Chapter Seventeen Drew’s first night sleeping in the farmhouse was restless and strange. His mind played tricks on him in the darkness, and the house creaked in the wind. In the morning, he’d given his chore list to Beth and went outside to work while she looked it over. She’d brought coffee and pastries again, and he thanked her, unsure how to process her kindness. He’d started the week expecting Fairwind to yank away every brick he’d carefully built around his heart, but as the days wore on, something unexpected happened. Yes, the nightmares still plagued his sleepless nights, and yes, he spent too much time trying to force the memories he’d worked for years to forget, but his days weren’t spent in quiet solitude the way they usually were. At Elkhorn, he’d been pretty much left alone, with the occasional interaction with guests or other ranch hands. Here, though, there were always people around. Molly, Beth, their friends. By the end of the week, he knew all their names. They drank c
Chapter Eighteen It had been a week and a half since Beth and Molly hired Drew, and he’d been working with a skeleton crew of volunteers who showed up when they could. Still, he’d made considerable progress on the main barn and inside the farmhouse. Every morning when she arrived with coffee and Danishes, Beth knocked on the side door and he let her in. She set up a makeshift office in the kitchen, giving her a somewhat obstructed view of the yard, where she could watch him work. He never stopped. Even when the volunteers stopped, he kept going. He hardly even took a lunch break. As an employer, she was thrilled. As a person, she was concerned. She’d start on paperwork, but she almost always ended up in the yard, though she often felt a little useless out there. Now, she sat in the kitchen with papers spread out across the table. Numbers stared back at her, daring her to calculate them again, as if they might give her a different answer this time. She’d taken Drew’s estimates and run t
Chapter Nineteen Monday morning, the beginning of their fourth week of work, Beth sat in her car in the parking lot of Willow Grove Community Bank, replaying the meeting she’d just had with Linda Dorset, the loan officer she’d been working with for years. A loan officer who knew her personally as well as professionally—Whitaker Mowers did a lot of business with the bank. Why, then, had Linda chosen now as the time to get stingy? While a loan was just about the last thing in the world Beth wanted, she’d owed it to herself to at least explore the possibility—only she’d discovered it wasn’t one at all. Drew had been working at the farm for two full weeks, and he’d done just about everything he could on his own. They’d had a steady stream of volunteers, but he’d politely asked for skilled help. She’d agreed, and as with everything else he did, Drew wasted no time assembling a crew of possible workers, many of whom she knew. But she had no idea how she would pay them. And no idea how to bre
Chapter Twenty Evenings at Fairwind Farm were too quiet. Drew had spent the last three weeks surrounded by people—volunteers, and now his crew of guys—but when the sun went down and the place was covered in moonlight, that’s when his mind played tricks on him. That’s when the real nightmares started. He’d cleaned the old farmhouse, repaired broken doors and cabinets. Two nights ago, he’d fixed the downstairs toilet, and next week, he’d paint the walls, then refinish the floors. Now, with another day waning, he used the old hand-pump well behind the farmhouse to clean up. Beth stood off in the distance, watering the seeds she’d planted in the raised beds. She wore cutoff shorts, a white tank top and a button-down shirt tied in a knot at the side. And that goofy-looking garden hat she’d found in the house. He couldn’t decide if she looked ridiculous or adorable. He’d seen the magazine clippings in Beth’s notebook on the table when his mind had been especially anxious. He’d needed a proje
Chapter Twenty-One At the beginning of their fourth week of working together, Beth arrived at the farm with coffee and pastries, but Drew was already out in the field, working. She watched for chances to talk to him throughout the day, but he seemed to purposely make himself scarce. By the time she left that evening, she’d given up and left him a note with questions about the orchard and when they could meet with an expert, something that had been near the top of their list since they’d started. The following morning, she arrived with Molly and Callie, who’d agreed to help with the Fairwind Farm Market. When she knocked on the side door of the farmhouse, there was no answer, and she could only assume Drew was already outside somewhere. Never mind that up until yesterday he’d always waited to get to work until they touched base in the mornings. She’d grown to enjoy their little tradition. What had changed? She pushed the door open. “Why don’t we get started in here?” she said to Molly a
Chapter Twenty-Two “Well, that was hot.” Callie handed Beth a bag of ice for her throbbing hand. “Me punching a guy in the face?” “No, Drew saving you like that.” She let out a breathy sigh, walking just a few steps behind Beth on her way back to the farmhouse. “He didn’t save me,” Beth said. “I’m the one who punched that loser.” Callie jogged ahead of her and opened the side door leading back to the kitchen table, where they probably should’ve stayed put all along. “He’s the one who got him out. For you. I think he likes you.” “I’m sure he would’ve done the same thing for any of us, Callie. He’s a gentleman.” “Yeah, but he wouldn’t have had that look in his eyes if it were me or Molly.” “What look?” Callie’s brows raised. “You must’ve seen it. I think it can only be described as passion.” Beth rolled her eyes. “You read too many trashy romance novels.” “I’m telling you. There’s something there.” “Well, I disagree. Can we get back to work?” Callie reluctantly agreed, and they spent the
Chapter Twenty-Three Downtown Willow Grove bustled with activity on Saturday morning. The high school’s senior class was throwing their annual school carnival and bake sale, the last big event before tourists took over their little town. Locals came out in droves to support the event, partly for nostalgic reasons and partly to raise funds for whatever the graduating class decided the school needed most. This year, they wanted a new scoreboard for the football field. Beatty Park, with its open fields and ample shade, had proved to be the best place in town for an event like this, complete with carnival rides, games and local food vendors who showed up early to aid a worthy cause. Though Beth was exhausted, she knew showing her face at the carnival was important. These were the same people she hoped would support not only their barn sale, but the farm itself. Besides, she couldn’t miss the carnival. It was a tradition. She loved the artistic spin the Willow Grove locals put on a school f
Chapter Twenty-Four So she was human. Drew had started to wonder. Listening to Beth unload the baggage she’d been carrying around had been a sort of therapy for him. Somehow, knowing he wasn’t the only one with massive regret weighing him down had done him good. It would probably do her good too, to know that she wasn’t alone, but he just couldn’t go there. Not yet. Probably not ever. Not only had he kept the truth from her, but the truth was awful. Working didn’t dull the pain of it anymore, not the way it used to. What would he do if he couldn’t find a way to keep the thoughts at bay? He’d spent hours in Harold’s hidden room. He’d read and reread every scrap of paper the old man had collected over the years. Nothing but nightmares came. Now, standing in the seats outside the band shell, waiting for Beth, he wondered if it was time to get back to his real life. Back to Colorado, where at least he wouldn’t be faced with the memory of Jess every time he walked outside. “Do you have time
Chapter Twenty-Five “I really can’t believe this woman would continue to use the barn knowing there were new owners. It’s just common sense, really. And how did she stay hidden this whole time? We’re out in the yard nonstop. What barn is she using?” Beth prattled on as Drew drove in silence, two barking dogs in the bed of his truck. He wished he had a way to warn Birdie she was about to be evicted, though he had reason to believe the woman would not go quietly. And if she let on that he knew she was there, what then? Would Beth kick him out too? His mind spun with excuses. He should just come clean. He should t
ell her everything—that he knew about Birdie but didn’t have the heart to make her leave, partly because she was the only person he’d met who’d been around at the time Jess went missing. But an admission like that would require the whole truth—not just about Birdie, but about why he was there in the first place. And he wasn’t ready to get into all of that. He didn’t want to show
Chapter Twenty-Six Beth sat on the steps, trying to calm her competitive self down after the adrenaline rush of racing Drew back to the farm. If she could look like she’d been waiting a while by the time he finally arrived, all the better. When his truck appeared on the gravel road, she steadied her breathing, certain it would be her last chance to do so until she left the farm that night. “What kind of crazy driver are you?” He flashed one of his rare, genuine smiles. A part of her felt honored he’d saved it for her. Unlike Beth, who was serious by nature, Drew had a playfulness about him. She saw it sometimes in their back-and-forth banter, but he always seemed to catch himself and shut it down. Like he didn’t think it was right to show her (or anyone else) that side of himself. But then, didn’t she do the same, always insisting on being professional and proper? Hadn’t that earned her the Ice Queen nickname? She drove people away. “My dad used to drag race.” Beth attempted to keep he
Chapter Twenty-Seven What had he done? Drew closed the door behind Beth, wishing he could pull her back inside and tell her everything. Every moment he stayed quiet only put more distance between them. He knew it, so why hadn’t he just explained everything? He had much more to lose than he’d thought he did. Birdie had seen it—why hadn’t he? “When are you going to tell her how you feel?” She’d dotted her paintbrush on the canvas in front of her. “About what?” She’d tossed the brush into the jar of paint water and glared at him over the top of those reading glasses she wore. “Don’t play dumb with me.” “She’s my boss.” “And?” “I don’t have feelings for her. I respect her, but that’s all.” “You’re either lying to yourself or lying to me or both.” Birdie had shaken her head, tsk-tsking him as she did. “I just hope you wake up before it’s too late. That girl won’t be around forever.” Maybe he’d been chewing on the whole idea a little more than he should’ve been. As it was, Beth was just abou
Chapter Twenty-Eight The nerve of that guy. Beth stormed out of Davis Biddle’s ostentatious mansion—which had no business in Willow Grove at all—and drove in silence back to the farm. This man, this cunning businessman, had a reputation of brilliance. Why then would he want to buy Fairwind but not invest in it, especially when, as she saw it, he’d already invested so much in the upkeep of the orchards all these years? It didn’t make sense. To make matters (and her mood) worse, Drew hadn’t said a word about yesterday. And he’d given her no indication that a kiss like that would ever happen again. The thought of it lodged a lump in the center of her throat. They pulled into Fairwind’s parking lot and found Molly sweeping out the main barn, no doubt preparing for the Fairwind Farm Market, which was now only a few weeks away. They’d begun collecting items from the house and other barns, and soon they’d assemble it all together in a nicely ordered booth for people to browse. “How’d it go?”
Chapter Twenty-Nine The next day, when she arrived, Beth knocked on the front door again. Drew had made up his mind not to be so distant with her today—even if it seemed awkward. Yesterday had been brutal, and not knowing where he stood with her was killing him. He’d figure out a way to tell her who he really was tonight. He owed her that much. He pulled the door open and found her eyes, which asked permission to come in. One look at her and his self-control unraveled. “Good morning.” She shoved a coffee at him. “Good morning.” He took the cup. “Listen, can you tell me what’s going on here?” She motioned at herself, then at him. She’d taken on her business tone, same one he’d witnessed when she talked to Davis Biddle. He watched her for a few long seconds until she looked at him again. He couldn’t help it—he smiled. “You’re smiling.” “You’re cute when you’re confrontational.” She gave his shoulder a shove, and he held on to her wrist, pulling her close. “I’m serious,” she said. “I can’
Chapter Thirty Drew stared at her, pain radiating behind his icy blue eyes. He looked at her, then at the photo in her hands, then to the room where she sat—a tiny room she hadn’t intended to find. When she’d cleared away the clothes, there it was—and what she saw inside looked like the work of a madman. “This is why you’re here.” He turned away, took his hat off and raked a hand through his hair. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out.” “You could’ve told me weeks ago.” She scanned the wall of photos, newspaper clippings and random scribblings on napkins. Most of the items were old and weathered, undoubtedly the work of Harold Pendergast. But some of those things, like Davis Biddle’s business card, were brand-new. Those things told her Drew not only knew about the secret room, he knew about the wall. He’d contributed to it. Was he a madman too? Beth waited for an explanation, but as usual, Drew seemed unable, or unwilling, to speak. She stood and walked toward him. “Drew, what’s goi
Chapter Thirty-One The emptiness of the farmhouse seeped into the loneliest parts of Beth’s soul. After too many long minutes crying on the floor of the hidden room, her phone rang, forcing her to pull herself together. A number she didn’t recognize showed up on the caller ID. “Hello?” “Beth? It’s Dina. I just got your email about the barn sale.” Beth had sent that email weeks ago. “It got lost in our server—long story—anyway, I had my team work something up. A logo, a website and an ad campaign. Look it over and send me the names of the vendors so I can put the finishing touches on it and make it live. I would say send me your changes, but the sale is in just a couple of weeks. We should probably just go with it as it is.” “Dina, you shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble.” She thought about the gossip she’d heard and wondered if it was true. And if Harrison was leaving her, how was Dina handling it? Her own heart ached at the thought of losing Drew—and their relationship had barely
Chapter Thirty-Two Drew sat in a folding chair across from Bishop’s desk at the Willow Grove Police Station, waiting for the officer to return from patrol. Four desks were positioned in haphazard fashion around the room, and he was pretty sure the woman who’d escorted him back here still stared at him from her desk at the entrance, but he pretended not to notice. She seemed to think Bishop would be right back, but Drew had already been waiting fifteen minutes, and there was no indication Bishop even knew he had a visitor. Every so often, the police scanner came to life. In the time he’d been sitting there, he’d heard reports of a stray dog running down the highway and the ice cream truck’s new route. This place likely never saw much excitement, but he supposed that’s how most of the people who lived here preferred it. Outside, the sky had grown dark, no trace of blue underneath the thick gray clouds. “Hope your windows aren’t down,” the woman called back. She stood at the front window.
Chapter Thirty-Three After half an hour underneath the pews, Beth could tell the rain had mostly stopped. The thunder and lightning seemed to have moved on, but neither she nor Drew moved. At some point during the storm, he’d pulled her closer, enveloping her in his arms, and now, still lying beside him, hand resting calmly on his chest, she wished they could continue to hide away. But they had to face reality at some point. “I suppose we should go check on the farm.” Dread resonated in his voice. All that work—his work—was on the line. “Not knowing is worse than facing it.” Somehow she had the feeling he wasn’t talking only about the damage from the storm. She drew in a deep breath, then inched her way out of his arms. “I guess you’re right.” He scooted out from under the pew and stood, staring at her. They’d hardly spoken since he’d arrived, opting instead to listen to the storm as it beat on the sides of the chapel, praying the roof wouldn’t cave. But now, when she looked at him, sh
Chapter Thirty-Four Beth stood on the porch, watching as Ben’s truck pulled into the parking lot next to her Audi. Moments later, Molly’s VW Bug appeared a
t the farm’s entry. A Whitaker family meeting was in order, and Beth had a feeling it wouldn’t go smoothly. Yesterday’s storm had upended their plans, and her brother and sister needed to see it for themselves. She and Drew hadn’t discussed the future of the farm. He’d spent every waking minute since they’d left the chapel clearing away the debris that had rained down on their beloved Fairwind. Never in her life had she known someone to work with such diligence, especially for something that wasn’t his. Why couldn’t they just crawl back underneath the chapel pew and pretend none of this was happening? Molly and Bishop got out of the VW as Ben opened the door of his truck. Under different circumstances, it might have been a nice gathering. Beth greeted everyone, the mood decidedly somber. “I asked Callie to join us too,” she said, wat
Chapter Thirty-Five Beth sat in one of two Adirondack chairs she’d salvaged after the storm, staring at the empty fire pit and trying to figure out how to let the farm go. Why had God chosen to take this away from her, just when she’d begun to love it? She didn’t understand it, but she chose to trust He had a plan. In the past, she’d been so angry when things didn’t go her way—if she’d learned anything, it was that anger had turned her into someone she didn’t want to be. Her phone rang, and she saw Dina’s name on her screen. Beth hadn’t told her the barn sale was off. And she’d probably been working round the clock to spread the word. Beth let out a heavy sigh, then clicked the phone on. “Hey, Dina.” “Beth, have you had a chance to check your email? I’d love to know what you think of the mock-ups. And you’ll be happy to know Midwest Living and Country Life agreed to promote the sale online in exchange for advertising, which I’d be willing to donate.” “Dina, you don’t have to do that.”
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