“About five minutes away. There’s a gravel clearing just off the shoulder of the road near Hennessey Creek. It’s not a big deal.”
“It is. That’s ridiculous.”
Chad arched an eyebrow defiantly. “Oh? I didn’t realize I needed your permission. I’ve been showing up on time and working my tail off. That’s all you need to worry about, Katie.”
Katie pressed her lips together. “You really shouldn’t talk to me like that. I am your boss, after all.” A smirk formed on her lips again, goading him.
“Yes. You’re my boss, not my mother.”
“You really need to be nicer to me.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because I’m about to invite you to stay for supper so you don’t have to get your dinner from a cooler at the gas station. And trust me, when you realize how well I can cook, you’ll be begging to hang around for food more often.” Her grin grew wider, satisfaction glinting in her eyes. He didn’t have to say a word; she could see the desire he struggled to hide at the thought of a decent meal.
“Come on.” She waved at him to follow her as she turned and headed for the house. “Let’s get out of this bitter wind.”
Chapter Eleven
CHAD
“You weren’t kidding,” Chad stated after he took the first mouthful from his fork and savored the flavors. He watched as Katie rolled her eyes dramatically in response, humor playing on her lips as she did the same.
“It’s just spaghetti and meatballs.” She reached for the pitcher of water in the middle of the table and held it up, silently questioning him if he’d like her to fill the empty glass in front of him. He nodded, thanking her after he’d swallowed.
“Homemade sauce, though. It’s really good, Katie. Thank you for inviting me in.”
“Better than sitting here alone.” The words hung between them, and Chad wondered if she’d meant to say them out loud.
“I’m no stranger to loneliness, either, Katie.” He’d meant it as a way to level out the playing field, but immediately regretted his response, hearing only the pity and sorrow that emanated from within him so readily.
She set her fork down and gulped down half of her water glass, then Katie set her gaze on him. “You’re lonely?” She seemed uncertain about voicing such a question, her voice sounding small.
“I prefer the term alone, so as not to focus on the path that led me to it.” The corners of his mouth curled slightly.
Katie looked away, focusing on the plate in front of her. “You don’t want to talk about it, I take it?”
“There’s not much to tell.”
Katie arched a brow at him, waving her fork at him tauntingly. “Come on, it can’t be any worse than my story.”
“Which is?”
“Fiancé leaves mother of one after her father, whom she adores, dies.” Katie held her hands up to mimic quotation marks.
Chad fought the urge to let his mouth gape open. “You’re right. I can’t compete with that.”
“Too bad. Your turn.”
Chad stayed silent for a moment, taking in a mouthful of spaghetti as he mulled over whether or not to even respond. Finally, he said, “Wife I’ve been with for ten years, my high school sweetheart, leaves husband for someone else, wrecking the only world he’s ever known as an adult.”
“Wow,” Katie said, cringing. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too. About your fiancé, I mean. And your dad.”
Katie’s fork clanged against the plate and she pushed away from the table. “Don’t be.”
The shift in conversation was palpable. Chad watched her get up from the table, her face a look of stone, unreadable. “Where are you going?”
“I’m obviously bad company without a little red wine in my system.”
His gaze never left her as she pulled a bottle from the fridge and dug in one of the cupboards for glasses. When she retrieved two mason jars, he chuckled.
“Very classy.”
“Dinnerware is minimal around here, sorry.”
“We don’t have to talk about this, Katie.” Guilt flooded him as he watched her pour the deep red liquid into the jars. “And, no thank you. I don’t really drink red wine.” Katie abruptly stopped pouring it into the second jar, her stare flickering upward to look at him. Without a word, he knew exactly what she was asking him, so he added, “Sorry, I just think that stuff tastes terrible. Such a waste of good grapes.”
Katie set the bottle down, biting her lip to hide the upturned corners of her mouth. “Suit yourself.” She sat back down and took a fortifying gulp of the wine. “Where are you from, Chad?”
“I told you, I have family about two hours away just outside Toronto.”
“I remember. Is that where you lived before showing up here?”
He eyed her cautiously. There was obviously an unspoken question if he read between the lines, but he’d be damned if he was going to reveal everything right now. No, it was easier to remain just Chad Kirkwood. No Nashville, no stage name, and no more truths. He realized too late that he’d already told her too much as it was.
“In the States. Nowhere in particular. We’d moved around a lot.” Suddenly, he was wishing he could handle the bitter taste of the red wine that stood before him.
“We, as in you and your wife?”
“Yeah, we did a lot of traveling together. I’ve seen a lot of places.”
“Jay and I rarely traveled. I’d like to, though. It would be good for Mason, too.”
Chad saw the pang of hurt that crossed her face at the mention of her son. Remembering Jay’s cryptic words from earlier, he took a breath and asked the question he’d wanted to voice to Jay himself. “Why did Jay leave, Katie?”
She smiled back at him; not the smile he’d seen earlier that illuminated her naturally pretty features, but a smile that had the sole purpose of masking the pain that was hidden behind it. “He said I’ve changed too much since my dad passed away. I’m not the same woman he met years ago.”
“Are you?”
“Who the hell is?” She lashed out at him, and her wide eyes confirmed what he immediately knew: She hadn’t meant to. She quickly dropped her gaze to the mason jar in front of her, and Chad sincerely hoped she wouldn’t try to apologize.
“You’re right. Time changes us all.”
“And, sometimes, it’s not for the better.”
“Time changes us, but time heals, too. You just need more of it.”
"I don't have time to waste on it all, Chad. I have a son to raise and a farm to turn into a profitable venture. I don't need more time; I need to move on." Katie's words were terse, and Chad resisted the urge to flinch. The walls this woman had built up around herself and her heart were high and indestructible.
"Either way, you need to give yourself time. Sometimes it'll be easy; other times, not so much. Take it day by day; that's all anyone can do."
"Is that what you've done?"
Chad thought about her question for a moment. Was he truly taking his own advice? He wasn't. Unlike Katie, who had pushed her emotions and feelings into the darkest depths of her mind and vowed to ignore their existence, he had walked away from the life he'd thought he wanted, his passion and dream come true left in the hangars as though it were something he could just pick up again later if he decided he wanted to. Katie may be trying to move on and not let it affect her, but he'd let his emotional turmoil destroy everything willingly. A brief thought of what his manager and producer must be thinking right now flitted through his mind. Taking a page from Katie's book, he pushed the thought away, not wanting to ruminate about anything else right now. "I'm trying to. Like I said, though, it's not always easy."
Katie pushed the pasta around on her plate once more, finally deciding she wasn't hungry and set her fork back down. Cash poked his head up from his place sprawled out on the floor, hopeful that he would get whatever remained on her plate. She gave him a warning glance, and the dog immediately lowered his head again, sheepish at being
caught begging. "I don't expect easy," she stated. "Things are never easy."
Chad shrugged, getting up from his chair. He plucked the second mason jar from the table and held it under the tap to fill it with water. "It might not be easy, but it's almost always worth it." He turned and flashed her an encouraging smile, lowering himself back onto the chair at the table. "Take this farm, for example."
"What about it?" Katie's eyebrows shot up at the sudden change in conversation.
"Well, I've been thinking." He paused. When she just continued to stare at him, Chad continued on. "You've said on a few occasions that you need to make this place turn a bigger profit. I have a few ideas that might help you out with that."
"I'm trying for my dad. I don't even really want the place, to be honest." As the words tumbled from her mouth, Katie's shoulders seemed to lower slightly, the tension releasing from them. Chad could tell the admission had been a hard one for her to voice, and he was glad she'd finally admitted it to him as well as to herself. He merely nodded, not sure if she desired a verbal response or not.
"I might be able to help you out with that, too."
"Why would you want to do that for me?"
"I wouldn't be. I'd be doing it for your father, too." He smiled warmly at her, but the corner of her mouth merely twitched upward in response. "Okay, maybe I'd be doing a little bit of it for you," he added.
"But why?"
"Because you took a chance on me last weekend when I showed up here. I'm just returning the favor."
He watched Katie mull this over silently, their plates of spaghetti now cold and practically untouched. "What's in it for you?"
"Excuse me?"
"I can't afford to pay you more than I already am."
"I'm okay with that, Katie."
"Then what's in it for you?"
"Wow, you don't even know what ideas I have to spruce this farm up, and you're already assuming I want something from you?"
"You didn't answer my question, Chad."
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
He held his hands up in mock surrender. "Fine, all I want is for you to smile a little more around here. If you can do that, I'll do what I can to help you turn this place around. Deal?"
"You're serious."
"You either really don't trust me, or you really don't want me around here any more than I already am."
"Trust is a difficult thing for me."
"Well, seeing as we're both members of that club, can we move on and work together to build this place up and make you smile?"
Katie seemed to be searching his face for some sign of insincerity, some clue as to his underlying reasons for offering more help to her. He didn't know how to tell her that he needed the project to focus on, and he needed it to succeed, just as much as she did.
"It's a deal, Mr. Kirkwood."
"Let's talk business then, shall we?" he offered her with a relieved grin.
***
"That's where the bulk of the profits are coming from? Going to the farmers’ markets every weekend?"
"The ones I can get to, yes."
Chad didn't hear defensiveness in her voice, but a sense of reality set in between them. They'd moved their conversation into the living room after only partially finishing their dinner. With mason jars in hand, they huddled around the antique trunk positioned in the middle of the living room that Katie used as a makeshift coffee table. A spiral-bound notebook was flipped open between them, and they jotted down ideas as they came to them.
"I don't need to know numbers," Chad stated. "But I am just curious how profitable weekend markets truly are for you." He had been to quite a few of them in his time, and he was well aware that markets were only as successful as the number of people that were drawn to them.
"Some are good, which gives me hope. Other weekends aren't that great, though. Hence, the reason we are having this conversation." Katie sipped from her makeshift wine glass again, and Chad had to admit, he appreciated her honesty.
"Which means, instead of trying to get your product out to the customers, we need to bring the customers to you." Chad tossed the pencil onto the notebook pages, giving Katie a glance meant to advise her that this was the answer to everything.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean. People are going to come here for fresh produce?"
"And to the markets. You can do both."
She shook her head emphatically. "Chad, I barely have the time to get to the markets I do attend, let alone run this farm as a retail business as well."
"That's why you won't. We will."
She eyed him speculatively, her wariness once again clouding across her face. "We."
He held up his hands in surrender, grinning slyly. "You said we had a deal."
"Quit being cryptic. What exactly are you proposing?"
Chad breathed out slowly, preparing himself for the potential backlash of the idea he was about to present. It could go either way with Katie, and he knew it, but it was worth a shot. "If it's market gardening you want to do, Katie, let's do it. However, there are markets you're missing, undoubtedly because you're wearing yourself too thin and wanting to give Mason as much time with you as you can. I don't blame you for that, and no one would. Therefore, what if you stayed here and worked on the gardens and dealt with the customers who came here to get their produce, eggs, and whatnot, while I was the one who did the traveling and attended the markets for you during the day? You'd always be here to get Mason on and off the school bus, and you'd be here with him on the weekends. We could pack my truck full the evening before of whatever we have available to sell at the market the next day, and I could do the legwork for you. It wouldn't be less work for you, I'm afraid, but at least you'd be here when Mason needed you." And when you needed Mason, he thought to himself, but he didn't dare say it out loud.
"You're serious, aren't you?" Katie seemed to be in awe, and immediately Chad wondered when the last time was that someone had offered to help her with anything.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
She ignored his question, her gaze lowering to the jar of wine in her hands as she thought about his proposition. "How do you see this being done? Here at the farm, I mean?"
"We'd have to work at making Rustic Acres more noticeable from the highway, first of all. Signage, clearing out some of the trees at the end of the laneway, even promotion in town so people know what's available to them."
"And what do we have available to them?" she asked, her skepticism evident.
"So much, Katie!" he exclaimed, exasperated that she didn't see the unique opportunity at her own fingertips. "You already have some folks who come here to get eggs and milk, right? And farm fresh eggs, which would remain Mason's specialty. We could build a sort of booth to display the fruits and vegetables available that day, or you could even have the option for folks to pick their own. And what about the pumpkin patch? In another few weeks or so, people would flock here to bring their kids and pick their own jack-o-lantern. You wouldn't even have to harvest them on your own, families would pay to do it themselves. And we haven't even started on the freezer packs of beef and pork we could put together, ready to be bought by the people who show up. I mean, you’ve already got some of that stuff available, but it could be so much more, Katie."
"When you put it like that..."
"I know, I know. I'm a genius." Chad ducked his head slightly to look into her eyes, amusement glimmering on his face. He smiled wider when she shook her head and he saw the corners of her mouth tug upwards as well.
"Easy now, Einstein. Your head is swelling."
He chuckled at her joke, leaning back against the worn couch. "You're not sold on the idea, though."
Katie bit her lip as she contemplated how to respond. "It's not that."
"Then what is it?"
"What makes you want to sit at farmers’ markets a few times a week and work here for the rest of it for someone you've only just met?"
There it was. Katie wasn't skeptical
of the idea to turn the farm into a profitable destination; she was skeptical of him and his true motives.
"Because I want to. Why is that so hard to believe?" he questioned in exasperation, leaning forward again to rest his elbows on his knees.
"You've only been here a week, and you don't even know me, Chad."
He sighed emphatically, adjusting his ball cap. "I'm not suggesting I move in and take over your business, Katie. I just want to help." He paused for a moment, debating on whether to continue, then said in a lowered voice, "Besides, maybe I need the distraction just as much as you need the extra help around here." Their eyes met, a silent understanding that only two lonely souls starting over in life could comprehend. There, he'd put himself out there, but it was ultimately up to Katie whether she wanted to help him as much as he wanted to help her. And, really, why should she want to? The hesitation radiating from her every pore was warranted. She was right, they didn't really know each other, and perhaps he was being just a bit pushy. He thought of apologizing in case she viewed him as overstepping some kind of boundary, but she spoke first.
"You can't live in your truck." It was a matter-of-fact statement, and her expression evoked no expression as she announced it.
He didn't mean to chuckle, but it passed his lips before he could rein it in. "Well, I didn't expect that."
"And you need to tell me who you really are."
Her words stopped Chad's breath. "Pardon me?" He wasn't sure what else to say in that moment.
"I know you're lying. You're not an accountant who lost his job. There's more to it."
"Is that so?" He crossed his arms, his mind racing through the thousand thoughts he was struggling to sift through.
"And, if your family was actually two hours away, you'd be there right now. Not here."
He studied her face for any sign of anger, but there was none. Perhaps that meant she held secrets of her own and therefore understood why he would lie, but it could also mean that she'd desensitized herself from the pain lies could cause, having dealt with far too many in the recent past. "I have showed you who I am over the past week, Katie. What you see is what you get."
Who I Am With You (My Kind Of Country #1) Page 5