by Amy Vastine
Sawyer didn’t have the patience to wait any longer. He gave the NETA evaluator the green light to get started. Dean waited on the front porch for what felt like hours. It was no wonder that many of the farms and ranches that applied for this accreditation didn’t receive it. There were just so many hoops to jump through.
Both Faith and Sawyer walked the man back to his car when he was finished. They shook hands and exchanged goodbyes. Dean could see the weight had lifted off Sawyer but a new one had planted itself on Faith.
“So, what did he have to say? Did you pass?”
Sawyer’s expression went from apathetic to ecstatic. “We passed!”
Dean stood up and high-fived him. “Why aren’t you two jumping for joy right now?”
“He said based on what he saw today, we most likely passed. They have to go over some of the staffing information and he had to score the horse assessments,” Faith clarified. “Sassy was still stubborn during her evaluation.”
“It’s going to be fine,” Sawyer said. “We had everything we were supposed to have and in the condition it needed to be in. We did good. Sassy was having an off day. Her mom died yesterday. I think she deserves an off day.”
Faith wouldn’t hear it and went inside to fret.
“I would have thought she’d be relieved,” Dean said to Sawyer when they were alone.
“I thought so, too. Maybe she’s worried about what passing means.” It could mean a possible career change for Sawyer. “I am going to go put the horses out to pasture. Can you check on her for me before you go?”
Dean went inside and found Faith in the kitchen. She had that hot-pink apron on again.
“Whatcha making?”
Faith screamed and dropped the bag of flour she had just taken out of the cabinet. Flour exploded into a dusty cloud.
“Why do you have to be so quiet when you’re in my house?”
He apologized profusely while helping her clean it up. “At least flour is better than mud, right?” He wiped some flour onto her nose.
“I’m making a rule that you have to whistle when you walk into a room. I need some sort of warning system.”
They both laughed. Hearing her do something other than worry was nice. He felt good about that even when she purposely left a floury handprint on the back of his shirt.
She was so beautiful when she smiled. Her eyes lit up and her cheeks pinked. He wanted to do something to keep that look on her face.
“There’s the smile I was expecting to see when you found out you passed. Helping Hooves is going to be accredited and things are going to be easier, you’ll see.”
Her gaze fell to the floor. “I sure hope so. I need things to be easier so badly.”
Dean grabbed her hand and was surprised by how much he wanted to pull her close. “Is that little place in Collinsville still open? You know, the one we went to because we thought no one would recognize us?”
“The Filmont?” Faith’s brow furrowed and he fought the urge to reach up and smooth it out. “I think so. I can’t remember the last time I ate there.”
“We should go. Tonight. Do something to celebrate this all being over. You passed, Faith. Be happy.”
She leaned back against the counter, creating some space between them. It made Dean want to move closer even though he knew he shouldn’t.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Sawyer’s going bowling with some friends tonight. Maybe tomorrow?”
He hadn’t realized the invitation had come out like he wanted to have a family dinner. “I didn’t mean all of us. I meant me and you.”
“Oh.” Faith blinked a few times like she needed to let it sink in. “Me and you on a date at the Filmont?”
“Not a date. A celebration dinner. As friends.”
She frowned. “We’re friends?”
“Aren’t we?” There wasn’t any other title that would work. Thanks to the mistakes made in the past, they couldn’t be more than that. But friends was better than the strangers they had allowed themselves to become.
“We are,” she replied softly. The frown remained. “What time are you picking me up?”
* * *
“THE FILMONT IS where people go on their anniversary or to get engaged,” Faith said to Sawyer as she pinned her hair back so it was out of her face.
Sawyer sat on her bed, eating a bowl of cereal, his third and, supposedly, his dinner. The man would live off of cereal and ramen noodles if he ever moved out and lived alone. Like the dog on the floor, he looked completely disinterested in what she was saying, but had come upstairs when she’d called because he was a good brother.
“I’m overthinking this, aren’t I?”
“You’re absolutely overthinking it,” he replied. “Do you have a problem with me and some of the guys coming back here after we bowl to have a bonfire? We might be up late. I’m celebrating.”
Faith wanted to be more excited about what Mr. Camden had said at the end of their walk-through. There was no reason they shouldn’t get NETA’s seal of approval after everything was checked and double-checked. But instead of being relieved, she felt this terrible sense of foreboding. Like with the good could only come bad.
“I don’t care what you guys do as long as you don’t make so much noise I can’t sleep.”
“Cool. I’ll try to keep them under control, but you know Daryl. I swear that man has two volumes—loud and loud enough to wake the dead.”
Faith was glad to hear Sawyer had plans to hang out with friends. Sometimes he worked so much he didn’t make time for himself. And if Sawyer could go out with friends, so could Faith. Dean could be her friend.
“Am I too dressed up?” Faith checked herself in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of the door. She had chosen a dress but was rethinking that decision. Maybe dress said “date” and pants said “dinner with a friend.”
“You look fine.” He drank the milk from his cereal bowl and set it on her nightstand. Sprawling out on her bed, he folded his hands behind his head.
“Don’t get comfortable in my bed,” she warned. “And please do not leave that dirty bowl in here. I am not your maid.”
“Well, I am not your girlfriend. I suggest you call Josie if you want real fashion advice. I’m not really good at picking out outfits and trying to figure out why guys choose one restaurant over another. Although, as a guy, I can tell you we usually pick places to eat based on the food. We aren’t thinking about anniversaries and engagements. We’re thinking about filling the hole in our bellies.”
“Good to know.” Faith laughed and realized she wasn’t as tense as she had been a few minutes ago. Sawyer was right—the things that women thought about were not the same as what men thought about. Men focused on their basic needs while women made a big deal out of everything.
Dean wanted to go out to dinner. He’d invited a friend who deserved a good meal. The Filmont had amazing food. It was as simple as that. She ignored the butterflies in her stomach and the way her blood was rushing through her veins when she thought about being alone with Dean all night.
It was going to be an interesting dinner.
* * *
COLLINSVILLE WAS TEN MILES south of Grass Lake. It was the next town over and had a rival high school. When Faith was young and her dad got bored of eating at the same old restaurants in Grass Lake, they would make the drive to Collinsville.
When Dean and Faith had been dating, Dean had made reservations at the Filmont for a romantic getaway that didn’t go exactly as planned.
“I’ll never forget pulling up and having no clue how to use the valet. I turned the car off and took the keys—I didn’t know any better. Not sure how I thought the guy was going to park it without the keys,” Dean said as they drove in his rental car, which, they’d speculated, might have belonged to Kim Han
son, a girl they went to high school with, when she was actually in high school.
“That was a little embarrassing. But you played it cool. I remember watching you drop the keys in the guy’s hand like you meant to do that. Of course, you could do no wrong in my eyes back then.”
“But now it’s a different story, huh?” he asked, glancing at her before returning his eyes to the road.
“Only because I’m not a naïve little girl anymore.” The rose-colored glasses Faith had viewed the world in had broken when Addison died.
Collinsville and the Filmont were on the other side of the lake from the town that shared its name. By boat, someone could get there in a matter of minutes, but by car it took a good twenty. From the outside the Filmont looked more like a cottage in the woods than a restaurant. It had a fairy-tale appeal to it, which was why it was so popular with couples.
Dean pulled up to the valet and left the keys in the ignition this time. He offered his arm as they followed the flagstone path to the entrance. Inside, the hostess greeted them.
“Celebrating anything special tonight?” she asked as she guided them to their table.
“We are, actually.”
“Oh, good. Birthday? Anniversary?”
Faith quickly let go of Dean’s arm. She didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.
Dean took it all in stride. “My friend here owns a horse farm that passed a big test today.”
His friend. That was going to take some getting used to.
Dean pulled Faith’s chair out and his chivalry was unnerving. He stirred up all these old feelings, and it wasn’t very fair. This wasn’t the same as before. She had to remind herself of that throughout dinner.
They ate. They chatted. Dean made her laugh and was his charming self, which made putting her feelings for him to rest more difficult. When the waiter came to clear the dinner plates, he asked about dessert.
“I hear you’re celebrating a big accomplishment. Can I bring you or your lovely wife...girlfriend...” He was fishing.
“Friend,” Faith said before Dean had to.
Properly chagrined, the waiter apologized. “Would you like to see the dessert menu?”
Dean took him up on the offer and ordered chocolate cake with two forks. When the waiter left, Dean leaned forward. “Why do you say ‘friend’ like it’s a disease?”
“I didn’t mean to. I just didn’t want you to have to explain again. You already had to do it once. It’s sad that more men and women can’t be friends. That everyone assumes that if a man and a woman are together they must be together in every sense of the word.”
“Right? Maybe it’s because we’re so good-looking. No one would believe we could resist each other. I mean, look at me, I’m pretty much as good as it gets.”
Try as she might, Faith couldn’t keep from laughing. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes.
“Are you trying to tell me I’m not devilishly handsome? I’ll have you know I’m wearing my dad’s shirt right now, and Ted Presley wears clothes that lead to women throwing money at him. Never mind that he works at the bank. He swears it’s the shirt.”
Faith dabbed her eyes with her napkin as other patrons began to stare. “Stop, please,” she begged.
“I’m just saying.” He threw his hand up. “You’re beyond beautiful. Always have been.”
His compliment quickly put an end to her laughter. Faith didn’t want to hear that he thought that way about her. The chocolate cake came, followed by the bill. Faith excused herself to go to the ladies’ room after fighting to pay for her half of dinner and losing. Behind the closed door, she checked her reflection in the gold-framed mirror above the sink.
Her cheeks were flushed. Maybe it was from the laughing fit, but most of it was probably due to his words. Beautiful wasn’t how she saw herself. She had a narrow face like her mom. Her eyes were boring brown, not at all like Sawyer’s. His had soul, hers looked like mud. Hard work and physical labor on the farm meant she’d never had a manicure and there was always hay hiding somewhere.
“He was being nice. Trying to lighten the mood. Stop overthinking everything,” she told herself. She washed her hands even though she hadn’t used the restroom for anything other than a temporary hiding spot.
Dean was waiting for her by the front door. His dress shirt was a pale green. It worked with his eye color. His dad did have an impressive wardrobe.
“Want to take a walk down by the lake?” he asked as they stepped outside. The sun was setting and the clouds took on a pinkish-purple tint.
“Sure.” Being outside, breathing in some fresh air, sounded like a great idea. Maybe it would clear her head.
They made their way down the gravel path that ran alongside the Filmont to the water’s edge. They had a white gazebo in the back with paper lanterns hanging from the roof.
“I thought you’d be more excited about how things went today, but you still seem tense,” Dean said, leading her down to the dock where the bugs were chirping and the frogs were beginning their nighttime lullabies.
“I’m happy. I just know there’s still a lot to do. If we get more business, I might need to hire another therapist. I read that people have been using horses to help veterans with PTSD. It would be a great service to add. I’d need a social worker on staff, though.”
Dean laughed through his nose. “You and I are so much alike it’s scary.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We’re always thinking about the company. What do we need to do next to stay relevant, to pay the bills, to survive?”
“Your record business seems to be doing pretty well. You’ve got Boone Williams on your label.”
“Who hasn’t been able to write one song since his last album three years ago and needs to go back to rehab.”
Faith cringed. “I was hoping that was all tabloid nonsense.”
“They unfortunately get it right sometimes,” Dean said with a sigh.
“I’m lucky the only drama I have to deal with is between two teenage girls.”
Dean rested his arms on the dock railing and gazed out over the water. The warm spring breeze created small waves that reflected the setting sun’s fading light. The water looked like diamonds were floating on top of it.
“I heard you played social worker to Lily and Kylie. Maybe you won’t need to hire anyone else, after all.”
“Ha!” Faith had no time to get another degree. One was enough. “Talking to them was like getting to redo what happened with us. I could relate with both of them—all three of them, really.”
“Is that why you said ‘hate the lie, not the liar’ yesterday?” Dean asked, staring straight ahead.
Faith wrapped her arms around herself. “The lie is always the bad guy in the story. My brother would be proud of me for giving up a little of the blame. I might encourage him to look into getting his degree in social work. I think he’d do really great with injured vets.”
“Sawyer?” Dean’s head turned in her direction.
“Yes, Sawyer.” Faith didn’t think he should be so surprised. “He’s honest, straightforward. What you see is what you get. It would save me the trouble of finding someone else. No Boones coming to work for me. I don’t need that headache.”
Dean got quiet, contemplative. Faith hadn’t meant to remind him of his worries at work. “I’m sure the next big thing is just waiting to be discovered. When you go back to Nashville, they’ll be waiting at your door.”
He dipped his head and rested it on his hands for a second before righting himself. “I’m sure they will. We should go, huh?”
The walk to the car was silent, as was the drive home. Dean seemed stuck in his head. He had said they were alike, always thinking about work; maybe that was all it was. When he parked outside her house, it felt like the
y were about to share a much bigger goodbye than “see you tomorrow.”
Faith played with the hem of her dress. “Thanks for taking me out and for everything you did to help us get this place ready. We couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Don’t thank me, Faith,” he said with a bite while staring a hole through his steering wheel.
She took that to mean it was time to go and pushed open her door. The sound seemed to snap him out of his stupor. He jumped out of the car and came around to her side, holding the door open for her.
He even walked her to the porch. She needed to fill the silence. “I forgot to ask when you’re heading back to Nashville.”
Shoulders slumped, Dean didn’t make eye contact. “Soon,” was all he said.
“Well, don’t be a stranger. We’re friends now, right?”
His green eyes lifted and she saw the sadness and regret in there. He didn’t need to feel bad about going. They weren’t meant to be, and they were on their way to mending their broken hearts for real this time.
“Friends,” he whispered.
Faith didn’t think, she just did what her heart told her to do. She reached up and ran her hand down the side of his face. The hair of his beard was softer than she’d expected it to feel. Stepping toward him, she lifted up on her toes and kissed him.
It was supposed to be a friendly goodbye kiss. A no-big-deal, if-I-don’t-see-you-again-at-least-I’ll-have-no-regrets kiss. It started that way, but she didn’t pull back and he didn’t step away. Instead her whole body tingled as her heart thumped wildly in her chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he pulled her closer by holding her around her waist.
Her fingers slid through the hair at the nape of his neck. It wasn’t like the hungry, sloppy kisses they’d shared when she was eighteen. Back then, they were driven by desire and puppy-dog love. This kiss was grown up, full of things they couldn’t say.
When it finally came to an end on Faith’s darkened doorstep, her breaths came fast, like she had been under water for the last twelve years and Dean had finally arrived to resuscitate her. He rested his forehead on hers and kept his eyes closed.