Delivery to the Farmhouse (Havenwood Cowboys Romance #4)

Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

I could think of a hundred and seventeen point eight other places I’d rather be right now. Even thinking that made me feel like such a horrible friend—but how far does the whole be-a-good-friend expectation have to go? I mean, really?

To the painful, submit myself to awkward and potentially emotionally debilitating situations level?

Apparently so, because here I was, standing on the doorstep of Belle’s farmhouse—again. This house had become the breeding ground of awkward moments for me. And somehow, every single one of them involved Colton Holden.

Slipping on the ice and falling on my butt while leaving Belle’s wedding—the day after I had my heart broken.

Getting stuck in the mud while delivering a package—and spraying said mud all over Colton’s well-toned body when he tried helping me.

Being ambushed by Colton at the top of the stairs while he’d generously offered to take me home on horseback. Granted, that last one hadn’t been awkward at all, but it did evoke some curiosity within me that I wasn’t ready to explore.

I could only imagine what tonight would bring .

But if it involved Colton and me somehow locked in the bathroom while the doorknob was broken off or something, I was out. While that scenario could lead in all kinds of interesting places, I didn’t want to test any of them.

I was done with men, I reminded myself. DONE. The kind of four-letter word cheerleaders chant and make acronyms about while they did things like spreadeagles and waving pom-poms.

Don’t Open New Emotions!

Fortunately, Colton wouldn’t be here. Baby showers were a women-only kind of deal—at least the ones I’d been to thus far. No testosterone.

Plus, Belle had been super nice to me the last time I was here, and I wanted to return her clothes to her. From what I could tell, the ginger lozenges I’d ordered for her had been delivered, and I was hoping they’d helped with her morning sickness.

And I really was happy for Bex and her new baby. Her other kids were stinking adorable. Judging by how gorgeous Dawson was, this new baby of theirs was going to be just as cute.

My hands were sore. After the last week of training—where Jesse insisted I wear a hard hat and safety glasses and led me through several safety protocols as required by OSHA—I was let loose in the role of general laborer on the construction crew: gathering tools, cleaning debris on site, and painting.

Since I’d started, Jo was relocated. She’d begun working with the guys to cut tile as they were finishing the interior of the fully finished townhouse. That meant I was getting pretty good at using the trowel to texture the walls after helping to lay the sheetrock.

But I had some calluses, that was for sure. Something I’d never had before—and something I didn’t mind in the slightest.

I rang the doorbell and then my thumb worried one of those calluses on my palm as I waited. Moments later, Belle opened it. She wore a pink shirt with flutter sleeves, and she grinned at me.

“Natalie! You’re here!”

Even though her baby bump was barely bumping, she placed a hand on her stomach and pulled me into a hug.

“Hi,” I said, patting her back.

I hadn’t spoken with her since she’d come to my rescue over two weeks ago. Hurriedly, I handed her the tote that held her shirt and jeans, and she took it, smiling and placing it beneath the bench in the entryway.

Her home was lovely as always. Pink streamers were strung from the stair banister, and a pink and gold balloon arch bubbled in front of the fireplace with the word Baby in shiny gold letters hanging in front. The coffee table groaned beneath a stack of presents.

Bex sat in the armchair just in front of the balloon arch, looking radiant and lovely and somehow uncomfortable all at once. Unlike Belle’s, Bex’s stomach looked as though she’d raided the watermelons at Walmart and tried smuggling the biggest one out beneath her shirt.

She looked adorable.

The pang of longing pricked my heart again, the way it had the last I’d seen her, but I disregarded it and entered the living room to place my gift bag with the rest of the gifts.

Mine was filled with a package of diapers and a baby board book about tractors and bunnies. Because knowing the Holdens, whether Bex and Dawson were having a girl or not, that girl would be driving a tractor before she got her driver’s license.

I thought of Colton. Where was his farm located? Rather, where was the farm he and Bryce shared?

Had he had any luck talking to Bryce about buying him out? I wasn’t sure what kind of farming he did, but chances were, he spent most of his time driving tractors, planters, harvesters, and combines.

Riding horses, driving tractors, roving through fields. From what I’d heard, Bex was knee deep in it since Dawson was working more on the farm with Bryce and Colton .

“Hey, Nat,” Allie said, waving to me.

Her dark hair was pulled back around her ears. She wore a lovely purple blouse and white cropped pants. And I didn’t miss the fat diamond ring on her left hand’s fourth finger.

Now, that was a rock.

Who decided that was the finger to designate a person’s marital status? Or that it should be right next to a certain, typically taller finger that conveyed the opposite emotion from love?

Allie looked at me with her eyebrows raised expectantly, and I realized I missed her question. Judging by the number of women looking at me, she wasn’t the only one waiting to hear my answer to whatever it was.

“Sorry,” I said. “What?”

“I said how are things at the post office?”

“Oh—”

I trailed off a little too long, meeting the gazes of Emily Stone, Dorothy Erikson, Bex’s mom, Allie—and Belle’s birth mom—Sarah Vreeland. And a few other women from the town.

“They retired,” Sarah said. “That new postmaster moved in a little over a week ago.”

“Where’d your parents go?” Allie asked.

Allie was my friend. She’d come across me on Christmas Eve in the malt shoppe, right after Jensen had broken my heart. If she were the only one here, I’d probably have no qualms sharing details with her, but with all of these people?

I knew a few of them, but I also knew how fond some of them were of gossip, including Sarah Vreeland.

“Saint Anthony,” I said. Might as well just get it over with. “They left the postal world behind.”

“What will they do now?” Dorothy asked.

The elderly woman had always been kind, but I’d never gotten to know her as well as others in town had. Even though I lived in her basement, and aside from hearing every time she and her husband moved or showered, she wasn’t nosy, and I was glad .

I looked at Bex. This was her party. She was supposed to be the center of attention, and I wanted to shift things to her instead of me.

“Enjoy retirement, I guess.”

I didn’t want to talk about this. It felt like a reminder of how adrift I was in my life. Even my parents had a plan, something Mom insisted God led them to. But me?

Where was God leading me?

Was He leading me at all?

“Where will you go?” Bex asked, resting a hand on her bump. I wondered where her other kids were. Were they with Dawson? Or their dad?

“I got my own place,” I said, my voice too quiet.

I smiled at Dorothy, and she nodded back.

A clamp closed over my throat. I didn’t want to lose it here in front of these women. As nice as they were, I didn’t want to get this personal. My emotions had been far too close to the surface lately for my liking.

“Come stay here again anytime you need,” Belle said, carrying a tray of carrot and celery sticks, broccoli, and sliced cucumbers. She set the tray on the side table and dipped a carrot in the dressing, biting off its end. “We’ve got plenty of room.”

“Colton would love that,” Bex said, rubbing her belly and smiling conspiratorially. “You could fall in love at the farmhouse.”

“Whoa,” I said, feeling like I’d been side-railed.

The sensation was made worse by the number of clucks and squeals from the other women in the room.

“What?” Bex said, as though suggesting falling in love was as easy as tripping over a cord. “It happened for Dawson and me.”

She peered around the living room with a contended sigh. Lights gleamed in her eyes as if with that single glance, she relived every fond memory the two of them had shared here.

I didn’t doubt it was amazing. Bex and Dawson were disgustingly perfect together. He adored her, and a person who didn’t know any better could hardly be able to tell Bex’s kids weren’t his, too.

“This house is magical,” she added.

“I don’t—” I began.

“And Colton is definitely interested,” Belle added, reaching to dip another carrot on the tray.

The room broke into more giggles.

“A smoking hot farmer like him?” Emily said. “Such a tall drink of water. I wish he was interested in me. I’d be all over his farmer tanned bod.”

The laughter turned awkward—wayward glances included—probably because everyone knew just how many different men Emily had dated in the last year alone, and how all over each of them she was.

I didn’t want to think about tans or any other lines on any man’s body, thank you very much. Remember that DONE part of my mantra?

“How do you know he’s interested in Nat?” Allie asked, reaching for a piece of broccoli and putting it on the paper plate beside the tray.

My heart pricked its ears like a cat at the faintest trace of noise. I didn’t want the answer to this question. Because it didn’t matter whether Colton was interested in me or not.

He and I had occasionally bumped into one another on the site during lunch breaks, but once he finished putting in the cabinets, he was busy working with the guys who were framing.

And let’s just say that farmer tan was getting its fair share of exposure. During the past few days, Colton had been letting the rest of his white chest catch up with his arms.

Because with the temperatures in the seventies and higher? The guys decided shirts were unnecessary—regardless of OSHA’s safety standards.

Jo’s flirting had only intensified. In fact, I was pretty sure she had a date with Jesse—a fact she said she was only doing because it would upset her dad since Jesse was at least ten years older than she was.

Personally, I didn’t care who she dated, as long as she was careful. As far as I knew, Jesse was a decent guy.

“He talked about you to Luke,” Belle said, wiping some dip from her lip with a napkin. “After the whole mud thing.”

“Mud thing?” Emily said, settling into her chair with her plate of veggies and cookies. “Sounds swanky.”

“It wasn’t,” I said, warding off the sweat pricking along my hairline. “It was mud .”

There was nothing attractive about that at all.

Not in the way he’d helped me out of my car.

Not in the way he’d removed his shirt and given me a front row seat to his farmer tan so he could offer that shirt to me.

Magma began bubbling in my chest at this thought, heating my cheeks and threatening its way toward the surface. I pushed it back down—like that was possible. This volcano was going to remain dormant if I had anything to do about it.

“And then when he found out you joined the crew to work on the apartment complex?” Bex added. “He couldn’t stop talking about how cool he thought that was of you.”

Colton thought me working there was cool?

Hold on, now, brain. We don’t care what he thinks of us.

Come to think of it, I had caught him watching me more than once, but I didn’t put too much stock in it. But…did he?

A little puff of pride made me want to sit up straighter in my chair at this news.

I kicked that pride in the shins.

We’re not into him, I told myself. Got it?

I couldn’t be. I couldn’t risk falling for anyone ever again.

“You’re on the crew?” Dorothy asked, lifting a carrot to bite its end.

“Cute,” Emily added. “Maybe I should join the crew. Do the guys work shirtless? ”

I ignored her. “Talking about me does not imply interest,” I said to the room at large. “I talk about people all the time with no connection whatsoever.”

“What about how Colton told Luke he wants to ask you out?” Belle challenged, taking the empty seat across from Bex as master of ceremonies.

I had no words.

The women all catcalled—and I wanted to channel a shovel, dig a hole through the center of Belle’s living room—moving the rug first because it looked new and beautiful—and bury myself in it.

“He did not,” I said, very aware of every eye on me. And just how many of these women grinned like adders.

“He did,” Belle said.

“He did,” Bex agreed.

“Ugh, you heard him, too?” I asked.

She and Belle swapped a sneaky glance. “Dawson told me.”

“Dawson tells you what he and his brothers talk about?” I asked.

“Sometimes,” Bex said, shifting in her seat.

She leaned back slightly and then rubbed her belly, making me wonder if little Holden Jr. was squirming around in there.

That stupid prick of jealousy reared its head again. Aw, look at her having a gorgeous man who was strong and talked about sensitive things like matters of the heart with his brothers.

Mercifully, the conversation shifted with the arrival of Debra Holden, Colton’s mom, who pelted Allie with questions about her wedding plans with Bryce. It sounded like with the arrival of Bex and Dawson’s baby, they were planning on a wedding during the first part of August.

Undoubtedly, the wedding would be exquisite. From the way she dressed, I knew Allie had expensive tastes, and she happened to be marrying a rich farmer who would give her every finishing touch any bride could dream of.

Yeah, if I had to guess, I’d bet their wedding would be magazine-worthy.

From what I knew, Allie had let her little boutique shop close its doors last Christmas. She’d gone back to school and was currently taking business classes along with interior design, which sounded like the perfect fit for her.

Bex opened baby gifts. Laughter ensued, and all the while, I couldn’t get the thought of Colton being interested in me to leave me alone. The adamant cheerleaders chanting my resistance lowered their pom poms, leaving me room to wonder?—

Was their claim true? And if Colton did ask me out, what would I say?