He looked around. “You know farming isn’t so bad. Your land probably looked like this at some point.”
She bobbed her head. “Expensive to get something like this started, though. I was hoping to buy some time until I figured it all out, but the bottom line is I’ve pretty much run out of options. And Lord knows I’m never going to find the fabled fortune.”
“Fabled fortune?”
“That’s just plantation folklore.”
“If you have that much land, I’m sure you could make it profitable.” He could help her, even if she wouldn’t be his fiancé in about thirty minutes. They started walking again.
“I’ve researched everything. I’ve obviously not acquired the skills to do what I need to do.” She looked toward the edge of the field where the trees met the hay. “I know how to decorate a parlor, but I don’t know how to plan a crop. I know how to buy the latest fashions, but I don’t know how to buy equipment to work the land. I know how to handle harmless snakes, but I don’t know how to handle a large group of employees to run a big operation. I was born to privilege, bred to propriety and trained to throw parties.”
“I bet you’re more capable of all those things than you think. I have some ideas.”
She looked up at him. “Ideas? Like what?”
“Well, that was going to be one of our future conversations. Sustainability for the plantation. I’m better on the financial end, but I was going to have Colton and Buck come out and look at the place to see what we might be able to do. Heck, Jenna, I had so much to tell you, but things happened so fast…and they fell apart so fast.”
She looked down and ran her palms over the tops of the grasses as she walked. “I guess we won’t be having any conversations about the future now. I’ve got to give you back the ring.”
His heart dragged under the weight of her words. “I’d rather you didn’t.”
She gave him one slow nod. “I’d rather I didn’t have to, but I must.”
He knew it was probably for the better. He grabbed her arm and looked into her eyes, the dimness of the light barely illuminating her platinum strands that danced about her soft, beautiful face. “I understand.” He let go, and they started walking again. Her lightness had disappeared and was replaced with a…grounding.
When they arrived at the combine, Jenna walked around it and looked at it from every angle. As she did, he checked a text on his phone as a cover, but he was really checking out Jenna. Oh, this was a shame that she wasn’t going to adorn the farm with her loveliness and…charm.
“How am I supposed to get into something like this?” she asked.
He would have liked to scoop her up in his arms and put her into it, but that wouldn’t have ended well because he was afraid he would not want to let go. “So, either with a ladder or with a very long set of legs.” Which she had, by the way. “Or I could give you a boost.”
She shot him a look like he’d planned the whole thing. “Hmmm. Boost it is.”
He wondered just how he was going to actually give her a boost without seeing more of her legs than he was sure she’d want to reveal. Now that she was officially breaking off their engagement. Well, at least they’d be engaged while he lifted her into the monstrous green machine. He stared for just a moment. At her lovely pale hair bending in the breeze. Her fresh, spring dress, blowing between her long shapely legs. And the sparkling diamond ring on her finger that still made her his fiancé. For now.
Time to give her a leg up. He bent down and created a U shape with his hands. “Step here,” he said.
She did what he’d said, but immediately lost her balance and slipped, grazing her calf along the palms of his hands. Electricity ran up his arms. But he couldn’t think like that about a woman who was about to become little more to him than an acquaintance. When she gave the ring back. That he didn’t want.
“Not like that.” He stooped down again and entwined his fingers. “First put your arms around my neck.” He stared past her at the edge of the forest so that he didn’t see her legs if her dress were to blow around. If he was nothing else, he was a gentleman. The fireflies had begun to come out. She’d better hurry up and get the help into the combine because they were losing light.
As he lifted her up, her paper-thin dress swirled around his head, obscuring his vision. He inhaled the soft scent of her perfume as it wafted around him. “Grab the bar by the door and put your foot on the step.” He wished he could inhale her every day—for the rest of his life, but this was probably the last time.
She grabbed the handle, and at once her feathery weight was off him.
What wasn’t off him was the tingle she’d left. Deep inside his heart.
⸙
Jenna hadn’t thought she’d feel anything but some sadness today. She certainly wasn’t prepared for the voltage bolts whirling through her heart and head every time Hogan touched her or got near her. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, after all. Maybe she should have just Fed Ex-ed her ring to her soon to be ex. Yep. That would have been appropriate. But nothing inside her wanted to make him her ex right now.
They were way out in the middle of nowhere, where no one could see them, touch them, interfere with them. The sun was all but gone, and she noticed little flickers of bright bursts at the edges of the field, next to the forest that bordered it. Fireflies. She stared at the little things that didn’t seem nearly so menacing here on Hogan’s farm. In fact, they seemed to hold some of the magic they used to hold for her.
He hopped into the other side of the combine and turned on the headlamps. “This should take just a few minutes. It’s actually kind of quiet in here when the doors are closed. The company got all fancy on us farmers a few years ago with all their upgrades and everything.” He turned the key, and the engine almost purred. “We’ve had a little problem with the brakes with this one, though. It’s like it’s got a five second delay or something.” He put it in gear. “It’ll take a few passes before we’ll know if it’s fixed.”
The massive green beast lurched forward and then smoothed out.
“I’m going to turn on the rotors, too. To make sure it all works in tandem.” He flipped a couple of switches, and then she saw the large wheel in front of them lower. She heard the whirr of the blades. Then he flipped the switch back again and pressed the brake. “Still a little slow. But better.” They rode to the end of the patch of grasses, and he tried the brakes again. “Shoot.” He turned it around and headed toward the direction of the house. “This will never do. It’s okay out here in the field, but when we get next to the road, we’ll have problems if we have to stop suddenly.”
He drove it a couple of hundred feet and turned the rotor wheel back on. “So, you’ve come here to talk?” He turned to look into her eyes.
Her heart felt drugged—sluggish. And her mouth had a delay on it—exactly like the brakes on the combine. “I can’t keep this.” She touched the beautiful circle on her finger.
He placed his hand on hers and glanced back at the field. She couldn’t seem to help herself but to place her right hand over his, pressing it into the ring that was on her left.
He turned and stared at her, the combine bouncing and whirring. She stared back, trapping his hand between her fingers even tighter. She couldn’t stare at him a moment longer, so she broke the trance and looked out the windshield of the combine.
What? She leaned forward to gaze into the mass of yellow. No. That couldn’t be. She lifted her head high to get a better look. The golden straw in front of them was moving, parting, coming at them. Right in front of the blades. “Oh, my God! Stop!”
It was Savannah.
Hogan stomped the brake, and in almost the same moment, he dove from the cab.
Jenna threw herself over the gear. Flipped up the lever on the rotor just as she’d seen Hogan do. Pushed both her feet as hard as she could onto the brake. Turned off the key.
Silence. Eerie. Deafening. Silence. It filled the cab of the combine. It filled her heart. And
the darkness around her.
She waited for the lumbering monster to completely stop before she took her feet off the brake.
She didn’t know how she did it, but somehow she’d slipped down the side of the machine and onto the ground. No telling who’d seen what as her dress lifted, but it didn’t matter. “Hogan!” She walked a few steps. “Hogan! Savannah! Oh, God! Hogan!”
She looked in front of the combine. No Hogan. No Savannah.
She bent over and crawled between the blade and the wheel.
She wished she hadn’t. There he was. His leg bent in an unnatural way. Covered in blood. Groaning. She scampered under the combine. “Hogan! Are you…” She brushed some of the hay and blood from his face.
In an almost inaudible voice, he whispered, “Savannah.”
Her heart was skipping pulses. She couldn’t breathe. “I’ll find her, Hogan. Don’t move. I’ll find her, and I’ll get help.”
She crawled like a crab from under the combine and stood on her toes out the other end, surveying all that she could. A light breeze stirred the tops of the tall grass in the light around the combine. She saw nothing of the little girl. “Savannah!” she yelled as loudly as she could. She took large steps and parted the hay to try to find the little girl in what could only be described as darkness. “Savannah!”
Still no answer.
But of course there wouldn’t be. She had to find the child herself, so she ran haphazardly through the hay, brushing it aside as she made the crazy circles; fireflies were her only light behind the big green beast. She yelled, “Savannah!” over and over.
She ran faster and faster until she almost dizzied herself. She needed to get back to Hogan. But how could she go to him without finding Savannah first?
She ran back to the combine and somehow climbed upon the big wheel and surveyed the field around her, examining each small section of dimly lit hay. The girl had to be there. She was almost certain of what she’d seen. It had even caused Hogan to jump from the cab and risk his very life.
There! About twenty feet away and twenty feet behind the combine was a small indention of grass. Fireflies all about. She hopped down and ran to it.
It was Savannah. Crumpled and bent. And bloody.
“Baby! Oh, Savannah! Wake up, baby!” She took the little girl into her arms. “Savannah!” She turned toward the combine again. “Hogan, I’ve got her. I’m going for help. Hang on!”
With the little girl in her arms, she started running toward the house. Barefooted. And in what seemed to be slow motion. Why wouldn’t her muscles work?
Jenna’s face was wet. From blood or from tears. She didn’t know. And it didn’t matter. She saw the light on the front porch. The area around the house and barns were lit. She needed to get there. She pushed on through the darkness with the little girl joggling in her arms with each difficult step.
Her legs were heavy, like lead. Her feet kept sinking into the soft, warm ground. It seemed as if she wasn’t making any headway. She needed help. “Help!” she yelled. “Help!” She yelled again and again as she ran.
She saw Hogan’s foreman frantically sprint onto the front porch and then down the steps and toward her. She saw several other men racing to her from a distance beyond the house.
“Help!” she continued to yell, like they might stop running if she stopped yelling. She paused to change the little girl’s position, and rested the tiny angel’s head in the curve of her shoulder and neck. With her free arm she kept flagging them toward the combine. “Get Hogan!” she yelled.
When the foreman reached her, he brushed back the little girl’s blood soaked hair. He gasped and froze.
“Call 9-1-1!” she yelled. “Oh, God!” They were so far away from a hospital at the top of the county. “Oh, God!” It may already be too late.
The man came to himself, jerked his cell phone from his side and dialed the number. He hung up and looked at her. “No freakin’ bars. Cheap freakin’ phone!”
“Well, move. Get some freaking bars! Get some service! Now!” Jenna was panicking. Big time.
He ran toward the road, stopped, and dialed again.
She could tell he’d gotten through this time. Still plodding through the thick, soft sod, she made her way toward the house. She turned to see that the men had reached Hogan. They were pulling him from under the combine.
Hot tears ran down her face. They were all making so many mistakes. Neither the child nor Hogan should have been moved. But they were in a panic. What if they had damaged them even further? But what if they weren’t even alive?
Jenna finally made it to the dirt road that led to the house. Her feet took wing, and she nearly flew to the front porch. She sat on the top step where the little girl had been perched earlier and cradled her in her arms like a baby. She wanted to assess the frail child. “Baby, wake up, sweetheart. It’s time to wake up.” She brushed the blood-soaked hay from the little girl’s face and scanned every inch. No cuts. She ran her hand over the little girl’s legs to see if there were any tears. None. She gingerly touched each part of Savannah’s arms. First her right. Then her left. The little thing winced, and Jenna saw her eyes slightly part.
“That’s it, Savannah. Open your eyes, sweetie. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Savannah’s eyes opened completely, and then she winced.
“It’s okay, baby. We’re going to fix your arm, and it won’t hurt any more. Just hang on, sweetie.” She hoped Hogan wasn’t in pain. But all the blood had to have come from him. Savannah wasn’t bleeding at all. It was just her arm that was hurt.
Savannah’s gaze ran over Jenna’s upper body, but she never looked her in the eyes. Then she reached up with her right hand and took a piece of Jenna’s hair between her small thumb and fingers. She rubbed it like she did her naked doll.
Jenna stroked Savannah’s hair in return. The ring the little girl’s father had given her sparkled under the light from the porch as she caressed the soft locks of feathery hair. Jenna rocked. And sang.
“Everything’s gonna be alright.” It was the song she had heard Jasper sing so many times on the plantation when she was a child. It had given her comfort so many times. She hoped the song would convince Savannah that things would be okay now.
But Jenna wasn’t sure everything would be okay at all because Hogan still lay in that field in a condition that was not good. She looked toward the field as she was singing, her hand on Savannah’s hair, and Savannah’s on her hand and ring. Jenna’s heart beat with the little girl’s. Like they were one, mother and child. She rocked and sang and rocked and sang, all the while her heart melting into something she’d never imagined, all the while understanding how transformative caring for someone this much could be. This was what she was born to do. All her protective instincts had largely been misplaced—on things and on friends that really didn’t need this kind of protection. Still she rocked and sang.
It seemed like they had been there forever. Then, in the distance, she heard the squeal of the sirens.
Jenna’s heart would never be all right again.
No matter what happened.
Chapter Thirteen
“If a man owns land, the land owns him.”
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
The men in the field motioned the EMS truck to them. The technicians worked on Hogan beside the combine while the lights on their vehicle flashed red all over the hay in the dark field. The beams of red almost mesmerized her, but why was it taking so long? Then they finally loaded Hogan into the back of the vehicle. The emergency truck bumped its way over to the house.
The team jumped out the back and ran to her.
“Is he going to be okay?” she asked. Panic marked each word. She could only imagine the look on her face.
“Ma’am, he’s stable right now, but he’s lost a lot of blood. We need to move very quickly. The little girl?” The man in the blue uniform moved toward Savannah, and she flinched.
“She’s not used to strangers,” Jenna
said. She didn’t know why she said that because Jenna was a stranger to her, too. Though it didn’t look like it with the little girl cradled in her arms and brushing her hair so intimately. But she couldn’t explain that she’d just turned into the replacement for the dolly that the little girl had lost in the field.
“Let’s take a look,” the man said and unwound the stethoscope from his neck. He proceeded to examine the girl’s extremities.
“You need to be careful with her left arm. I think it may be broken. She pulls back on it,” she said.
“Yeah, probably,” he said as he lifted the fragile little arm.
“Did you see the accident?” the technician asked.
Jenna nodded. “I was in the combine. But it all happened so fast. I saw her hair waving. Her father jumped and pushed her out the way of the blades. And then he disappeared under the tractor.”
It was the whitewashed version for Savannah’s sake. In case she understood.
“Okay. Let’s get her loaded with her father and get them to the hospital.” He reached for the little girl, but she turned into Jenna to hide. “Ma’am, I don’t think she’s going to let you go. Could you ride with her? In the back?”
Jenna didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” She was going to ride in an ambulance. Barefooted. And she didn’t care one little bit.
She looked into the back of the EMS truck and saw the technician leaning over Hogan. What had happened to him? She had to know. But she also needed to be careful about the flow of information around Savannah. The little girl didn’t need to hear it. She probably knew more than she verbalized, if Jenna had guessed correctly. It would probably scare the child to death to hear the details of her father’s injuries.
In moments they were loaded and screaming down the highway heading toward Summerbrook. Buck followed on his motorcycle. No wonder he was wearing that leather vest. He was a biker. A biker-foreman.
She bounced at each pothole in the road and had to work diligently at keeping her head bent over the little girl so that she could pull comfort from Jenna’s hair as she stroked it. It was all the little thing had at the moment.
Fireflies and Lies (A Summerbrook Novel Book 4) Page 18