before he died. I miss thinking everything would be okay. We lived in miracles back then. He kept surviving, and we kept loving, and I thought it would be that way forever. It’s time I grew up and realised that there is no forever, and that’s…that’s okay.”
Mom came toward me, resting her hand on my forearm. Even that small amount of contact threatened to break me. “It’s okay, Wild One. It’s okay not to want to accept such grief.”
“You’re saying you accept it?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’ll never accept that he’s gone. But I can accept that nothing I do will change that, and I’m only hurting myself by resisting the truth.”
“I love you, Mom. You know that, right?”
She squeezed my arm. “Of course, I know that. I’ll always know that, no matter if you moved across the world and never spoke to me again. And I love you, too, Jacob. Forever. And I can say forever because I believe what your father does. There is no end. There is only a pause. Life is too precious just to finish and not transform into something else.”
I nodded even as a crest of pity crushed me.
Pity for her.
Pity for my mother and her steadfast beliefs that she’d see my father again.
Despite my new conviction to be kinder to the living, I still believed death was final. Dad might watch us; I might have dreams about him, and sometimes indulge in the thought he was out there…somewhere, but where Mom believed love joined them for eternity, I couldn’t handle that sort of hope.
I couldn’t stomach the promise of something else because how utterly soul-destroying would it be to look forward to death, only to find out it was nothing but…well, nothing.
An end.
A true termination.
I was doing my best to come to terms with the fact that nothing was permanent in this world all while my mother believed in new beginnings.
Gritting my teeth, I reached out and hugged her. Hard and fast.
With her fragile form in my arms, I committed all over again to my promise. This woman was everything I had in the world; I would not forsake her by being too weak to care.
I would uphold my vow to my father. I would make her happy. I would stay by her side until the end.
With a kiss on her cheek, I pulled away, fighting the whispers in my blood to keep my distance. “Thank you. For everything.”
I turned and walked swiftly away before it got awkward. Yanking the letter from my pocket, I left it on her dresser as I made my way from the house.
I was drained and tired and a jangled mess of nerves, but I had another apology to make.
Hope.
And somehow, I knew she’d be my hardest.
* * * * *
“I can’t find the ledger book.” Hope looked up as I stepped into the small office off the tack room. The rainbow of ribbons Aunt Cassie had won over the years being a professional equestrian decorated the walls, and her riding photos took up the tiny free space between shelves holding everything a farm could ever need.
Nodding, I strode to the rusty filing cabinet and pulled out the second drawer. I selected the current year’s ledger and passed it to her.
She huffed. “Thanks.”
“Welcome.”
“Cassie told me it was in the desk drawer.”
I shrugged. “I had a sort-out a few months ago. My farm. My filing decisions.”
“Fair enough.” She blew hair from her gaze, hugging the ledger as if it was bullet-proof. “So…”
I rocked on my heels. “So.”
“Um.” She looked at the floor before catching my gaze again. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“You didn’t wait for me like I asked.”
She bit her lip. “Yeah, sorry. I needed to move. I woke with a lot of nervous energy and couldn’t stay on the deck. I didn’t know how long you’d be, so figured I might as well be useful.”
I smiled, genuinely, kindly. There hadn’t been enough of that in my dealings with her. “You’ve been very useful since you’ve been here. I don’t think I’ve said thank you.” My voice deepened with serenity. “Truly, Hope. You’ve been an amazing help.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, well, you’re welcome. Thank you for letting me be a nuisance and hang around.”
“You were never a nuisance.”
She cocked her head. “All right, who are you and what have you done with Jacob Wild?”
I spread my hands. “I’m right here, and the asshole version of me is gone. I owe you an apology. Multiple apologies.”
Slowly, she put the ledger onto the cluttered desk. “Gone? I-I don’t understand.”
I crossed the small space between us. “What I said that day we baled hay—about not wanting to be close, about needing space—I was a jerk. About all of it. I’m doing my best not to be that person anymore.”
She backed away as if my sudden change of heart was more terrifying than my previous surly ways. “Is this about the other day in the feed store?” She sighed. “You don’t owe me an apology, Jacob. I was deliberately pushing your buttons. It was my fault. If anything, I owe you an apology for what I said.”
“It’s not about that. You were right to call me out on my bullshit.”
“No, I’ve been too pushy. Way, way too pushy.”
“Perhaps, but you were right to push me. I needed to be pushed. I, eh…” I cleared my throat. “I needed you.”
She froze. A tiny noise escaped her. “Well, thanks…I guess. That’s very sweet.”
“Sweet?” Reaching out, I brushed aside a strand of glossy chocolate hair that’d come loose from her ponytail. I tried to ignore the way my heart stopped pounding and once again rattled demonically at my ribcage. It wanted out. It wanted her. It wanted a different kind of life. “I’m many things, but I’m not sweet.”
“Jacob, I…” Her green gaze latched onto my lips. She licked her own, ensuring my body reacted in all the wrong and horribly right ways. “I’m not sure what’s going on.”
I dropped my hand. “Let’s just say I woke up with new morals.”
“And these new morals mean what exactly?”
“That I’m done being such a loner.”
She scowled. “You can’t just switch off something like that.”
“I can if it’s hurting those I care about.”
I can try at least.
Her entire body froze. “Don’t do this. Don’t do what you did at the feed store.”
“Do what?”
“Make me believe you actually have feelings when you were pretty successful at proving you didn’t.”
I sighed, hating the way my body shook. Hating the weakness she caused me. The regret she gifted me. “I do have feelings, Hope. They’re just not easy to deal with.”
“Feelings for me?” She winced as if she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “I mean—”
“Feelings for everyone.” I paced in front of her, needing to move before I exploded with the itchy, irritable sensation of allowing emotions to control me. I was so used to switching it off, pushing it away, pretending I felt nothing.
Standing in that office, I drowned in everything.
It was the hardest thing I’d ever done.
Rubbing my throat, I strangled, “Look, it was wrong to chase Carter away. I know that.” My jaw clenched, unwilling to voice my next sentence. “I-I can get his number
for you. If you want. Go out with him. I want you to be happy, Hope. Despite what you think.”
She laughed under her breath. A cynical, cold little laugh. “You still don’t get it, do you?”
I raked a hand through my hair. “I get that I’m still hurting you, and I’m doing my best not to.”
Her eyes glittered for a second before she nodded sharply. “Sorry. Ignore me. I appreciate your offer, Jacob, but no. I don’t want his number.”
“What do you want?” I breathed.
Hope stiffened. I froze. The room became half the size, filling to the roof with tension.
Shit, I shouldn’t have asked that.
She smiled sadly. “I don’t think you want an answer to that question.”
I didn’t know how to reply.
I’d come here hoping this would be easy. But Hope scrambled me up. She made me sweat. Made me churn.
Emotions were cyanide, and distance was the cure.
Cold-hearted cruelty the only antidote.
A single dream about Dad telling me off couldn’t prevent the triggers that’d governed my life since he died. A nudge from my unconsciousness couldn’t fix me.
As much as I wished it could.
I sighed, kicking the leg of the dinged-up table.
What the hell was I thinking?
I’d stupidly woken with the idiotic thought I could be the man Hope wanted. That I could attempt—just attempt—a…relationship with her.
A physical, emotional relationship that would shatter me into smithereens.
But standing there, on the precipice of changing my world forever, I couldn’t do it.
I wasn’t brave enough.
I wasn’t man enough to fall.
Every time she smiled my way or helped with a chore, I desperately wanted to be sane enough to love her.
What wasn’t there to love?
She was a farm girl. A farmer’s girl. A diligent worker who didn’t care about mess and mud and mayhem.
She was perfect.
She was kind and gorgeous and a huge part of my family already.
It should be so easy to love her.
So why was it so fucking hard?
Caskets, cremations, and crying littered my mind, trapping my feelings, caging my love, preventing me from breaking the chains I’d lived within since childhood.
Maybe, I had it wrong.
Instead of being afraid of love…maybe I truly was incapable.
Impotent against the end.
Powerless against forever.
Death was always just around the corner. Slithering in the shadows, selecting its next victim.
I wished I’d known then what was about to happen.
I wished I’d understood how simple this complicated moment was when faced with what my future had in store.
But I didn’t.
And I struggled like a coward, giving up the fight as I settled back into my familiar.
Clamping both hands on my head, I looked at the ceiling and exhaled hard.
Silence fell for an eternal moment before I let my arms tumble to my side and faced Hope with an apology instead of bravery. “There’s something I want to ask you.”
She didn’t know the war I’d just fought. Didn’t understand the conclusions that’d caused bloodshed.
All she knew was I was a master at causing her pain.
“Okay.” Her green gaze travelled to my mouth, hypnotising me with the way she stared. The connection between us lashed tighter than any rope, and I would’ve given anything to grab her. To kiss her again. To pretend I was cured and normal and capable of affection like so many others.
I couldn’t be with her the way she wanted me to be.
But I could offer a better scenario to our current situation.
I could be brave enough to do that.
Please…let me.
Spreading my hands in surrender, I murmured, “I said I didn’t need one, but it turns out…I do.”
“Need what?”
“Someone to call me out on my mess. Someone who’s stubborn and feisty and not afraid of me.”
She smiled softly. “I’m guessing that someone is me?”
“No one else fits that criteria.”
She laughed under her breath, her eyes warming in ways that made knives puncture my chest. “What do you need from me?”
“Something I said I’d never need.”
Her body stilled. “Tell me.”
I swallowed.
And swallowed again.
I couldn’t take this back once I’d said it.
I’d have to find a way to honour it, savour it, not be afraid of it. “A friend. I need a friend.”
“A friend?” She snapped upright.
I nodded firmly. “Yes.”
She couldn’t hide her shock. “I thought you hated that word.”
“I hate what it represents.”
“What does it represent?”
I shrugged, searching for an answer that would make sense but, in the end, just settled on one word. “Pain.”
Her gaze darkened with compassion I hated. “You think being friends with me is going to hurt?”
“I don’t think. I know.”
“Why?”
I sighed. “Because I’ll care for you. I’ll like you. I’ll get used to having you around.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“Terrible.”
She fell quiet for a moment before murmuring, “Then why put yourself through it?”
“Because I’m sick of pushing people away.”
“Oh.”
“I love my family, but they don’t see me like you do. They don’t drive me crazy like you.”
She smirked. “I do have a good talent at that.”
“You do.” I half-chuckled. “So…do you agree?”
“To be your friend?”
“To be my friend.”
She nudged her boot into the dirt, thoughts racing over her face. “And when I go back home? What then?”
Something hot and sharp dug talons directly into my heart. The harsh possessiveness to keep those I cared about close so I could protect them from everything—prevent them from death—killed me already. “Then I’ll miss you. I’ll hurt. But life moves on and…and well, nothing is permanent. Not life, not love, and not friendship.”
Hope frowned. “Life might not be permanent, but the other two things are.”
“No. They’re not.” Pacing away, I found an old pair of baling gloves on the desk and pulled them on, ready to sell hay to city folk. “When it comes to this argument, you won’t win. Love and friendship are fleeting things. Some last years. Some last days. But in the end, they all end. I’ve struggled with this my whole life. Don’t try to ruin my acceptance when I’m still not sure I can.”
Hope bit her lip. Her tiny boots brought her closer to me. “Can I ask one question, and then I’ll shut up about all of this.”
“Fine. What is it?”
A pink blush worked its way over her cheeks, transforming her from pretty to breath-taking. I wanted so, so much to kiss her. But this was as far as I could go. I knew my limits.
“This friendship…could it eventually be…more?”
The clock ticked loudly in the dusty corner while I worked out the best way to reply. While I worked out how to tell the truth, all while wishing it was a lie. “No.”
“Okay.” She sniffed but nodded bravely. “I just needed to ask.”
“Friends. That’s all.”
“I get it.”
“No, I don’t think you do. But that’s okay.” I moved forward and took her pipsqueak hand in my huge glove. “Friends is already asking a lot of me. I don’t want to hurt you worse by failing at giving you more.”
Her smile was understanding and pure. “I understand, Jacob.”
“Thank you.” I squeezed her hand, switching it into a slightly awkward handshake. “Friends?”
She squeezed me back. “Friends.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Hope
* * * * * *
A MONTH.
One glorious month where life was full of perfect, wondrous, brilliant moments.
A month when I grew up, learned about hard work, basked in the joy of diving into the pond after a long sweaty day, and swelling with pride of growing my own vegetables. Not to mention the indescribable honour of Jacob Wild accepting me.
My friend.
He liked me for me.
He’d let down a wall…for me.
My previous weeks at Cherry River were nothing, nothing compared to that month. To be honest, I didn’t believe Jacob could switch overnight and trade snappish temper with calm rationality.
But…he did.
I’d catch him a couple of times with locked jaw and grinding teeth as he held back retorts no longer welcome. I caught glimpses of hurting eyes and worried soul as he fought the urge to run, but through it all, he remained true to his promise to be my friend.
And not just I benefited.
His entire family did.
Nina was encouraged to come hang out with us and became a friend I would happily stay in touch with when I left.
Della was invited to Jacob’s house for dinner more often.
John and Chip weren’t kept at arm’s length, and I’d often hear the rumble of masculine laughter coming from the tractor shed as the men did their best to fix broken engines.
Summer had been kind to Cherry River with endless long, warm, sunny days, and somehow, with Jacob’s smile, the proverbial cloud lifted from this place, and a new chapter began.
One that I hoped wouldn’t just last for one book but for always. This place needed true happiness. The veil of perpetual grief needed to be shredded.
It wasn’t that I didn’t understand or honour the hole left by Ren’s death, but this place couldn’t continue to be a graveyard. Della had to remember how to laugh without tears. Jacob had to learn how to live without fear. And everyone else had to be free to be joyful without drowning in guilt.
A little piece of healing happened.
Life wasn’t as painful.
Or at least, it wasn’t for the Wilds.
For me, though?
The pain only grew worse.
Jacob.
He treated me with such kindness now. His smiles were genuine and his gratefulness true and that made my life that much harder. I had no arguments left to keep my heart safe behind a fence.
The Son & His Hope Page 31