Page 54 of Every Good Thing
“Wow,” she breathes out, glancing from the fields to me and back again.
“This plan will significantly reduce your workload. You can absorb the costs by charging for hayrides or renting picnic blankets—things you should do already. I have other suggestions that’ll save you time and money… if you’d like to hear them.”
“Of course, I would. Ben, this is amazing. I can’t believe you did all this.”
Lena operates on a default to doing everything herself. I don’t blame her—I do, too. But if the last few days have taught us anything, we need each other. It feels good to see her faith in me restored. “I’ve also decided not to pursue the Riley Trust position.”
“What? Why?”
I shrug lightly. “Hobnobbing with rich socialites just isn’t me.”
She smirks. “What’s the real reason?”
“There’s too much history there, and I prefer the present.”
Her reaction confirms it’s the right decision. My pride surges with her incredible smile. It reminds me of the night I surprised her with fireworks after she’d had a rough day—she couldn’t believe someone would do something like that for her then, and she can’t believe it now.
I slip my hand over hers under the table, locking it securely over her soft fingers. It’s become automatic now, but fiddling with her fingertips reminds me of sliding the rings on her finger, making me grateful.
“Thank you, Ben. I’m sorry it took this to get me to listen.” She holds up her braced arm, wincing.
“It’s no trouble. I have other suggestions to make the next two months easier while you heal.”
Lena’s pinched brow quirks with a glance at Dot. “Um, I want to hear your ideas, but I’ve got it handled.”
“Handled? What does that mean?”
“Ruthie, come on. Let’s check out this poetic hayride, huh?” Dot stands and tugs at Ruthie’s sweater.
Lena watches them descend the patio, appearing more anxious the further they go. When her eyes finally find mine again, a forced smile emerges.
With a no-big-deal shrug, she announces, “Diamond Studios wants to film a movie here. I’m closing Saddletree for two months. I signed the deal an hour ago.”
She elaborates, but I fixate on two words—closing Saddletree. Unease festers in my stomach and a headache twinges behind my eyes. She explains all the positives in one long oration, the pros ramming uncomfortably against the bigger issue in my head, and try as I might, I can’t see them beyond the underlying problem. Logic tells me that she did the same as me. She identified the problem and solved it—simple. But I didn’t make any overarching decisions without her—renting the van and hiring Mr. Deakins and his crew for the day were only meant to show her what she could do if she agreed to make it permanent.
The fact that she did this without even a heads-up blindsides me and worries me about our future. I feel excluded and hurt that she didn’t consult me before making such a drastic move. We used to make decisions like this together.
I can’t believe she did this.
Without me.
Even worse, she did it for me. It’s happening already, sacrificing Saddletree for me. Sacrificing herself for me.
“Ben?” she says finally, her voice shaky with anxiety. “Say something.”
“I can’t. Not now.” I get up and leave her at the table.
Fourteen
LENA
I find Ben an hour later in the barn, shoveling muck from the horse stalls while Hugo and Penelope watch. His button-down hangs on the half-door, and his white undershirt is smeared with dirt and clinging to his sweat.
He’s using work as a focus to balance his emotions—a trick I pull thousands of times a day. Sometimes, the best thing to do is to stay busy, despite how taboo that word has become lately.
Choosing to retreat to the barn makes sense, too. It’s off-limits to guests, and there aren’t many quiet places at Saddletree on the weekends.
“Ready to talk yet?” I lean against the half-door, trying to look nonconfrontational.
