mouthing, I’ll text you.
She looked worried, but her hands were too full of dirty plates to do anything but let me go.
A hard swallow didn’t open my throat. A sniffle didn’t dispel the tingle of my nose. And as I pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road, I was left too alone to fight.
First came the tears on a wash of despair. Then came the sobs that shook my shoulders as I hung on to the wheel, unable to wipe the streams of tears from my face without losing control. They ran without interference down my cheeks to cling to my jaw until they were heavy enough to fall. I reached a pull-off and drove in, throwing the truck in park, curling in on myself.
My face dropped to my hands.
I let go of the tenuous hold I’d had.
The path of my life had taken a hard turn when Pop died, rerouting all traffic here, home. I’d thought this was a permanent place for me. That the road ended here, at the end of a long drive lined with ancient oaks. Maybe it would have.
But now it was time to go.
What I hadn’t told Presley was that I’d been frozen out by most of the farm. Only the barn animals and Kit were still sympathetic, but I saw the hurt in Kit’s eyes, the same betrayal written on everyone’s face. The cattle were blessedly safe, that particular problem solved. But on the matter of The Money, there was only one problem.
Me.
It was a long time before I pulled myself together, taking a good portion of that time to feel sorry for myself and mourn all my losses, all the way back to my parents. I’d been thinking about them a lot, Pop too. About how I didn’t realize that my life had been missing this. The farm. It was a piece of me that had clicked back into place the second we pulled into the driveway.
I knew what it was like to not have a home. But I’d found it again here, after ten long years adrift.
But the anchor had been pulled up and stowed, and it was time to float away again.
By the time I got back to the house, I’d composed myself, though a glance would tell whoever looked that I’d been crying. My plan was to hurry inside, climb into my bed, and empty myself of whatever tears might be left. I could hide there for a little while before heading to the store to show our new shop girls how to do the inventory. It would be fine. Everything would be just fine.
I’d convinced myself that was true until I saw Jake walking out of my front door.
Breathlessly, I parked the truck, and he watched me with blazing intensity hot enough to fry an egg. For a moment, I wondered if he was here to talk, really talk. Otherwise, he would have sent Mack to relay any messages. The fantasy played out in my mind—an apology, a declaration. Happy tears and his lips against mine.
I pushed the thought away as I climbed out, though I couldn’t let go of a little ember of hope.
God, has he even blinked? I wondered as I climbed the porch stairs.
“Hey,” was all I could think to say.
“Hey.” His voice was gravelly and raw as he looked down at me.
I hadn’t known just how much I missed him until he was right here, tearing me to shreds.
“I … I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d be here,” he said, breaking my heart just a little more.
With a small smile, I said, “You live here too. It’s just … well, I thought you might want to talk.”
He didn’t answer right away. His brows ticked a little closer together, a war behind his eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Me neither.”
A long beat.
“I think …” he started, trailing off. “I wondered if I could handle seeing you.”
My heart jerked. “Can you?”
“No.”
I pursed my lips, biting down to stop myself from crying. “Because you hate me.”
“Because it hurts too bad.” He paused. “I told you once, I could never hate you.”
“I didn’t think that was still true.”
“It is. That’s why it hurts.”
I tamped down my emotions like sails in a storm, the edges flying away before I could secure them. But I didn’t cry.
“I think you should take the deciding share,” I said with more strength than I felt. “Just take control of the farm. You’re the only one who really knows what