Page 176 of Always Meant for You
“Let me walk you out,” I say to the governor as my dad and Cal head toward the field with the Garvers.
“You should be very proud of the work you’ve done,” the governor says, adjusting his hat.
“I am. Thank you, sir.”
“I do have one question,” he continues.
“I’ve got to warn you,” I say. “I only know the basics. Cal and my father are the farming experts, but I’ll do my best to answer.”
“No, ma’am, this isn’t about farming. Now, this might sound odd, but my wife wanted me to ask if you and Cal are an item. It’s quite a debate among her and her friends. They love looking at you two on social media.”
Those cougars do love my handsome farmer.
I feel my cheeks heat, then part my lips to deliver the standard line of us being childhood friends who work together, but the governor chuckles, cutting off my reply.
“That blush is the answer,” he says with a wink and a wry grin.
It’s no use playing games with this man.
I nod. “We are, but tell your wife, the two of you are the only ones who know. We’ll be telling my father soon.”
“I’m sure he’ll be pleased. And I have the feeling your Cal would follow you anywhere,” the man replies.
I try to keep my expression neutral. But his words stick with me.
Would Cal follow me anywhere?
An aide opens the door to the Suburban for the governor, and I push the question aside.
“Thank you for visiting. It was an honor to have you in Elverna, sir,” I say, that question lingering.
“You’re a talented young lady, Mabel. I know you’ll go far,” he replies as the aide closes the car door.
Will I go far?
Elverna is my home. It’s what I want, what I choose. But part of me still aches to see more of the world. And I want to do it with Cal.
The Suburban disappears down the gravel drive, taillights dimming through the dust until they vanish into the trees.
Duke trots to my side. I scratch between his ears. The table behind me still needs clearing, but I can’t bring myself to move. Not yet.
I study the farmhouse. The porch light hasn’t come on, but the windows glow faintly in the dusk. Evening settles over the fields, low and golden. From the barn, a goat bleats. Another calls back. Mabel the Cat circles my ankles before curling into a patch of grass nearby.
I glance down at my shoes—my pink Dior heels. They don’t feel out of place anymore.
I look out across the rows. Fireflies hover, blinking softly. And for a second, I swear I hear Jamie laughing, that effortless sound that used to roll out of him and wrap around everyone nearby. The way it did when he and Cal sat out on the porch, tossing jabs back and forth about who was the better shot. It was Jamie, and he’d never let Cal forget it. But when the talk turned to fence lines, Cal got the last word. They were brothers in everything but blood.
Jamie’s laugh used to echo through the fields, the walls of the house, and me. I thought it was gone. Swallowed whole by the silence he left behind. But it isn’t gone. Jamie isn’t gone. He’s in the soil. He’s in the air. He’s in the rhythm we’re finding now.
“We’re doing it, Jamie,” I whisper. “We’re making it real.”
I run my hand over Duke’s head, struck by gratitude. “It’s a good life here, huh, boy?”
Then my phone chimes.
Duke perks up.
I reach into my pocket and glance at the screen.
