Delivery to the Farmhouse (Havenwood Cowboys Romance #4)

Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

I was unsettled the next morning. Everything inside of me felt packaged and disarrayed, like the boxes still creating mountains in my living room. I’d rifled through a few things but only seemed to be making more of a mess than organizing anything.

I stared at the gloves I’d gotten from C-A-L Ranch solely for my construction job and closed the flap of the box I dug through.

“Fine,” I told the gloves, when really I was speaking aloud to my own conscience. “You’re right. It was wrong of me to just quit.”

Leaving the box I’d been digging through open, I stalked into my room, changed out of my loose pants and into jeans and one of my few work shirts, tied my hair up, and made my way up to the street. To my car.

Another car rolled up the driveway just as I pulled my keys from my pocket. I didn’t recognize the blonde woman as she got out, but she waved to me all the same.

“Are you Natalie?” she asked.

“I am,” I said, waiting.

Who was she? How did she know who I was ?

She extended her hand. “I’m Eva. Dorothy’s daughter. Mom sent me to find you.”

This must be the daughter the Eriksons had gone to live with. From the lines around her mouth and eyes, I guessed she was quite a bit older than me, which was why I didn’t remember her.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“It’s okay,” she said. “Dad died.”

My hand went to my heart. Harold hadn’t survived after all.

“I’m so sorry to hear that.”

Eva nodded her head. “Yeah, it’s been hard, but good, too. Taking care of him was getting to be too much for Mom.”

“How is she doing?”

“She’s hanging in there. She misses him. We all do. But it’s one of those situations where he’s in a better place, you know? People always say that—but when someone is suffering as much as he did toward the end, it’s true.”

A wave of sadness washed through me. “I’m so sorry,” I said again, because I didn’t know what else to say.

Eva pressed her lips together and readjusted the purse strap on her shoulder. “Thanks. It’s really okay. The funeral is in motion, but Mom wanted me to come check on a few things here, including you.”

“Is she coming back?”

“Not for a while. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. We’re going to clean out her house. She’s going to stay with us on a more permanent basis.”

I put two and two together.

“I see,” I said.

“I’m so sorry,” Eva said. “It’s my understanding that you just moved in.”

“You know,” I said, “it’s really okay. I hadn’t fully unpacked. I’ve had a feeling I wouldn’t be staying there long.”

“Funny how those feelings work, isn’t it? ”

I fiddled with the keys in my hand. “It is. When should I plan on moving out?”

Eva inhaled and inspected the house as if it held the answer. “We’ve still got to get everything packed up and taken out. Have a yard sale. She doesn’t really need half of the stuff in there. Then we’ll list it for rent. So a week or two? Does that give you enough time to find a new place?”

A new place. I stared at the hills in the distance, feeling the distance beckon.

It’s time, a voice said softly.

“That gives me plenty of time,” I said. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Eva waved this off. “We’ve got a crew coming to clear out the house. It’s their thing, so chances are, anyone who wants to help will just be in the way.”

“Got it,” I said. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Of course.” I turned toward my car, but she reached out a hand in my direction, stopping me. “Hang on. There’s something else. I never got the chance to thank you.”

“Me? For what?” I’d never met her before today.

“Mom told me what happened the night of Dad’s heart attack. You were there when they needed you. I can’t tell you what that means to me.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling that squeamish, awkward feeling of—again—not knowing what to say. “It was just lucky.”

“I think it was more than that.” She winked. “You take care now. I’ll be in touch.”

“Thanks,” I told her, but she was already walking toward the house with her phone to her ear.

The moment grew heavier, keeping me in place as I contemplated her words. I couldn’t give it too much thought, though I did tuck my lips into my teeth and stare at the back door to the Eriksons’ home, the back door leading to my apartment that had never felt like home to me .

Regardless, I was glad I’d been there, too. I was glad I’d been able to help Dorothy, and I was sorry for Harold at the same time.

They were moving on; it sounded like I’d have to do the same.

All the more reason to get to the site. I hadn’t left on the best of terms yesterday, and I needed to remedy that.

I pulled into my usual spot, or a roundabout general direction of my spot, since several other cars and trucks were parked there. Pulling my gloves from the passenger seat, I stepped into the sunlight and marched toward the break in the chain linked fence.

Men stood on ladders, lifting heavy nail guns toward the final few townhouses being framed. Others hauled the saw, which was on a rolling contraption, feet down from where it’d been positioned before.

Bryce wasn’t always on the site, but he wasn’t the person I was looking for. After searching faces, and waving to Jo, I spotted the foreman.

Jesse wore a hard hat and stood at the base of the ladder Drake had climbed on. Nearby, the air compressor growled loudly without warning, processing more air for the nail guns which was attached to it with a thick, yellow cable.

“Hey,” I said, touching his shoulder and getting his attention.

Jesse frowned at me. “Hey.”

“I wanted to tell you I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have bolted like I did yesterday. It was petty and unfair to you.”

Dan stepped in, holding the side of the ladder as Drake passed him the nail gun, and Jesse stepped back, allowing the brothers room to move. He folded his arms over his chest.

“I didn’t know you had such a beef with the new guy,” Jesse said.

“Yeah,” I said, not wanting to elaborate. “He and I have a rough history.”

Jesse lifted his hands. “I don’t need details. But I am glad to see you. You changing your mind?”

“Seriously?” I said. “You’d still let me come to work? ”

“You’re a good worker,” Jesse said. “Never had any problems with you, unlike some of the others.”

He bopped Dan’s shoulder with his fist.

“I heard that,” Drake said from his place on the ladder, and I laughed.

I doubted the twins had given Jesse any trouble whatsoever. They’d always been easygoing, goofy guys who were fun to talk to and dug into the job with both feet.

“Then, yes,” I said. “I’d like to uphold my end of the deal. But I need to officially put in my notice.”

“Not sticking around?”

“No,” I said. “I’m not.”

I’d never needed this job financially. Not when I’d had enough money set aside to start my new life with. It’d just been a new venture. Something to do until I gained the courage I needed to take off.

Maybe I could find something else. Something I could do online.

Most people would use that money to invest in a more permanent place. I wasn’t sure I was ready for permanence just yet. I wanted it. But being able to pin a single point on a map wasn’t possible. Not when there were so many pins already on my map.

“Is it because Jensen is still working here?”

“No,” I said, but the word felt strained on its way out. “Thanks for giving me another chance.”

“Better get to work,” he said, nodding at me. “Jo needs some help, so she doesn’t get distracted.”

“Why would she get distracted? Dan and Drake are out here.”

“I heard that, too,” Dan said.

Jesse laughed. The attention both brothers paid her had been no secret to any of us.

“She’s got a friend with her today. They’re painting again in number seventeen.”

“Got it,” I said, trekking in that direction .

Number seventeen was part of the completed townhouses across from those being built. I paused in what would be the road between the two complexes because Jensen Cummings was making his way toward me.

“Not now,” I told him, fiddling with the gloves in my hand. Gloves I hadn’t yet put on.

“You thought I was coming to talk to you?” Jensen smirked in that disgustingly handsome way he had.

I sniffed and gestured to the townhouses. “I have to get to work.”

“Because you’re right. I am.” He stopped directly in front of me and splayed his feet open as if settling in.

Ridiculous.

“Goodbye, Jensen.” I sidestepped toward the right.

He dodged in the same direction, cutting me off again.

“I thought maybe the fact that you were here meant you’d changed your mind. You don’t hate me. You want to see me.”

I considered trying to dodge around him again, but knowing Jensen, he’d just keep up with me, keep pestering me, until I gave in and heard what he wanted to say. He’d always been persistently relentless.

I used to like that about him.

That was no longer the case. But I was glad I knew this little detail about him, at least.

“I’m with Colton,” I told him, deciding to be straight up.

“Doesn’t look that way to me. From what I heard, you two are taking a break.”

“Since when are you privy to anything about me?” And just where had he heard that rumor from?

Gina Hansen was Bridgewater’s notorious gossip, but as far as I knew, she wasn’t in contact with anyone I would have told anything to. She could twist a tale with the best of them, though.

“Who told you that?”

“Emily was talking about it at The Elkhorn last night. How Belle and Bex said Colton was into you, but you didn’t return the interest.”

I closed my eyes. Emily had heard me say as much at the baby shower—but that had changed. I hadn’t talked to her since.

Had she not seen Colton and me together around town?

She may not have—but Jensen had . He’d seen Colton with me at the post office.

I supposed there was one thing to be grateful for—word hadn’t yet spread about Colton staying the night at my apartment after that interaction.

“I told you, I’m with Colton Holden.”

“You’re dating?”

What did he think Colton and I were doing together when we’d bumped into him the day we’d gotten back?

Jensen had the nerve to look defeated. Which riled me to no end.

I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that I’d cried in my car that day. That I’d turned to one of my romance novels, tried to play it off, and had taken myself out for a malt in an effort to prove how strong I was, how unaffected I was—only to bump into Allie Vreeland and lose total control again after talking to her about Jensen leaving.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “What more can I do to convince you of that if you won’t see me? Give me another shot. We had a great thing going.”

My eyes closed. Memories with this man whooshed in like driving in a convertible with the top down. Air rushed toward my face in too much concentration, too much for me to manage a single breath.

It was like orange juice from a can without enough water added.

“I’m happy with Colton,” I told him.

“I don’t want to let you go. ”

“You already did,” I said. “Now, it’s time to accept it. Goodbye, Jensen.”

I tried to pass him again.

Again, he sidestepped, blocking my escape.

“I’m here now.” Jensen offered his hands to me. “Dental school didn’t work out. I’m staying in Bridgewater, Nat. And I’m going to prove that I’m someone you can rely on.”

My throat ached. My hands gripped my gloves.

“I love Colton, Jensen.” A knot formed in my stomach as the word left my lips of their own accord. But a sense of release came along with them.

Because they were true. I did. I loved him. The realization radiated through my whole body, making my blood bounce in my veins.

It was just a shame I hadn’t told Colton as much first.

That didn’t change the fact that Jensen needed to hear them, too.

Jensen’s breath caught, and his eyes widened. “Love?”

“Yeah,” I said, a smile creeping to my lips as the emotion swelled in my chest with full force. It was prominent, like a runner waiting for the gun to sound so he could begin the race. “I do.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. I could practically feel the tension in his body as he paced away from me and turned back again.

“Love.”

“Love,” I affirmed. “He’s everything I need.”

I didn’t add the words, You’re not , at the end of that statement, but they floated through the air like loose feathers from a down pillow all the same.

Grimacing, Jensen scraped a hand over his face. He fisted both hands at his sides, processing, suppressing his frustration.

“I suppose I deserve that,” he said.

“It has nothing to do with you,” I said. “And everything to do with who he is.”

That resonated within me as I said it as well, because that’s what truth did. It glowed. It chimed. It was a catlike stretch, a dance, a sparkle, something that couldn’t be suppressed.

I loved Colton for everything he was.

The high-pitched screech of the saw squealed behind me. I flinched, tensing until it stopped.

Jensen rested his hand on his hip. “Then I guess I’m happy for him. And for you.”

The lack of meaning in his voice made that a little hard to swallow.

“I doubt that,” I said.

His brows drew together, and then he gave me a tight smile. “I want to be happy for you. Does that count?”

If he were anyone else, I would pull him into a hug. Seeing him so unhappy like this tugged at my heartstrings and filled me with something between sympathy and pity.

“You’ll get there,” I told him. I almost reached out to rest a soothing hand on his arm, but thought better of it.

Full distance was the better option here.

He bobbed his head, staring around at the site as though he wanted to look anywhere but at me. He blinked several more times, his throat clenching.

Dan stalked toward his brother, carrying the A-shaped ladder as the brothers moved to a new spot near the framework. A few of the others meandered, passing hammers and holding levels to the wood they were framing.

“Forgive me, at least,” Jensen said, thumbing his ear. “Can you give me that much?”

I hugged my torso tightly, warding off the instant uncertainty.

Could I? Forgive him, just like that?

I’d hitched my wagon to this man, and he’d untied the rigging and cracked the whip, leaving me in the dust. How did someone just let hurt like that go?

Heroines in the romance novels I read did this kind of thing all the time. They went about having their hearts broken and finding new love. They got revenge on past lovers, and often in those stories, that revenge only soured them. Revenge and bitterness hurt the person who was seeking it far more than the one on the receiving end.

What do you want most? that little voice asked.

I wanted to let him go, once and for all. What better way was there to do that than to let go of all the hurt he’d caused, too?

“I want to forgive you,” I told him. “Just like you want to be happy for me. Maybe we’ll both get there one of these days?”

“Maybe,” he said.

We faced one another for several more moments, but we’d said all there was to say. This time, I didn’t dart off immediately. I let that fact settle between us. I let Jensen arrive at that conclusion, too.

“I guess I’ll see you around,” Jensen said.

“I guess so.”

Tucking his lip into his teeth, he inclined his head at me, and then strode away, leaving me standing between the two lines of townhouses. One finished, one just starting.