“Twenty!”
“What’s six times…” His eyes slide side to side, and hers go wide. “Seven?”
Dove closes her eyes and shouts, “Forty-two!”
“Yeah,” he laughs. “Who says girls can’t do math?”
“Nobody!” Dove holds his neck as he gives her a bounce. I give him a quick peck on the cheek. Leon makes her so hyper.
“Hey, weirdo. How was your day?”
“Fine. When’s dinner? I’m starving.”
“You are always starving.” Going to the refrigerator, I take out a plastic bag with three marinating steaks inside. “I’m giving you a worm treatment.”
“Uncle Leon has worms?” Dove crinkles her nose at him, and he puts her down.
“I’ll worm you.”
“Ew!” She squeals and runs into the other room. I cut up carrots and celery, asparagus and red potatoes and start them in the cast iron skillet on top of the stove. It’s the same old recipe I’ve been making for years, but I try to mix it up a little bit.
“Where’s Sawyer?”
“He’s talking to Deacon about buying trees and shit.”
“Leon!” I hiss but the music of a harp and flutes playing the Angelina Ballerina theme is loud in the living room.
“She’s not listening to us.”
“Still. Watch your mouth.” I give him a pinch and return to the stove, moving everything into the oven.
Deacon Dring has become our financial adviser since returning from Dallas again. Mindy’s the only one who knows the whole story on the handsome man who keeps coming back to our town. I only know he gives sound financial advice. He’s guided me a few times on my own business.
“I need him to set some traps down at the feed shed.”
“You finally getting back to your dream?” His hazel eyes soften, and as much as I try to keep Leon as a kid in my head, I know he’s a twenty-two-year-old man.
“I never gave up on it. I had to put a comma there. Take care of more important matters before I could come back to it.”
“A comma.” He nods, a hint of a grin in his voice. “Some comma.”
We look in the catalog at the peach tree varieties and how long it’ll take for them to be shipped, whether they’ll be bare root or in burlap.
“We can pretty much plant these any time, but I think he wants to prep the soil for now and wait for April first.”
I’m about to mention the store when my older brother comes through the door. “Smells good in here.”
“Oh!” I step back to the stove, taking the skillet of sizzling meat, potatoes, and vegetables out of the oven. “Supper’s ready when you are.”
We sit down to eat, and Dove splits my steak with me. “Mamma saw a mouse in the old shed and she screamed real loud. Akela tried to eat it!”
Sawyer grins at her warmly then glances up at me. “I’ll set some traps before I go to bed tonight.”
I want to say he doesn’t have to… but I decide to let him this time.
After we’ve eaten, Dove helps Leon clean the dishes and load the dishwasher. Sawyer steps out onto the porch, and I follow him, looking out over the hills of peach trees, our family land.
I know this job is heavy on his mind. It’s going to require a huge initial investment, and establishing a new crop of trees has its own set of risks and problems. Not to mention the need for additional hands.
“Did Deacon find a full-time salary in our books?”
He glances up at me and puts a strong arm around my shoulders. “It’s interesting how things come together, timing and all. Sometimes it feels like providence.”
This surprises me. My brother has never been particularly spiritual. “What do you mean?”
“I found someone who’ll work for room and board.”
My chin pulls back. “Who?”
The screen door opens and my little whirlwind runs out onto the porch. “Mamma! I brushed my teeth—it’s bedtime!”
She grabs my brother’s hand and gives it a tug. He lifts her easily, and she hugs him around the neck. “Night, Uncle Sawyer.”
“Night, baby girl.” Sawyer’s big hand smooths her little back, and warmth fills my chest. His eyes meet mine. “We can talk about it tomorrow. Get some sleep.”
Stepping forward, I kiss his scruffy cheek and take my girl from his arms. She wiggles down and leads me into the house, where we curl up like always with an Angelina Ballerina board book and her stuffed Alice mouse.
Dove snuggles lower into the blankets at my side, and I rest my head on my arm, tracing my finger along a golden curl. As always, I’m amazed by her. She changed my life so much… She saved my life.
When my heart was torn apart, she came and brought me peace. She calmed the storm and brought back the sunshine.
It’s like all the happiness and love we found that summer is enclosed in her little body. Even with those blue-green eyes that twist the ache in my chest at times, she brings me so much joy.
My eyes drift shut and the sounds of her breathing carries us to sleep.
22
Taron
Patton’s office is my last stop before heading out of town this afternoon.
He sits behind his massive mahogany desk in Armani with his dark brow lowered, dark eyes leveled, growing more irritated with my every word. I’ve actually seen men older than me sweat under the intimidating gaze of Patton Fletcher.
I’m not sweating.
I give him the good news first. “The Dubai contract came in overnight. Sandra’s scanning the signed documents into the system.”
Our office manager Sandra already knows what’s coming. She predicted an earthquake, but Patton and I have known each other way too long for that.
“Why do I feel like there’s more coming?” He leans back, crossing an ankle over his knee.
“Because you’re good at what you do.” I shift in the leather chair, trying to keep the mood light. “It’s my last day, Patton. I talked to Sawyer, and I’m resigning as of—”
He’s on his feet. “You’re not going anywhere. I don’t accept your resignation.”
Standing, I exhale slowly. “It’s done, Patton. I can’t do this anymore. Not physically, not mentally…”
“Is this about your back? We’ll get you the best physical therapy, a standing desk, whatever you need. Charge it to the firm.”
“It’s not about that.” Going to the window, I pick up a framed photo of the four of us in Mexico. We look so fucking young. “You don’t need me, brother. And I’ve got to see if there’s any chance…”
“Is this about Noel?”
I glance over my shoulder, and I don’t have to tell him yes. Setting the photo down again, I reach out to shake his hand. “I’m sorry, Patton.”
Several seconds pass. His frown-game is solid, but I guess he sees something in my eyes—the truth. I’m already gone.
With a deep exhale, he begrudgingly shakes my hand, and I know he’s going to be fine. Raquel is sharp as a tack, and she cares way more about this job than I ever did.
Before I leave, I consider trading in my Tahoe for a pickup, but I don’t want to lose any more time. I’m four hours into the drive, somewhere between Memphis and Little Rock when my phone rings in the car.