Page 87 of Hometown Girl

“Never.” Beth gathered the paperwork, regretting her decision to work on the budget here. She could feel her mother’s eyes drilling into her. Finally, she looked up.

“What if I want to be a part of this new adventure?” Lilian set her book in her lap. “Would you really deny me that joy?”

Beth thought about their options. The barn sale would bring in some money, and she’d asked Ben to kick in a little bit more. She hadn’t been able to get the loan, but she had her trust fund—she could pull from that if they needed to.

Her eyes found Davis Biddle’s business card clipped to the inside of her notebook. While she was curious about the man, she’d yet to reach out to him. Even if he did want to buy the farm or become a silent investor, the thought of taking it outside the family still didn’t sit well. And they knew almost nothing about this man.

“Your health is the most important thing right now, Mom.” Beth neatly stacked her pile of papers on the coffee table.

“No, my kids are the most important.”

Beth looked at her, sitting in that chair with the afghan over her legs, book in her lap. Would her mom feel that way about Beth if she knew her actions had led to her dad’s heart attack?

“Beth?”

She made eye contact but said nothing.

Her mom gave her a kind smile. “You’re not as alone as you think you are.”

A lump swelled in Beth’s throat. She looked away. Finally, she gathered her pile, kissed the top of her mother’s head and retired to the solitude of her room.

Would the guilt ever go away? When would she be able to sit back and say, “Now I’ve done enough to make up for the pain I caused”?

Another year? Two? An eternity?

In the morning, as she drove out to Fairwind for her meeting with Drew and the tree guy, Beth tried not to think about the tears she’d shed in the dark of night. Her mother’s love was almost too unconditional. Beth certainly didn’t deserve it.

She pulled into the same space she’d parked in since day one. The farm looked pretty today, bathed in the morning sunlight.

She’d gotten a late start but still managed to pick up coffee for Drew. And when she met him on the front porch, Roxie at his side, she could see he needed it.

“Hey.” He wore gray cargo pants and a red T-shirt with that same baseball cap and five o’clock shadow he wore every day. His eyes looked tired.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” She handed him the cup.

“Is it that obvious?” He took the coffee, drank. “Thanks for this.”

“The bags under your eyes are a dead giveaway.” She wanted to ask him why he never slept. Why his bedding was folded neatly on the end of the couch in the living room rather than in one of the bedrooms upstairs. Why he seemed intent on using work to distract him from whatever it was he didn’t want to think about.

Instead, they drank their coffee in silence.

Silence, they were good at.

Moments later, a white Ford F-150 appeared on the gravel road. Roxie sat at attention.

“What do you know about this guy?” Beth stood.

“Not much. He called me. He must’ve heard we were asking around about the trees.”

Beth frowned. “That’s odd. Why wouldn’t he call me?”

He smirked.

“What?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, sending the faint smell of his musky soap in her direction. She’d have to ignore that.

She watched the truck park next to Drew’s. Roxie barked.

---