by Ali Parker
When I pulled up to the nursing home, I popped the collar on my jacket and ducked my head against the sheets of rain dumping down.
I was there to speak to my mom. I could keep agonizing about the technicalities of this situation later.
The door opened as I ran up the steps, and a nurse held it for me while also handing me a towel to dry off. “Mr. Stark, we’re so happy you decided to come today. Your mom is going to be thrilled to see you. She’s having an excellent day.”
“Thank you.” I felt the first bit of warmth and hope I’d felt in what seemed like forever when she said what she did. “Where is she?”
“Watching the rain from the sunroom.” The nurse smiled. “She said sunrooms would be a waste if we only ever use them when the weather is good.”
“That sounds like something she would say.” I laughed, and it felt like my face might crack from disuse of so many of the muscles even after only such a short time. “I can find my own way. Thanks for the door and the towel.”
She nodded. “You’re very welcome. We’re always glad to see cars coming up the drive on days like this. The weather gets everyone down, and a visit is a wonderful way to lift our residents’ spirits again.”
An immense tide of gratefulness came over me, but it brought shame and regret in its wake. “I’m sorry I don’t visit more often when it’s like this. I’ll try to in the future.”
Patting my arm with a kind smile on her face, she motioned down the passage. “You’re here today, dear. Go to her. I hope you have a nice visit.”
With another nod, she turned and headed in the opposite direction. I found my mom sitting in an armchair with a cup of tea in one hand and a checkered blanket over her legs. It reminded me of the way she used to sit watching the rain at home, but that reminded me of Haven’s story of being homeless and finding shelter under the rocks on that trail.
My heart nearly caved in on itself, but I shoved all that shit way down deep. This was not the time for those kinds of feelings.
I plastered a smile on my face, but my mother’s dropped as soon as she saw me. “Oh, no. What’s wrong, honey?”
“How do you know something’s wrong?” I asked as I bent over to brush a kiss to her temple.
She arched a gray brow at me, pursing her lips. “I’ve always known when something’s wrong with you. Call it mother’s intuition.”
The nurse had been right. Mom definitely was having a lucid day. Not that I made a habit of lying to her anyway, but it was the last thing I could do now. It would only make her doubt her own mind even more.
“Remember that girl I told you about?” I asked, taking a seat in an armchair kitty corner to hers. When she nodded, I sighed and squeezed the back of my neck. “We had a fight. I think it’s over between us.”
Sympathy filled her eyes and she reached out to take my hand. I gave it to her but couldn’t help the shock that coursed through me when I felt how much thinner hers was. Her touch seemed infinitely frailer than even the last time I’d been here.
The realization was like having an elephant jump into my chest and sit its ass down on my heart. I tried swallowing it back, but fuck.
Mom cocked her head at me. “It’s never over if you have to say the word ‘think’ in the same sentence as those words. You can still fix it then. Tell me what’s going on. Maybe there’s still some wisdom in this old brain for you yet.”
The elephant lifted its feet off the floor and bounced, making it hard to even breathe. “I’m writing an article about the clinic she works at. I didn’t tell her before, but I asked for her help with it and now she thinks I’ve been lying to her all along.”
A soft chuckle burst out of her as she shook her head at me. “Of course, she thinks that. Why weren’t you honest with her and why are you still working on the article at all if it caused such problems between you two?”
“I’m writing the article because I need the money to help pay the bills,” I admitted without going into any details about which bills I needed help paying. Before she had time to let my words sink in, I dug into the inner pocket of my jacket and extracted the folded sheets of paper. “I was actually hoping you’d look over the article for me. Tell me what you think.”
Her gaze flicked around the interior of the sunroom, meaning that she’d already figured out which bill I’d been referring to. But then she sighed and held out a bony hand. “Let me have it. We’ll talk about the bills afterward.”
I gave her the article, taking the time while she unfolded and read it to come up with an excuse about the bill. She knew I’d moved, so maybe I could blame it on the condo or something. Anything except for the nursing home.
She’d hardly started reading when her gaze snapped up to mine, her eyes filled with horror and disbelief. “You can’t publish this.”
“Why not?” I frowned. “I’ve published a hundred like it.”
“EM Martinez was the man who saved your life when that horse nearly killed you, Colton,” she whispered after starting to choke up on the first few words.
My jaw went slack. “I thought his name was Marco.”
“Yes. Eduardo Marco Martinez.” Just like Haven had done, she crumbled the paper in her hand before dropping it into the wastebasket next to her chair. “What did you say was the name of this girl you were seeing?”
“Haven.” I blinked when realization slowly started dawning. “Fuck. Do you really think two and two equals four?”
“It always does,” she said. “Marco’s daughter was there that day. Do you remember? Her name was Haven, Colton. Haven Martinez.”
Fuck me sideways. The elephant crushing my chest turned into a freight train that left me completely flattened. “Mom, I…” I shook my head.
I didn’t even know where to begin. The probability of me running into the daughter of the man who saved my life so many years later seemed so remote that it was almost impossible to believe it could’ve happened.
Not only had I run into her, but I’d slept with her, cared about her. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized it fit with everything she’d told me about her family. She’d said her father had died in an accident, which that day definitely had been. She’d told me about how they’d moved away after but had lived here briefly at the time.
Mom had tried to look up Marco’s family a few weeks after it happened. The owner of the farm said they had moved away. We’d searched for years so we could thank them at the very least, but they had no family the owner knew of and we didn’t have the money to appoint someone professional to trace them.
Eventually, Mom had started making small donations to her church whenever she could in his honor.
I felt the blood draining from my face when that part of the puzzle clicked into place. Making donations in his honor.
“What do I do now?” I asked, feeling more lost than I ever had in my entire fucking life. “How do I begin to make up for this? Mom, I already published one article about him. I wrote every bit of speculation I could think of into it to try and draw the donor out.”
Her jaw tightened, but she sat up straighter and took my hand again. “You start by not publishing this. Shred whatever copies you have, and if you’ve sent it anywhere electronically, you take a bat to that person’s computer if they refuse to delete it.”
I didn’t bother telling her they’d be able to access the file on a different computer anyway. Her point came across loud and clear, and I completely agreed with the sentiment.
“You’re absolutely sure it’s him?” I asked. I already knew the answer, but fuck, what were the odds?
Mom rolled her eyes and gave me a self-deprecating smile. “I may be losing my memory, darling, but I will never forget the name of the man who gave me your life. Eduardo Marco Martinez is the reason you’re sitting here today, and I will be grateful to him for that until I take my very last breath.”
Chapter 33
HAVEN
“Haven!” Layla’s voice filtered into my mopey, scatte
red thoughts as I washed up after examining a stray dog that had been brought in. “Where are you, honey?”
“I’m in here,” I called from the office, smiling for the first time that day. I was taking it one step at a time, though.
At least I was smiling. It’d been two days since Kayla had taken me out for that piece of cake and one day since she’d asked the owner of those puppies to bring them in for a visit. Bringing Layla was obviously Kayla’s attempt at making me smile for today, and I was overcome with gratitude toward my friend for inviting her. “I’ll be right out. I’m just washing off some drool.”
Her laughter bounced from the walls. “By all means, darling, take your time. I want to hug the daylights out of you, but I’d prefer if you weren’t covered in drool.”
“You know you’d hug her even if every inch of her was drenched in the stuff,” Kayla said, and I could practically hear her eyes rolling all the way back into her head.
My smile widened when Layla laughed again. “That’s true, but she’s already in the process of washing it off so it’s a moot point.”
“Moot point, schmoot point,” Kayla argued. “You’ll want to hug her even more when you hear about the drool she was covered in by the way. Someone picked up a stray dog this morning and brought them in. Haven treated him free of charge and then found him a foster home within ten minutes. Now tell me you still mind the drool.”
“Haven, get out here or I’m coming in there!” Layla yelled.
I laughed as I wiped the last suds of soap off on my pants and jogged toward the waiting room. Layla’s eyes were filled with tears when she turned to see me coming in, and she threw her arms around me with total abandon.
Hugging me so tight she nearly cracked a rib or two, she stroked my hair and murmured into my hair. “Oh, darling. Your heart is too good for this world. I’m so glad you came into our lives. We needed someone like you on ground level.”
Kayla snorted, but when she spoke, she couldn’t hide being close to tears herself. “What my mother means is that she needed help on the ground because she floats so far above it all.”
“What Kayla means is that she loves you and appreciates working with someone whose passion rivals ours,” Layla choked out before letting me go. Heavy droplets clung from her lashes, but she was smiling about as wide as she could. “Now. I didn’t come here to cry all over you. Grab your things. Kayla said you don’t have any appointments this afternoon, so we’re going somewhere.”
“Thanks, but I really shouldn’t. We already closed up early the other day to go stuff our faces with cake and coffee. With that wretched article coming out any day now, I need to get to know as many people as I can.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer, lovely,” she said. “You can either come willingly, or we can pick you up and carry you. It’s up to you.”
Kayla flipped her hair over her shoulder with excitement shining in her eyes. “Trust me. She’s not kidding, but I promise you’re going to want to see this.”
I showed them my palms in surrender, inclining my head. “Fine, but if the emergency line rings, we’ll have to head back.”
She nodded. “You have our word.”
“Excellent.” Layla grinned and immediately shooed us out to her car. She’d parked her bright yellow SUV right in front of the clinic and ushered us in before hopping into the driver’s seat. “I think you’re really going to like where we’re taking you. I’ve been working on it for a while now.”
“What is it?” I couldn’t deny my curiosity was definitely piqued. Mother and daughter exchanged satisfied smiles, which made suspicion seep in. “What have you two done?”
“Something I’m extremely proud of,” Layla replied before steering the conversation in a different direction. She refused to answer any more of my questions for the rest of the drive, choosing instead to give me a coy smile before she continued chatting about whatever it was she’d been talking about at the time.
About twenty minutes out from the clinic, we pulled up at a plot of land. Layla turned off of the main road and followed a dirt path for a few more minutes before driving beneath an arched sign that read “Dream Farm.”
Unlike so many similar signs I’d encountered at my clients’ places, this one didn’t look aged. Red paint gleamed in the sun and the black lettering also looked brand new.
I shot them each a puzzled glance. “What is this place?”
Kayla twisted around in the passenger seat to face me, her eyes wet again for some reason. “What do you think about it so far?”
Still frowning, I turned to look out the window beside me. Large paddocks lined the gravel lane we were on. Sky-high trees were planted between the road and the wooden fencing, the leaves green and dense at this time of year.
In front of us was a modestly sized farmhouse with a red roof and a bright yellow door. Four steps led up to it, and there were two chairs out on the wraparound porch. One of those egg-shaped reading chairs that I’d only ever admired in store windows and magazines hung on the other side of the door.
I could only imagine what it must be like to crawl into it with a good book at the end of the day, watching the leaves change and the sun set. A soft sigh came out of me, and I made a wish on a puffy cloud that one day, I’d get to do just that in a setting just like this one.
On either side of the paddocks, there were fields with horses grazing and running free. I counted at least eight, and another sigh escaped. “Honestly? I love it. It’s perfect. Who lives here? Is it a new client?”
“Nope.” Layla parked at the bottom of the stairs, then took my hand as we walked up to the door. When we reached it, Kayla came up on my other side, and together, they spun me around to take in the view.
“It’s funny you should ask who lives here,” Layla said. “Because I hope it’s going to be you soon.”
I had been about to breathe in, but I nearly choked on the air going down my windpipe. “What? How? I could never afford this place, even if it was on the market. I doubt it is though, since a lot of it seems newly painted.”
“You don’t have to afford it because it already belongs to you,” Kayla murmured, lowering her head to my shoulder. “It was newly painted so you could move in right away if you want to, but we left everything else as-is so you could do with it whatever you wanted to.”
My mind spun out and I still couldn’t breathe. Before I could say anything, her mother picked up where she had left off. “I’m giving you this land, darling. There’s no use arguing about accepting it either. I’ve already had it registered in your name.”
“Why?” I whispered, my throat too tight for my voice to work properly. I couldn’t even fathom that what they were saying could possibly be true, never mind try to formulate an appropriate response.
Layla squeezed my hand. “Your story of struggle and overcoming was enough for me to know that you deserved this. I’ve been listening to Kayla talk about you and all the amazing little things you do for the community every day. Most people might not even know about it, but I do.”
“That doesn’t mean I deserve land.” My voice still refused to work. “This is a farm, Layla. There’s no way I could accept a gift of immovable property from someone. It’s far too much.”
“It’s not.” She wagged her brows at me. “Not for me. You might not have realized it because we took a different route, but the back of this property borders on ours. My family used to live here, but no one has used it for years. I’ve been looking for the perfect person to give it to. You are that person.”
Kayla lifted a hand and pointed at the horses frolicking in the fields. “Those are yours too. There are stables behind the house that we’ll show you in a minute. Thomas has been a farmhand for our family for ages. He lives in the back and takes care of them.”
I was so stunned that I was speechless. What’s the right thing to say to people who give you a farm and horses?
“You don’t have to move in here,” Layla said after a minute of sile
nce. “If you don’t like it—”
“I love it,” I said finally, clearing my throat a few times to be able to speak. I still didn’t really know what to say, but I had to say something. “This is the most incredibly overwhelmingly generous thing anyone has ever done for anyone else, and I don’t have a clue how to thank—”
A sob bubbling out of me interrupted my oh-so-eloquent speech. I couldn’t hold it back.
Staring in absolute disbelief and wonder at the piece of land in front of me and thinking that it was mine, that they had gifted it to me, was just beyond belief. “I didn’t say anything before because I don’t know what to say. Do I want to move in here? Hell yes. Am I going to take the next decade to believe it’s mine? Also yes.”
Layla wound her arm around my shoulders while my friend wrapped hers around my waist. Both of them held on to me tight, crying with me when that one sob was followed by a million more.
I tried at least half a dozen more times to find the right words, but there just weren’t any. Layla eventually let me go, wiping her tears before coming around to stand in front of me.
She put her hands on my face and wiped my tears with her thumbs. Once again, I was almost bowled over with the genuine love shining in her eyes. “You don’t need to say anything or to thank me, darling. You’ve done more than enough. For me, for us, and for the community that I’m committed to serving.”
A few more tears tracked down her cheeks, but she ignored them. “People who do good are too often overlooked. For some of us, it’s so easy to give, and to do that, we often forget the sacrifice it is for others. I promised myself I would never do that. I want to give back to those who give too.”
Another sob tore out of me, and I threw my arms around her neck, clinging to her for dear life. After all the crying I’d done the last few days and nights, I’d again thought I was all cried out. It seemed my body had the capacity to truly astonish me with the sheer amount of moisture it could produce.