by Liz Isaacson
“Papers for auction four,” Grant said, handing her a few pages before he dashed off again.
“Thanks,” she called after him, glancing at the top paper. Ah, here was her mystery buyer, and she hoped she wouldn’t have to arrange transportation for three hundred head of cattle that was too far.
Her heart flipped when she saw the name on the paper.
“Flynn bought them?” She looked up, sure he’d be standing right there to tell her she couldn’t read anymore. He wasn’t, and the activity in the auction house meant no one else had even heard her.
Four Lanterns wasn’t a cattle ranch, though with nine hundred acres, Flynn could certainly raise some beef—which he was obviously going to do. Quinn Valley beef.
Her first instinct was to pull out her phone and call him. Find out what he was doing. But she’d literally broken up with him via a text twenty minutes ago.
She couldn’t talk to him right now, and she certainly didn’t want to communicate with him about getting the calves from Quinn Valley to his farm. Her mind whirred with possibilities. She could ask Rhodes to do it. Or Grant, who always helped with the cattle.
But she didn’t want to explain anything to anyone, least of all her brother or another cowboy on the ranch. Even her sisters would try to get her to tell them how she was feeling. And that was the problem. She didn’t know how she was feeling.
What she knew was that Flynn had been distant since he’d signed the closing papers on his farm, and once he’d moved and started working the land he’d bought, he’d disappeared completely. Physically, mentally, emotionally.
Jessie had never thought of herself as a needy woman before, but when it came to Flynn, she certainly was. Stuffing away the thought, she simply put his paperwork on the bottom of her stack and focused on the conversation she’d been having with another buyer.
She couldn’t ignore Flynn forever, but she could put him off until she got to the safety of her bedroom in the homestead.
Hours passed before that happened, and Jessie was completely wrung out by that time. She hadn’t eaten lunch because of the auction, and Betsy had left dinner for her on a plate on the kitchen counter. She couldn’t eat that either, as her tears brimmed so close to the surface.
Her head swam, and she couldn’t get a decent breath that wasn’t filled with everything Flynn. She’d only felt this desperate and broken one other time—just before her birthday, months ago, when she’d considered leaving the ranch.
“Maybe I could do that,” she said, her voice cracking on the last word just as she closed her bedroom door behind her. She leaned her head back, as if that would keep the tears from streaming down her face.
“You broke up with him,” she told herself, the misery streaming through her evident in every syllable. She drew in a deep breath through her nose, trying to find something to hold onto.
“Jess?” Cami knocked on her door, and Jessie danced away from it, her heart booming out a staccato rhythm in her chest.
“Just a sec,” she said, glad her voice didn’t sound two beats away from dying. Her face flamed with her distress, and she wiped at her eyes. Thankfully, she wasn’t wearing makeup, but she didn’t think for one second that Cami wouldn’t notice that she’d been crying.
She opened the door and turned back to her bed without looking at her sister.
“Hey, so Clay—” When Jessie turned, Cami cut off as if someone had muted her. “You’ve been crying.” She came in and closed the door. “What’s wrong? Did something go wrong at the auction?”
Jessie shook her head, unable to speak. She just lifted one shoulder into a shrug and collapsed onto her bed. Everything felt so heavy, and she reminded herself that it had for a while now.
“It’s Flynn then.” Cami hurried across the room and sat next to Jessie on the bed. “It’s okay, sissy. What happened?”
“He’s just…unavailable.” He’d been unavailable, off-limits, to her for years.
“Because of the farm?”
She nodded. “Yes, that. And he hired some woman who is not a mechanic, and then he bought all these calves, and asked me to dinner, and everything is a mess.”
Cami put her arm around Jessie, and she leaned into her sister. “Hey, things must not be too messy if he asked you to dinner?”
“He only did it out of pity,” Jessie said. “Because I got mad at him yesterday for forgetting I was bringing him a burger.” She inhaled slowly, some rational thought entering her mind again. “I don’t need him to pity me. And I’m done begging him to hang out with me.” She was thirty years old, for crying out loud. Not sixteen.
“I’m sure he wants to see you,” Cami said.
“I’m not sure of anything anymore,” Jessie said. “It’s fine.” She reached back and took her hair out of the ponytail it had been caged in all day. She ran her fingers through it and shook her hair over her shoulders. “Now, you were saying something about Clay?”
“No,” Cami said quickly. “Nope. Didn’t say anything about Clay.”
Jessie knew she’d heard her sister speak Clay’s name, but she didn’t want to think about her cute, petite younger sister going out with yet another man. Then Jessie would be last again, and she was so tired of feeling left out.
Left out of the family. Left out of conversations. Left out of wedding plans, and shopping trips, and everything.
“I’m going to bed,” she said, knowing she wasn’t being fair. She’d declined to go with Georgia and Betsy as they shopped for wedding dresses. “I have a bunch of things to do tomorrow to be ready for next week’s auction.”
“Hey, it’s almost over,” Cami said with a smile.
Jessie basked in the love and warmth from her sister. She and Cami had always been best friends, and she hugged her sister, the emotion welling up inside her again. “Thanks, Cami.”
“Jess, maybe you just need to give him more time.”
“Yeah,” Jessie said, because she just wanted Cami to leave. She did, and Jessie changed into her pajamas and crawled into bed. “But he’s already taken up so much of my time,” she muttered to the ceiling. “Hasn’t he, Lord? How much time do I give him?”
God didn’t answer, but one of Jessie’s favorite stories about the lost sheep came into her mind. The Lord wasn’t satisfied with having ninety-nine out of one hundred. He wanted all of His sheep—including Flynn.
So the Lord had gone looking for him, leaving the others behind.
“Have you forgotten me?” she whispered, fresh tears coating her cheeks. In that moment, she knew she wasn’t alone. She had not been forgotten by God.
Maybe just by Flynn.
The following day, when Clay came into the hay barn, Jessie cornered him and said, “I need a favor.”
“Uh oh,” he said, searching her face. “What’s this about?”
“I know you asked out my sister, and while she, uh, didn’t have time to tell me everything, you totally owe me for that.” Jessie lifted her chin, daring Clay to contradict her.
“Fine,” he said, a sparkle in his eyes. “You’re going to win this one, Jess. Just tell me what you need.”
“I need you to arrange all the transportation for one auction. Just one.” She stepped over to her standing desk and collected Flynn’s paperwork. Clay would have questions, but she hoped the answers would be obvious.
“You want me to handle one of the auctions?”
“Sort of,” she said. “The auction is done. Paid for. I just don’t have time to arrange to move three hundred head of cattle.”
He looked dubious, but he took the papers she handed him. “Jess, this is….” He looked up. “What happened with you guys?”
“He bought a farm and got busy,” Jessie said. “It happens.” She was so proud of herself that her voice didn’t give away any of her hurt.
“Jess.” Clay shook his head. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“Flynn’s always been ultra-focused on one thing,” she said.
“Yeah.”
He looked at the papers again. “But Jess, that’s always been you.”
She didn’t dare to hope he was right, though he was one of Flynn’s best friends. “No,” she said. “That’s been him trying to hide how depressed he’s been.”
“Well, I don’t have time for this either.” Clay handed the paper back. “Three hundred head of cattle, Jess? That’s a whole day’s work.”
“I know,” she said. “That’s why I can’t do it.”
“Well, I can’t either. Without Flynn, we’re drowning getting ready for Harvest Day. Rhodes just asked me to find more help.”
Harvest Day. Flynn would be coming to the ranch for that. She’d have to see him. There will be a lot of people there, she told herself. Everything would be fine. She’d avoided him before; she could do it again.
He shook the paper, and Jessie had no choice but to take it back. “Sorry, Jess.”
“Clay,” she said, a bit of a whine in the tone. “I need you to do this for me. You owe me.”
“You think so?” He squinted at her. “Because of you, I almost lost a date with her to Malcolm.”
“Oh, please,” Jessie said. “If you had asked when Malcolm did, you’d be out the door like he is, and he’d be primed to take my sister dancing.” She lifted her eyebrows. “She was in no place for a new relationship at the time, trust me.”
Clay still looked doubtful, but he took the paper from her again. “Fine, but you owe me now. Big time.”
“How big time?”
“Next time you come to poker night, you have to coach me. Tell me all your secrets.”
“Deal,” Jessie said, shaking Clay’s hand. He chuckled and walked out of the barn, and a slip of happiness moved through her.
But without Flynn in her life, the misery snuck right back in.
Chapter 14
Flynn frowned at the texts from Clay. He arranged the transportation and delivery of the cattle he’d won at the auction, which meant Jess wouldn’t be coming to the farm.
Disgusted, he didn’t answer his friend.
He set bread in the toaster and dumped sugar by the spoonful into his coffee, his brain whirring through possibilities. Clay was decent with a wrench, and maybe he could take a look at just one tractor while he was here.
Instead of texting him back, he called Clay.
“Flynn,” Clay said, and his voice sounded a little off. “What’s up?”
“You’re bringing the cattle?”
“Well, we have the Cattelmen’s Corral bringing them. I just need to know a good day and time for delivery.”
“Whenever,” Flynn said. “I’m here all the time.”
“How about next Tuesday?”
“Tuesday is fine,” Flynn said. “So you won’t be coming at all?”
“No,” Clay said. “We’re days behind on the Harvest Festival, and I got approval to hire this out.”
Flynn started nodding as soon as Clay said no, though no one could see him. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll be here Tuesday.”
“Rhodes mentioned you’re having some mechanical issues,” Clay said.
“Yes,” Flynn said, but he was not going to ask Clay for help. Sure, he felt like he was drowning, especially without the ability to text Jessie and get a daily dose of oxygen. But he could figure things out. He could, and he would.
“I could come out on Saturday,” Clay offered.
“No, you can’t,” Flynn said. “If you’re really behind on the Harvest Festival, you can’t.”
“Yeah.” Clay sighed. “I can’t. But let me give you the name of someone who can come. He’s great.”
Flynn put his friend on speakerphone so he could type in the name and number of the mechanic Clay knew. “Thanks,” he said.
“Good luck, Flynn.”
The call ended, and Flynn exhaled heavily. He was grateful Clay hadn’t asked about Jessie, though surely he knew. He wondered what she was telling people, but then again, he almost didn’t want to know.
It didn’t matter.
“Of course it matters,” he told himself and the toast as it popped up. “This is Jessica Quinn we’re talking about.” His throat tightened, and he buttered his toast, trying to get everything inside him to settle down.
But it didn’t. His emotions surged and roared and rushed through him. This was his Jess, and he needed her back in his life.
Then go get her back.
The thought moved swiftly through his mind, entirely not his own.
He put down the butter knife and reached for his keys and then his wallet. He wanted to trust God. He wanted to act on promptings.
He wanted Jessica Quinn.
The thirty-five minute drive from his farm to the ranch where he used to work took so long, despite Flynn driving over the speed limit. He turned onto the familiar lane, the row of cabins on the left-hand side of the road so comforting.
At this time of day, on a Thursday, he had no idea where Jess would be. She could literally be anywhere, including the homestead with all of her sisters. The truck she drove wasn’t parked there though, and he turned right and headed out toward the barns.
Her truck wasn’t anywhere, and Rhodes came out of the stables and saw Flynn before he could get off the ranch. He waved him down, and Flynn searched his mind for a reason he could be at the ranch.
“Hey,” he said, rolling down the window.
“What are you doing here?” Rhodes took off his hat and wiped his hand through his hair.
Flynn smiled at him, because it felt good to have contact with the Quinns again. “I came out to see about the Harvest Festival,” he said. “Clay said you guys were behind, and I thought maybe I could help for a few hours this afternoon.”
“Don’t you have a farm to run?” Rhodes asked with a grin.
“Yeah, well.” Flynn shrugged.
“You came to see Jess,” Rhodes said. “Just admit it.”
“Nope,” Flynn said, putting his truck in park and turning it off. “Now, point me in the right direction for whatever needs to be done for the Harvest Festival.”
As Rhodes started explaining what needed to be done, Flynn had another great idea. He couldn’t just waltz up to Jessie on the ranch—he didn’t know what he’d been thinking trying that.
But he could get her to talk to him across the poker table. Before he did a single thing, he texted Betsy. I need a favor. Can you give your poker spot to Jessie for next week?
He’d only taken one step toward the far barn to make sure they had the twine they needed for the harvest when Betsy responded. She won’t take it.
So she knew they’d broken up. Rhodes hadn’t, though. What can I do then? Flynn looked at the words, feeling foolish and ridiculous. He was a grown man. He didn’t run to his friends to make his relationships work.
Of course, he hadn’t had a real relationship he cared about in years.
He deleted off the question and typed out, I just want to talk to her.
Then talk to her.
Flynn sighed. If only that were so easy. Like he’d always done over the years, he put his head down and got the work done. It wasn’t the jobs that needed doing around his own land, but it was good work. Honest work. Work that kept his mind off of Jess—at least for a few seconds.
He didn’t need to check out with Rhodes, and he wouldn’t find him out on the ranch anyway. He knew his friend had been quitting earlier and earlier so he could spend time with his fiancée.
So when he’d finished the things Rhodes had asked him to do, he got behind the wheel of his truck and headed off the ranch. He hoped he’d see Jessie walking along the road, but he didn’t. He didn’t see anyone, and his stomach settled somewhere near his shoes once the tires hit asphalt.
“Did I make a mistake?” he asked himself. He’d wanted his farm since the moment he’d lost it. So why did he feel like he was leaving an important piece of himself at Quinn Valley Ranch?
He made it through Friday and on Saturday morning, Clay’s friend came out to the far
m with him.
“You didn’t have to come,” Flynn said, shaking Clay’s hand. “I know how much you guys have left to do for the festival.”
“I’ll get it done,” he said. “This is Cole Compton, the mechanic I was telling you about.”
Flynn shook the other man’s hand too, liking that he had grease stains on his hands and a cowboy hat on his head. “I hope you’re a miracle worker,” he said. “Because I don’t have a single machine that works and no money to replace them.”
He probably should’ve spent the cash he had on operational equipment rather than three hundred head of cattle, but he couldn’t undo the auction now. And he wanted those cows. He knew how to work a cattle ranch, but he had no idea what to do with a farm.
He’d learn, and he had all of his dad’s records. He just needed more time to get settled, figure things out. No matter what, he knew he couldn’t do any type of work around the farm without an operational tractor.
“Let’s see ‘em,” Cole said. They all piled into Flynn’s truck, and he drove down the lane to the equipment shed. It held a half a dozen tractors, and he opened the doors with the button as he explained.
“I don’t know why I can’t get any of them started. I’ve searched online. I have all the keys. This place was plowed and planted when I bought it, but I don’t know how they did it.”
The door rumbled up and up, and Cole and Clay went inside while Flynn stayed behind to hold the button so the door would go all the way up. When he finally followed them inside, Cole already sat behind the wheel of the main tractor Flynn wanted to use.
He put the key in and twisted it, but nothing happened. Thankfully. Flynn didn’t want to feel like an idiot in front of his friend and this mechanic.
“Could be a battery,” Cole said.
“I bought and installed a new one,” Flynn said. He had some skills.
Cole climbed down and opened the hood to look at the engine. “Some of these machines have safety switches,” he said, bending over and digging around inside. He reached and grunted, taking several long seconds and lifting one leg all the way off the ground before he straightened.